July 4th, 2014, 5pm, Rossi Estate
Agent Hotchner had allowed everyone to leave early due to the holiday, but they were having a party at Rossi's "house" to celebrate. How they could spend all day with each other, and then by choice spend more time together was beyond me.
Jack was in the backyard entertaining Henry with a sparkler; they were painting the sky with charcoal gray smoke.
The adults were having a relaxed conversation on the patio. Their posture was notably perfect for a social gathering. Sitting back to show how at peace they were near each other but still leaning forward the slightest bit to show that their attention was on the speaker. I suppose I had to expect as much from a group of profilers, but still I was left with an overwhelming serene outdoors feel.
Despite their happy little family moment, I was sitting in the living room, content to be left out. Ok so maybe content isn't the word for it. In any case, this was not my family. This was a temporary living situation that wasn't going to last much longer. My mother was on her way to pick me from this little "vacation." I certainly wasn't enjoying myself, but it was a break form the constant traveling and endless circle of my mother's boyfriends.
I gazed out the window. What a happy scene. The others were laughing at jokes or taking pleasure in small talk. The phone rang; I half stumbled and half fell to get it as I slipped off the jet black cushions of cold leather couch.
"Hello?" I called into the phone, softly.
"Cassidy." the voice replied. "We need to talk." I was caught off guard by how stern and poised the words were, as though she had practiced in front of a mirror.
Thank god she called. I had been waiting to get back to reality, my reality. This place was nothing to me; my home was anywhere where my mother was.
"I'm staying here." There was a pregnant pause.
"What?" I asked in shock. I couldn't quite understand; had I heard that right?
"You've done quite enough, Cassidy. You didn't think I'd figure it out? This is all your fault." My mother's voice grew in volume every syllable, starting with a harsh whisper and ending with a piercing wail; she was overcome by emotion, no doubt whatever I had done had traumatized in some way.
"But.." I could hardly even make out a stutter. I wasn't even sure what she was referencing. I made a lot of mistakes, but that was the way of being an adolescent.
"No. There are no more chances, Cassidy. This is goodbye." My mother's voice went silent as words and sobbing choked up in my throat together. I couldn't stay here; this couldn't be it. This can't be my life. The phone beeped angrily, taking me out of my moment of sorrow to remind me that this conversation was long over.
I wiped the tears from my eyes in pure fury. Somewhere, undetectably even to me, my sadness switched to pure anger. I walked pat the bathroom, where a vision of a broken hearted girl danced past the mirror. Her hair looked as thought a twister had swept almost every strand into a know that canvased her head, and her eyes were pink like the warmth of a sunset with puffy white clouds for cheeks.
I couldn't stay here, and so I wouldn't. I pushed my way through the house, roughly elbowing the walls in a hurry. I grabbed the bike from the garage and set off.
It was a good night for a ride.
