Maraschino 🍒 (gxg)

11

the world kind of sucks right now. here's a new chapter.

./.

Stephanie booked a hotel room in the city. After the Uber dropped them off, they checked into the room, staying silent the whole time. Stephanie already had her luggage tossed on the bed -- the single bed. Chelsea guessed she was sleeping on the floor.

"We can share the bed," said Stephanie, softly, like she wasn't trying to wake anyone, like she had read Chelsea's thoughts. "If you're fine with that."

"Yeah, I'd prefer that over the floor, honestly."

Chelsea took a seat at the recliner in the corner while Stephanie rummaged through her suitcase. She grabbed a bundle of clothes and closed the bag, tossing some of the items at Chelsea.

"They're going to be big on you, but they're better than sleeping in your party clothes."

In her hands was a pajama set -- faux silk in a cherry blossom pattern. The sleeves went past the palm of her hands and the bottoms covered her feet when she put them on, but they were comfortable.

Stephanie was sitting on the bed and flipping through TV channels when Chelsea emerged from the bathroom, changed and with a clean face. She tossed her clothes on the floor; she wanted to burn them.

She checked the time on her phone: 2:28 am. She was exhausted, but she was still shaken up by what just happened at the party. Her brain was tired, but racing at the same time, replaying the whole night in blurry detail. She honestly didn't know what would have happened if Stephanie hadn't found her, and she tried not to think about that.

Chelsea joined Stephanie on the bed, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do next. Would it be weird or rude if she just claimed a side of the bed and went to sleep? Should she stay up longer to show her gratitude? All she wanted to do was go to sleep and forget the night for a while; they could talk about it later. Thankfully, Stephanie spoke up before she came to a conclusion.

"Why did you get sent to Greenwich?"

The question took Chelsea by surprise, but she was starting to learn that Stephanie was a quiet, albeit blunt, person. "I mean, I said it when I first met you guys. My mom was sick of me."

She expected Stephanie to be snarky – roll her eyes or snicker – like Carlie or Manny would have been, but instead she stayed serious, keeping eye contact. She held a seriousness about her, concentrated, like a teacher who genuinely cared that you understood the material, and it made Chelsea trust her more. "Specifically, what sent you there? Did you do something?"

"Just my mom. She didn't like that I was skipping class during the week and burning dumpsters on the weekend."

Stephanie cracked a smile. "How juvenile."

"Well, we're all technically juveniles if we're all at Greenwich."

"That's true."

"It wasn't just that, though," Chelsea continued. "The cops had to take me home a couple of times in the middle of the night. She didn't like that either."

"At least you came home alive."

Chelsea smirked. "That's what I tried telling her, but it didn't help." She sighed. "I know she's a single mom and all that, but she isn't the best mom. I don't remember the last time she said she was happy for me or proud of me. It feels like I'm raising myself sometimes."

Maybe it was the booze still in her system, but Chelsea found it very easy to talk to Stephanie. She didn't show any judgment or bias, and listened to everything she said. So she just kept talking about her past until her phone started buzzing on the bed next to her. Carlie's name lit up the screen.