Chapter 13

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Assuming I'd be swimming tonight, I didn't bother with make-up. I only ran some waterproof mascara over my lashes to look as though I'd made the effort, feeling a little bolder than usual, and slipped into my bikinis. They were vibrant emerald green in colour, which really stood out on my olive skin and brought out the green flecks in my amber eyes. They looked nice on, despite the fact that I'd grown since the last time I'd worn them. My breasts were fuller and my hips were wider, which in turn made the material look smaller on me, but I didn't much mind. In the effort of trying to stop acting like a girl, I wanted to act and dress more like a woman, too.

I put on a pair of high waisted denim shorts and a midriff shirt that I knotted at the side, and packed a spare change of clothes just in case. I never knew what we would end up doing when I went to Kall's, so planning ahead was key to save me the trip back home again.

My hair was wild in tangles around my face from the beach walk, so I ran a brush through it and smoothed out my bangs, not bothering to wash it until later tonight. I tied my hair in a high ponytail, fluffing it up a little and proud of myself for looking half the part tonight. I'd caught a little colour in my skin over the past few weeks which added some warmth to my face, and what might have looked like a couple of years in age.

I didn't mind looking a little older, actually. It only bothered me that I closely resembled young Darla, and although my mother was a stunningly beautiful woman when she was my age, I despised looking anything like her.

Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for her now. The alcohol had weathered her face into gaunt hollows and stretched lines, her skin dehydrated and far too tired for a young mother like she had been when she had me. There were still remnants of that beautiful woman in there, her thick hair and gold eyes, but it was hardly noticeable anymore under her continuous haze.

I was thankful to only share few words with her before I hurried out the door well past seven. She was already on the wobbly legs of intoxication, although reasonably more pliant than her usual bitter self, encouraging me to go out and "have fun with my friends". Her thin veil of sweetness usually meant she was on something stronger tonight, and I was hit with a pang of remorse for leaving her alone. I considered calling Kall and cancelling my plans to stay with her instead, but I was all too familiar with the fight that would come later.

At first she'd be appreciative of my thoughtfulness in staying to spend time with her, but the more drinks she downed, the more explosive she'd become once she realised that I didn't trust her to be okay alone. That I worried for her safety. No doubt she'd be screaming by eight-thirty for my obnoxious insinuation that she couldn't handle herself, and then I might even be awarded a face slap. Or two, if she was feeling especially spiteful.

My mother could bring out a fury in me that didn't exist until the moment my eyes bled red, and sadly I was so used to it that it was more common than the times we got along. By this point, almost nineteen years in, I could endure it. I could swallow the poison that was meant for her. I could take her pain and bury it deep within me and never tell a soul. I had done it enough.

But I didn't want to pull out on Kallum tonight. Or Margot. Kall and I both knew that Darla would do what she did whether I was with her or not. That if I stayed home, she would make me watch her swallow every drop without an ounce of shame in her hollow chest. She might even raise a glass to me for making her the person she was now, as if having me was somehow my own selfish choice that she'd had to live with for nearly nineteen years.

I hated the idea of leaving her perchance to drink herself to death. I wasn't sure I'd be able to bear coming home later tonight to the visual of my mother's cold, unmoving body, lying in a puddle of her own mistakes...

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