Strawberries & Cigarettes

Chapter Eight

            She screamed.

            Moet covered her ears.

            She threw plates.

            Moet ducked.

            She called her ugly names.

            Moet ran.

            She chased after her.

            Moet ducked into a bathroom and locked the door.

            She screamed her lungs out and tried to kick the door down.

            Moet crawled over to the toilet and retched.

             And then…

Moet had a terrible, terrible idea.

            Goofily smiling to himself, he closes and locks the door behind him right before a disembodied voice floats down the stairs, scaring him half to death.

            “Where have you been?” Leighton turns the lights on and sees a rumpled-looking Ella standing in the doorway on his right that led to the kitchen.

            Rolling his eyes, he reaches out to ruffle her hair in a playful manner before replying, “I went to a friend’s dance recital. Remember? The one I told you about? You said you didn’t want to come. Although, you should have—it was quite the experience.” Leighton shrugs off his jacket and starts making his way towards the stairs, checking his watch. Wow. It was almost eleven o’clock already.

            “Who?” The sudden change in the tone of Ella’s voice made Leighton turn around and arch an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Moet.” He answers simply. “It’s pretty late, we should get to bed--”

“Moet?” Ella’s eyes widens. “Moet Holmes?” Her voice was shaking a little by now.

            He decides now was as good a time as any to confront her about this blatant dislike she had against the Holmes family. “Look, Ella, if you have a problem with Moet or something—”

            “Have a problem? I fucking hate her!” Ella screeches at her brother. Shocked at the sudden and completely uncharacteristic change of character in his sister, he just looks on with his mouth agape. “The face, the hair, the voice, I can’t take it anymore! They’re all the same!”  Clamping her hands onto her hair as if trying to rip the roots out of her skull, she lets out another strangled screech and dashes up the stairs and locks herself in her room. Out of his temporary stupor, he sprints up the stairs after her and immediately starts banging on the door and turning the knob in vain.

            “Ella, open this door. Open this door now.” He was starting to panic, this has never happened before. Ella’s never acted like this. Ever. “Open this door right now, Ella! I mean it!” If only their parents were here, they’d tell him what to do. He’s still so new to being a guardian of a fourteen year-old girl while he was still just a kid himself. And the only contact they’d ever had with their real guardian was through blue, neatly-handwritten checks sent in a monthly envelope to their address. He tries again, this time landing his whole body weight and attempting to break the door down out of desperation. “Ella!”

            Moet felt hungry.

            It had passed the merely peckish, slightly uncomfortable feeling. Now, it was full-blown pain. She’d hardly eaten anything for the past two days and wasn’t sure to be proud of that or disgusted by it. It was lunch again. Nothing special happened in her classes, as always. Her thoughts weren’t exciting enough to distract her from this gaping hole in her stomach. Clutching her arms around her body and pulling her knees up to her chest, she rests her forehead on her legs and quietly moans. Suddenly, she feels a presence above her. Taking a second to lift her eyes up to the visitor, her face tries to smile at the gray-eyed boy with glasses, but it probably turns out as a grimace.