🗸 the quintessences of cherry & cigarette

4.6: struggimento

***trigger warning: suicidal thoughts***

Just as Cerise scales the stairs to the front porch of her house, her phone rings. The sound of it nearly gives her a heart attack. Quickly fishing it out, she sees it's Devin calling. She declines the call and shoots him a series of short, hurried messages promising to call back a soon as she can, then turns the device off. With her set of keys, she enters the house, cautiously moving towards the kitchen when she finds the hall empty.

There, Cerise is met with a red-faced Jennifer sitting on one of the tall stools near the kitchen island and nursing a mug of black coffee. "Where were you?" she asks when she sees her.

"I was at Mathes--"

"And don't you dare lie to me. I already rang up Matheson's when you weren't answering my calls. Clarisse said you didn't show up."

Cerise stays quiet; her mind completely blank, her arms glued to her sides, and her feet rooted into the spot she stands on. The last remaining alcohol still flurrying in her system is not helping; she feels the ground tilting every now and then.

Jennifer sets her coffee on the counter and nears Cerise, the clicking of her heels sounding like doomsday's clamoring oncoming. "I'm gonna ask you one last time, Cerise. Where were you?" Jennifer's voice is cold and makes an unsaid, malicious promise.

Cerise slowly shuffles back in an attempt to maintain a few feet's distance between herself and her soon-to-be stepmother. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again," somehow wrestles out of her.

"Just answer the question." Jennifer takes another step forward, making Cerise take one backward.

Before Cerise can make another attempt at a lie to save her skin, Jennifer's mask of annoyance slips into a disgusted frown - eyes narrowing and nose scrunching. "Good lord... you've been drinking!"

That is all it takes for Cerise's blank brain to jumpstart as she blurts, "it was just this one time. Some friends wanted to celebrate--"

"I don't care!" Jennifer slices in sharply, "what I do care about, though, is how Christian will feel when he finds out his daughter's turning into a juvenile delinquent..."

Panic settles deep in Cerise's stomach, turning it to cold dead load. Her hands are clammy as she fists them to keep them from shaking. "Please, Jenny," she implores, "I'm sorry and I promise it won't happen again. Just, please, please don't tell Dad."

Jennifer looks at her with such disdain that Cerise wishes for the earth to crack open and swallow her - take her away from here, away from this cursed house, and from this even more cursed life.

"Fine," says Jennifer and Cerise almost heaves a sigh of relief, however, she hasn't finished. "But I can't let you off the hook just like that," she clasps her palms together, "...now, can I?"

Cerise holds her breath, following Jennifer with her eyes as she returns to her perch on the stool and takes a contemplative sip from the mug. She finally speaks, "you're grounded..."

And Cerise exhales. That isn't so bad.

"For a month."

Unable to restrain the sound of protest that she lets loose, Cerise says, "but what about school? I have mid-terms coming and--"

"You should've thought about your mid-terms before you went out to get drunk and break the law against underage drinking!" snaps Jennifer. "Now, either you accept the punishment or I tell Christian about your despicable shenanigans. The choice is yours."

Helpless, Cerise can only nod and acquiesce in defeat. "I'll accept the punishment."

"Of course, you will. You deserve it."