Hush.

28::Roil

I ended up mailing him a letter.

My dad, of course. He would hear word that his ex-wife was dead eventually, and it might as well be from me. Considering our family was well past dysfunctional ruin, there was nothing really to lose.

I wrote the letter around five that morning, sitting in the middle of Ezra’s empty apartment. Right on the floor, with a sheet of paper and a broken pencil, I scratched out a quick letter. It seemed cold and impersonal, but it wasn’t exactly all rainbows and butterflies between my father and me. What I had would suffice.

Staring down at the folded piece of paper, the silence consuming the space finally began pressing in on me. I was alone—utterly alone—with nothing but dust bunnies and vacated space as a reminder of what was. I couldn’t decide what bothered me most; the fact that he moved out without telling me, or the fact that I could sleep through him clearing out an entire apartment. Everything but the included TV, couch, and refrigerator was just gone.

I never thought myself a heavy sleeper, but then again, however ditzy-damsel it sounded, I found solace lying against Ezra’s heartbeat. The nightmares that plagued me weren’t so forthright, and the hours piled on with my eyes closed. I discovered a twisted sense of peace, surrounded by the scent and feel of him.

And now that refuge was gone.

In its place was an angry disappointment unlike anything I had ever felt before. Because I wasn’t sad, or crying over a broken heart. That wasn’t what Annie Davis did. This wasn’t some teen heartthrob movie with accompanying tissue boxes and chocolate bars. This was my life, and dammit, Ezra was a part of it.

To say I was royally pissed off at that boy would be a gross understatement.

Not for the first time, I had absolutely no clue what to do. The shitball that was my life finally tumbled down the hill, and everything was spinning out of control. I was freaking tired of trying to maintain control. Let everything go to hell. It wasn’t like I could stop it, anyway.

A knock on the door roused me from my thoughts. I was sprawled on the couch, watching some stupid drama on TV. Some guy cheated on his wife with the sister, but had a baby from another woman. They called that real drama? They had no idea.

“It’s open!” I called, switching off the show. A second later Lily poked her head through, sparing a small smile.

“Hey, Annie,” she greeted. I nodded as she stepped inside. Alec followed her. “How are you?”

I pulled myself up to a sitting position. “I’m fine.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“I am.”

“Don’t lie to me. Ezra left, and you’re hurt. Your mother died, and there’s a lot of crap you’re still not telling me, obviously. You’re not fine.”

I raked my hands through my hair, still damp from the early morning shower. “So are you my therapist now?”

“No, I’m your friend.” She plopped down on the cushion beside me. “You need help.”

“Says who?”

“Me, your guidance counselor, who happens to be extremely concerned for your well-being. So tell me the truth.”

I stooped forward, dropping my head in my hands. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’m not okay. I’m the complete opposite of okay. I’m mixed into Ezra’s life, and that pretty much means there’s a red target on mine. So, yeah. I just have this horrible feeling that my clock is ticking and I don’t know how to stop it.”