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Chapter Seventeen

Claire got home, took a long, hot shower, and cried. Her tears felt even hotter than the running water. Her parents were in bed by the time she was finished. She hadn't said anything to them when she'd walked in, trying at all costs to avoid them from asking any questions. She knew she looked like shit right now, and she did not want to explain why.

Her hands trembled as she flossed her teeth and brushed her hair. As soon as they'd left, she'd realized she'd left her overnight bag at Greg's house. It had her toothbrush, makeup, church clothes, everything. The thought of having to go back there, or having him come here made her start to cry again. She took Bailey's toothbrush and scrubbed at her teeth until they bled.

Claire had to throw it out. Now, because of her, her sister wouldn't have a toothbrush, either.

Bailey was waiting in the living room and sat up as soon as Claire left the bathroom. Despite being only seventeen, she looked old. Her eyes did, at least.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked.

Claire just shook her head. "We got into a fight."

"About what?"

"Me leaving."

"Oh."

She laughed, her throat raw. "You're on his side."

"I'm not on anybody's side."

"Uh-huh."

"You can't really pick a side for something like this." She yawned. "What you did was shitty. What he said was shitty. But you were also both, like, what? Only eighteen, right? That was a long time ago. I think it's stupid that you're both still fighting now."

It was stupid. But then again, Claire could be stupid sometimes.

"Yeah." She felt the metallic taste of bloodied gums on her tongue. "I ruined your toothbrush, by the way; I had to throw it out. But I'll buy you a new one tomorrow."

"Damn it! I didn't get to brush them yet."

"Well, ya should've thought about that before I went into the bathroom. It's not my fault you didn't think ahead."

Bailey stuck her tongue out. They both laughed, and Claire started crying again. She'd missed her little sister so, so much. And she didn't want to leave. Not really. But she couldn't come back home now. Maybe if she lined up a job somewhere close by, but that could take months. And then she would have to move all of her things, say goodbye to all of her friends, have to see Greg over and over.

He was the main reason she did everything. It was kind of pathetic, how she lived her entire life just to spite him, but it was the anger that motivated her the most. It wasn't just kind of pathetic, it was very pathetic.

She gave Bailey a kiss on the forehead good night before going to bed. The sheets still smelled like them: sweat, sex, and sheer desperation. The place underneath her pillow was even damp. It was probably a mixture of that sweat but also her wetness as he pulsed inside of her over and over again until she couldn't take it out anymore.

His thighs had been so hard against hers, his hands a secure anchor on her hips. He'd grown into himself. He was this hairy, giant of a man who was big everywhere, who worked hard, loved harder, and smiled easy. A man who'd let her into his life after all these years of probably hating her.

And why wouldn't he? She'd left him. She'd been so absolutely furious that she'd forced herself to leave early, just to hurt him. She hadn't known about his dad coming back, but it was still an awful thing to do. She was selfish. He was right.