“I guess so.” I open my closet and walk into it, the immense space almost overwhelming because it’s been a long time since I’ve seen it. So many memories overwhelm me, ones filled with loathing from my parents and self-loathing from myself. For a moment, I swear to God the damn walls feel like they’re closing in on me again.
I run my fingers along the fabrics of each dress and shirt, remembering what it was like to have an endless amount of clothes, money, anything of material value. I was showered with things, and in return, I was not showered with affection and love. I would trade anything, live on the streets in a soggy wet box, just to have my parents genuinely love me.
Ella steps up behind me and evaluates my closet. “Are you sure your maid’s not going to tell your mom or dad we snuck in here?”
I shrug as I sift through the dresses, the sight of each one making me sick to my stomach, because each one carries a memory of a time I wish I could forget. All the horrible things I’ve done in them, all the horrible things I felt. “I doubt it. She hates my mother and father almost as much as I do. It doesn’t really matter, though.” From the back section, I select a dress that flows to the floor. “I mean, what are they going to do? Kick me out?”
“How about make you stay,” she says from behind me. “I know you don’t want to be here.”
“I don’t.” I glance over my shoulder at her, forcing a smile. “I guess you’ll just have to owe me for this big time.”
“I think that all kind of depends on why you brought me here.” She wanders around, her eyes huge as she takes in the large selection of shoes on the back wall. “Because I’m really confused right now.”
I smile at her and then hold the dress out toward her. “We’re here for this.”
Ella examines the dress with a wary expression on her face. “What is that?”
“You’re such a goof sometimes. Seriously.” I push the dress at her. “It’s for you. I thought you could wear it at your wedding.”
She stares at the dress that has a shimmering black silk top, a red ribbon securing the back, and an elegant flowing white bottom bunched together in places by red and black sewn roses. She tentatively reaches out and touches the fabric with a stoic expression as she runs her fingers along one of the black flowers.
“Where did you get this?” she asks, touching the silk top.
“I wore it one year for… for Halloween,” I say, choking down the images of what I did while wearing the dress. I drank drink after drink that night and chased them down with pills. I’m surprised I didn’t end up in the hospital, although I probably would have been better off, instead of sleeping with two different guys in the same night and then throwing up alone in the bathroom afterward. I almost puke just thinking about it now, thinking about who I was.
She glances up at me. “You wore this for Halloween?”
I nod. “But it was actually just a dress I bought from a store and then turned it into a Victorian-style dress.”
“I guessed that much.” She lets her arm fall to her side. “But it looks so… unlike anything you would wear.”
I laugh, because she’s right, yet at the same time I’m also standing next to her in an old pair of shorts and a band T-shirt I stole form Ethan’s room. “I guess, but it was also Halloween and I was supposed to dress up as something unlike myself.”
“That’s true.” Her gaze returns to the dress and she bites back a smile. “Can I try it on?”
“Of course.” I hand it to her and head for the door so she can change in the closet. “You’re not offended I gave you an old costume, though, are you?” I ask as I shut the door.
She shakes her head, slipping the dress’s straps off the hanger. “Are you kidding me? It’s, like, the perfect dress, Lila. Seriously.”
I smile. “I thought it might be.”
“Lila?”
“Yeah.”
She offers me a genuine smile and makes me feel good inside, like I did something right. “Thank you.”
I return her smile wholeheartedly. “You’re welcome.”
I shut the door and sink down on the four-post bed. It still has the same satin white comforter on it that’s trimmed with lace. There are fluffy throw pillows all over it and the same floor-length curtains hang over the French doors. Everything is clean and tidy. Everything looks perfect. When I turned thirteen my mom spent weeks redecorating this room as a birthday present for me. I told her I wanted a pool party with my friends. Hell, I would have taken letting my friends come over and hang out over curtains and pillows that made the room pretty in theory—but it’d always felt so overly empty and unwelcoming. This used to be my life, and even back then I didn’t like it very much, yet I always kept going with it because it was what I was supposed to do. This kind of lifestyle, flourishing on the outside and no substance on the inside, was ingrained into my mind since the day I entered the world. I was pretty much doomed to be just like either my mom or my sister, and I would have probably ended up like one of them eventually, but I got lucky. Lucky because I met Ethan. He saved me not just from an addiction but also from myself. He showed me that I was worth getting clean. I’m worth more than self-destruction and emptiness.
I really wish I could talk to him at the moment. I just want to hear the sound of his voice. God, I wish I could kiss him again, feel his arms around me, feel him inside me, pushing me over the edge, making my body feel things I never thought were possible. He said I could call him whenever I needed him and it feels like I need him because this God damn house is getting to me and is surfacing the need to take a pill. It affects my emotions too much, the place where I endured my father telling me over and over again just how worthless I am. It’s where it all began, where I entered the world, doomed to strive for perfection, even though it doesn’t exist. I strived and strived, with everything I had in me, nearly killing myself to achieve something that I could never achieve because it’s not real. This life I’m in now, with Ethan, with Ella, is what’s real.
I decide to take Ethan up on the offer. I take my phone out of my back pocket and dial his number and put the phone up to my ear.
“Yeah?” he says quickly, answering after the fourth ring.
“Hey, it’s me, Lila” I say stupidly, and then roll my eyes at myself. We’ve talked to each other a thousand times on the phone, but it feels different now that we’ve had sex and I feel sort of nervous.
“Yeah, I know,” he replies in a rushed voice. “Your name came up on the screen.”
“Oh yeah, duh.” I coil a strand of my short hair around my finger, unsure how to react to his standoffish attitude. “Sorry, I’m being a little bit spacey, aren’t I?”
He doesn’t answer right away and I can hear someone talking in the background. A woman. London probably. “Did you need something?” he finally asks, distracted.
“Not really,” I say, unraveling my hair from my finger. “I was just sitting in my old room and suddenly thought of you.”
“You’re in your old room… why?”
“Because,” I start, but there’s a loud crash in the background and then it gets really loud with voices and rustles. “I’m sorry. You sound busy. I’ll just call back later.”
I expect him to argue a little, but instead he quickly says, “Okay, talk to you soon.” Then he hangs up.
I try not to sulk or let it get to me, because I’ve been so accustomed to guys blowing me off, but I wasn’t in love with them. And I had my pills. As the urge to cry over his brush-off overpowers me, I want to leave the room and go track down my mother’s stash, because she has them hidden all over the house.
“Jesus, Lila,” Ella calls out from the closet. “Is there a secret to putting the dress on… I can’t get the ribbon to tie.”
“Do you need my help?” I say starting to get up when the closet door opens and she walks out, the flowing dress swishing with her steps. It’s not tied and so it’s loose in the front, but she still looks beautiful. I instantly place my hand over my mouth
and shake my head, my eyes welling up. “Oh my God, you look so beautiful.”
She swallows hard, glancing down at the dress, gripping some of the fabric in her hands. “I guess so.”
I lower my hands from my mouth. “You don’t sound happy. Do you not like the dress?”
“No, I like the dress.” She glances up at me, confused. “It just feels like there’s something missing.”
I move forward and fiddle with her hair. “It’s probably because you don’t have any makeup on and your hair’s not done, but we can get it done for the wedding.”
She shakes her head again, turning it to the side and looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall next to the vanity. She stares at herself forever and I can tell she’s about to cry. Sucking in a breath, she turns for the closet.
“I’m going to get out of it,” she mutters and then disappears into the closet, shutting the door.
I stand there for a moment, deciding whether or not to go in there and find out what’s wrong. She’s obviously hurting over something and I wonder if it’s something about Micha or her family. My best guess would be her family, since they’ve been the center of her problems in the past.
Deciding to go find out, I step forward toward the closet but stop when my mom walks into my room.
She’s wearing an unwrinkled cream-colored pencil skirt and silver satin blouse. Her heels match her shirt and the purse draped over her shoulder, the purse that I know holds her bottle of pills. Her blonde hair is done in a bun and it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, but the lack of wrinkles in her face probably mean she’s recently had Botox done.
“Jesus.” She stumbles back, surprised to see me and the heel of her shoe makes a streak across the shiny white-and-black marble floor. “How did you get in here?”
I clutch my hand around my phone, remembering the last time I saw her and my father and they both told me how stupid I was for moving to Vegas. That I was going to turn into nothing and that to my father I was already nothing, worthless, a huge massive disappointment that he wished had never been born. He didn’t want garbage like me in his house. Those were his exact words and that’s when I jumped into my car and drove back to Ella’s, making the decision to never see them again. And I’ve been good on my promise until today.
“I walked through the front door,” I say, regretting coming here, but Ella needed a dress. She deserves one, a good, pretty one that will make her feel special on her wedding day. Because whether she’ll admit it or not, almost every girl wants the perfect dress.
My mother stands in the doorway, looking me over as she grips the doorknob. “You look like shit, Lila. That T-shirt…” She makes a repulsed face. “And that godawful haircut. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking anything,” I tell her, eyeing her Botoxed face. “Other than I was sick of looking artificial.”
“Watch it, young lady,” she warns, letting go of the doorknob and stepping forward. “Or you won’t get what you came here for.”
I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows at her, unsure what she means. “And why did I come here?”
She waits, like she’s expecting me to give her the answer, when I don’t have a clue what’s going on. “So you finally took my advice and came back. Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about this, Lila.” She walks into the room, her head held arrogantly high as she takes in my appearance like I’m a sideshow circus freak. “Do you know how frustrated your father and I have been with your life choices lately?”
“Probably about as frustrated as you’ve been with them since I was born,” I say, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.
She purses her lips and places her hands on her hips as she reaches me—close enough, yet her eyes look so far away. “Lila Summers, you know the rules in this house. You won’t talk to me like that while you’re here.”
I’ve always been taught to obey, but seeing her like this, my vision undiluted, I feel like I’m seeing her for the first time, along with everything she’s done and said to me over the years. “Yes, I do, mother. Don’t express anything, right? At least in a healthy way.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know what it means.”
“No, I don’t.” She rushes toward me and gets in my face. “If you’re going to move back in here with me, there will be rules.”
I smile at her politely, suddenly understanding what she thinks I’m here for. I’m about to say something when the closet door swings open and Ella walks out carrying the dress over her arm, her eyes red, like she’s been crying. She stops dead in her tracks as she takes one look at me and my mother and tenses, eyeing the door like she’s going to bolt. And I don’t blame her. I’m thinking the exact same thing.
“Who are you?” my mother asks curtly, her gaze sliding over Ella’s torn shorts and faded purple tank top.
Ella glances at me with a what-the-hell-should-I-do look and I can see the apprehension on her face. She doesn’t do well with parents, and even though I don’t completely understand why, I’m guessing that it’s because her dad’s an alcoholic and probably wasn’t that nice to her.
“She’s my friend,” I state, swinging around my mom and grabbing Ella’s arm. I jerk her toward the door a little harder than I meant to, but I’m trying to portray inner strength, even though it’s hard to feel it whenever my mother’s around. “And we were just leaving.”
“Like hell you are.” My mother’s fingers snag my elbow and she yanks on my arm. The side of her purse brushes against my arm and I can’t help but think how easy it would be to snatch it from her and steal her bottle of pills, knowing the instant one went down my throat, I’d feel better, but it’d be a fake better. “You aren’t walking out of here, especially when you look like that.”
“Look like what?” I wrench my arm away from her. Inner strength. Do not let her get to you. It’s difficult, though, without the pills. “A normal human being?”
Her eyes turn icy as they narrow in on me. “I’m not going to let you screw up your life, even though you’ve been so determined to do so. It’s time to start over.” She cuts her gaze to Ella. “And get away from the people who aren’t suitable for you.”
Ella glares at her as she starts to open her mouth and even though I’m curious as to what’s going to come out of it, I decide it’s time for me to put my mother in her place, because I need to stand up for myself. “That’s what I’m doing right now.” I flash her my most beautiful smile, and then grab Ella’s hand and hurry for the front door.
One foot in front of the other. Get the hell away from here and all the emptiness it holds.
My mother starts yelling at us as she follows us through the house, saying mean things about me and Ella, and she even tries to take the dress away, telling me that neither one of us is worthy of having it, not when we looks so trashy. That’s it. She can take jabs at me because I’m used to it, but not at my friends. It’s ridiculous and pathetic. As we reach the entryway, I whirl around and threaten her with the one thing I know will make her stop.
“Walk away, Mother, or I’ll tell everyone your secrets,” I warn in a low tone, walking toward her. I get in her face, surprising her and myself. “I will make sure everyone knows just how great of a person you are outside and inside.” I smile as she frowns, her face draining of color, and inside I do a pleased dance.
“Watch your mouth.” Her voice trembles, but her face is subdued.
“Oh, I will.” I let out a sharp laugh. “I’ll watch it as I walk around announcing to anyone who will listen just how great you and Dad are behind closed doors.”
I’m putting her worst fears out there. Part of me wants to keep going, slap her across the face, tell her how worthless she is, beat her down like she’s done to me for years, but I don’t want to turn into her either. Ella and I walk out of the house and I make a silent vow to myself that I will never, ever return, not to her, my father, that lifestyle, or the pills. There’s nothing ther
e for me. Never has been. Now that my head is finally clear, I can see that now. See what I want.
I want a life of my own.
Chapter Eighteen
Lila
After we drop the dress off at Ella’s house, we change into nicer clothes and then I take her out to a nightclub as a sort of bachelorette party. I asked her if she wanted anyone else there, but she told me no and that besides Micha, I was really the only person she wanted to hang out with at the moment. The nightclub isn’t as fancy as the ones I’m used to, tucked in a corner of a run-down neighborhood, but the entrance fee was cheap and they have two-dollar Jell-O shots.
“Are you okay?” Ella calls out over the loud, booming music, crossing her legs as she spins back and forth in the barstool. She has on a short green dress and her hair is down and curled at the ends. She keeps getting texts from Micha and each one brings this lovey-dovey look to her eyes that I envy and want. “You seem really sad.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I have a backless white-and-black dress on that hits halfway above my knees. It looks really fancy but I actually bought it at a discount store.
She takes a sip of her drink, looking uncomfortable. “Because of your mom?”
I shrug and sip my fruity drink. I promised myself I wasn’t going to drink that much, but I’m walking in dangerous territory right now, having just got done with my mother and the fact that I haven’t heard from Ethan since we had that awkward, rushed conversation. “Yeah, but I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s okay.”
She flips her hair over her shoulders and fans her hand in front of her face. There’s no air conditioning inside the club and there are way too many people in the compacted area. “Okay, what do you want to do then?” A devious grin appears on her face as she slams back the Jell-O shot. “Talk about Ethan?” She slams the little plastic cup down on the counter top.
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