Daddy Dearest

Chapter Five

I want to die. My head is killing me, I have no dignity left, and I just almost killed myself with my own irrepressible stupidity. Now my best friend is looking at me like he's about to cry because I just told him I'm dying of an inoperable brain tumor or something.

"What the hell was that?" he demands, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. "Mel, you conked yourself out!"

"Ack, stop yelling." I cover my left ear with the butt of my palm. "I'm right in front of you, Florence Nightingale, you need to turn down your volume." I push away his hand when he tries to put back the ice pack on my forehead. "Cut it out. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You've got a big red bump on your forehead." He nudges the back of my arm, which I'm using as a shield, away from my head. "Seriously, Mel, what the fuck. Were you drunk?"

Everyone at school, even some of the teachers, have been telling me since sophomore year that Charlie would make the most perfect boyfriend ever. He's gorgeous, smart, kind, and rich. For most of the girls at school (and some boys), he is the ultimate dreamboat. My friend Jackie says he looks like a Disney prince. I've known for a while that Charlie has developed boyfriend-girlfriend feelings for me, but I've gotten pretty good at ignoring it. Thankfully, he's never been upfront about it, so it doesn't get too awkward. But sometimes, he does slip up and look at me with googly eyes and I've never been sure how to process it.

Still, it would be easier if I could just have feelings for him, too. Everyone always says we make a cute couple and it gets super annoying sometimes. There are two girls in particular who are both cool and really like him, so a lot of the times, I wish he would like them, instead. I especially don't want his dad to think that he and I have a thing.

It's not like I have a chance with the guy or anything, but how awful would it be if I were dating Charlie and had the hots for his dad, too? That is just some messed up soap opera stuff. Gross. I don't even want to think about a situation where I might have to say out loud, "Sorry, bud, but I prefer your dad."

Behind him, I see Lottie walk up, rubbing her eyes with the sides of her fists. She had asked me to get her some tea, which was why I went to the kitchen in the first place, but she must have fallen asleep, while I was there. "What the hell is going on?" she asks through a big yawn.

"Melody fell ass-first on her face," Charlie says teasingly, though he's still looking at me with concern. "Maybe we should drive you to the ER, anyway."

I struggle to sit up, though my left eye is throbbing and threatening to pop out of the socket, a harbinger of a migraine. "Chuckie, stop it." I bat his hand away when he tries to to reapply the ice-pack on me. "I swear to God, you're almost as bad as Nancy with the hovering. If you want to help, go find me some Tylenol."

His lips tighten with irritation. "We only have paracetamol. I don't even know where mum finds the stuff. I thought it's only an English thing."

Lottie rolls her eyes behind her brother's back. "It's leftover from our holiday break with gran, dingus. Besides, Tylenol is just another brand of acetaminophen, which is what paracetamol is."

Charlie mimicks his twin with a blah-blah-blah and his hand raised up to pantomime his twin by opening and closing his clasped fingers like a mouth. "Yeah, yeah, smart-ass. Why don't you go fetch it yourself then, since you know about it so much?"

Sometimes, I wish I hadn't been born an only child because it would have been nice to have a sibling I could count on to understand me no matter what, but usually a couple of hours with the Davenport kids cure me of that longing. They can be so unbelievably mean to each other. All they do, from Charlie to Maddie, is bicker. It's astounding to me how their parents have kept themselves over the years from taking them to the mountains and leaving them there to fend for themselves.