Back Home: A Beetlejuice Story

Chapter 16

BJ

The sun glares into my eyes and wakes me up. I groan and slam the pillow over my face to block out the light, but it's useless since I'm wide-awake now. I throw the pillow off the bed and kick the covers off of me. The alarm clock next to the other side of the bed says seven-o-five. I know Lydia was planning on getting up early to help out with the cleaning up process, she made that clear before dinner even started last night, the determined little shit. I get out of bed and crack my back. Might as well try to con someone into making me some breakfast.

I hear the conversation before I reach the kitchen. Lydia's voice is upset, but she keeps it even and calm, and another voice sounds like he's finding this all very funny. I don't think now's the time for me to be convincing Lydia to make breakfast. I make sure I'm invisible and creep my way into the kitchen. Christian is standing close to Lydia, having her backed into a corner of the cupboards. They're both holding coffee mugs. Lydia clutches hers in both hands so tight her knuckles are turning white. Christian is holding his exclusively by the handle, his other hand relaxing on the counter.

"You know I was busy. I told you that," Lydia says, trying to ice him out.

"Yea, but I haven't seen you in a while. I wanted to see you," Christian inches his hand closer to her.

"I told you no. You seem to forget that word when it's inconvenient for you."

Christian groans. "I'm not perfect, Lydia. You expect so much of me and I don't ask anything of you." He snaps at me.

"You don't? You're the one who asked me to drop my dinner with my family just to eat Chinese food with you last night," Lydia slams her mug down on the counter, the coffee splashes out over onto her hand. "And you were so pissed off when I said no, that you showed up, unannounced and drunk."

"Are you seriously going to keep holding that against me?" Christian laughs coldly. "Seriously, Lydia. You're being uptight. Loosen up, Baby," Christian takes a step closer and puts his hand on her upper arm.

Lydia smacks his hand away. "Out," She demands, ice in her voice. "It's time you left. You've overstayed your welcome. Get out." Christian slams his mug down on the countertop.

"Fine. I'm gone," He struts out of the room. I can hear him grab his keys and slam the front door behind him. I use a little magic to give him a nice stumble out of the door. Lydia glares at the doorway for a minute. She mumbles a very rude name about him and dumps out both the coffee mugs, adding them to the pile of dishes.

"Babes?" I ask, making myself visible again. Lydia jumps a little at hearing my voice and turns to see me. "You wanna tell me about all that?"

"I don't know. I'm not in the mood for any arguments," Lydia turns on the faucet and reaches into the sink to plug it. She squirts some dish soap into the sink.

"I don't want to argue either, and we won't. I already told you, you can hang out with whoever you want, it's your life. I'm not going to get mad at you or try to fight. I just want to know what's going on," I sit down at the table.

Lydia turns off the faucet and begins to place dishes into the sudsy water. "Christian showed up last night. Drunk. Dad let him crash on the couch. If he weren't drunk, I would've sent him packing. Trust me, I didn't want him here," Lydia says with a laugh.

"Is being drunk something that bothers you?" I ask. Something about her comment on Christian being drunk makes me feel insecure about my habit of getting slightly buzzed.

Lydia groans. "More or less, yes. It's the slurred speech, stumbling around, making dumb decisions drunk where his breath reeks of cheap beer," she shudders at the last part.