by Rose Fall
The game was driving me to retreat into another memory, when I was saved by a knock on the door. I hopped up and opened the door eagerly, already knowing who it wouldn’t be.
I stood frozen as I tried to take in the two figures before me.
This night was about to get a lot more interesting.
The Bright Side of Rock Bottom
“We’ve received a report on suspicion of consumption of alcohol by minors. Is there a party going on here?”
I shook my head slowly and I imagined myself continuously banging it into the door.
“How many people are in this home ma’am?”
“Just three,” I mumbled, and then Ashton whisper shouted, “Shh Eli! I’m not here.” I turned to stare pitifully at the hiding position she’d chosen behind the couch.
I’d already dismissed our best case scenario‒ that the police officers were strippers that had gotten the wrong address‒ due to their middle aged faces, and because one was a heavy built woman with subtle hints of a stubborn mustache above her upper lip. Still, we weren’t that screwed until Ashton opened her mouth.
“Whose home is this, ma’am?” The woman asked in her raspy smoker’s voice.
“Crap!” Ash exclaimed loudly from behind the couch again. Slowly her hand rose from behind it, her head following reluctantly when the bearded lady called for her.
“Technically, it’s mine,” she mumbled as she performed a telling stumble to the front door, “My grandfather left it to me in his will, but my parents like to think of it as theirs. I’m more than happy to go with that, if it will…get me out of trouble…” She stopped upon noticing the officers’ uninterested expressions.
“Are there any adults here?” The old man asked in an impatient voice.
“Technically, we’re adults,” Ash answered helpfully.
“Not that it’s even necessary, but we’re gonna need to perform some tests on all of you. Could you call your other friend please?” He gestured toward Rachel, whom was still lying on the couch, open mouthed and staring at the ceiling.
“What kind of test? I’m not prepared…” Ashton had begun to mumble anxiously.
I barely heard the bearded lady snort, “Clearly,” because as I stepped outside I was distracted by what I imagined to be a glare on Jessie’s face from his stance on his front porch. It was all the confirmation I needed to know how this had occurred. Yet even as I heard the clinks of metal from the handcuffs and Ashton’s loud sobs as her and Rachel were being escorted away, I could only think of how glad I was to see him, and how I wouldn’t have minded getting arrested, if it meant he would finally forgive me.
---
I smiled pitifully as I watched them walk towards collection, Ashton’s walk significantly more subdued than it had been last night.
I’d gotten here as early as I could, but I was sure nothing would undo the permanent scars that came with doing hard time. Well, at least not from Ash’s mind.
“What are you doing?” Ash exclaimed as Rachel grabbed my sweater and placed it on her head, tying it below her chin.
“It’s a graduation hat. You spent the night in jail, you are officially a badass!”
“Oh my god!” Ash exclaimed, making me wonder if the realization news had just hit now that she was sober, but she was staring at her phone.
“Don’t tell me…nude pics!” I exclaimed, wondering if it was possible for anything else to have gone wrong.
“Ten missed calls! From my parents! They’re coming today.”
“Dun dun dun,” Rachel said dramatically, surely trying to make the situation worst.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, trying to do damage control,
“We’ll get you cleaned up before they get here, they won’t know anything.”
“Lying too?” Rachel snorted, “So much for that Catholic school education.”
“God, just shut your mouth for one second,” I said in exhaustion, watching Rachel throw up her arms in mock surrender.
“We’ll be right there with you the whole time, we’ll help you,” I tried to say encouragingly to Ashton.
“If there’s anything we’re good at, it’s deception,” Rachel said, throwing an arm around me and turning to face Ashton.
I eyed Ash wearily as she began to sniffle.
“Are you really crying?” Rachel asked, sounding more confused than condescending.
“Yes,” Ashton sniffled, “But not because I’m screwed. My head is about to explode!” Her sniffles grew into loud, theatrical sobs as she finished, and despite the fact that we were standing in a police station, I had to press my lips together to hold in the laughter.
“Tell me about it,” Rachel agreed, “It’s almost enough to make me cry too.” She moved towards Ashton again, wrapping an arm around her and walking towards the parking lot. “Now stop blubbering, you’ve already got raccoon eyes and we’re starting to look like the regulars,” I heard her say as they walked away.
I stood there for a moment, embracing the absurdity of all of this and the fact that Ashton and Rachel were finally getting along. Who knew all it would take was a night in jail? Perhaps, we’d all hit rock bottom, and the only way to go now, was up.
---
“Um, bad news, I think they’re already here.”
“Yep, thanks Rachel,” I replied sarcastically as I stared at Mrs. Willis’s cherry red sports car and Mr. Willis’s silver Acura in our driveway.
Ashton looked as if she was going to cry again. “Deep breaths,” I said as I ran up to the door with her.
“Since I’m the only one that isn’t hungover, let me take the lead,” I said, handing them both breath mints once Rachel caught up.
“Ashton!” Her mom yelled when we’d opened the door.
“Hi Liz, Mr. Willis,” Rachel and I began an awkward chorus of greetings meant to divert the attention from Ashton. Her mother had always insisted we call her by her first name, and I couldn’t help thinking of how much more appropriate that was now that she would no longer be Mrs. Willis. Mr. Willis seemed to realize this too, but they were both too busy fretting over Ashton to react.
“Where have you all been?” Liz asked, digging both her hands into Ash’s hair as she tried to smooth out the wild bush that had replaced her normally perfect coif.
“Sleepover,” I said quickly, subtly elbowing Rachel when she began giggling.
“Yeah, Mindy DeCristo and her sister are actually here for the week, not that far away and they invited us over for a girl’s night,” I smiled, hoping Ash had never mentioned to her mother the fact that I never really liked Mindy or that she’d gone off to vacation in Morocco for the summer.
“I was in prison!” Ashton exclaimed as if she’d suddenly gotten turrets.
Everyone was silent for a moment and I imagined myself putting a muzzle over her mouth, suddenly deciding that innocence was just plain annoying.
I could hear Rachel muttering, “It was just jail, Ash.”
“They dropped the charges; it won’t be on my record or anything…” Ash stammered on.
I was sure her father was about to have a heart attack. By the time he’d said, “Eliza, Rachel, could you please excuse us?” I was already halfway out of the room, my nails digging into Rachel’s wrist as I dragged her behind me.
We went into the kitchen, closing the sliding doors behind us so that we were out of sight, but if we sat very still, we could still make out most of the conversation. I crouched below the island, pulling my knees up to my chest as if I was trying to hide from them. I smiled as Rachel joined me, and we cringed as Ashton’s father began yelling something about disappointment and throwing her future away and messing up everything he’d worked for.
“Well if this isn’t déjà vu…” Rachel said.
I sighed, knowing exactly what she meant, even without her having to finish the sentence.
“Not so bad,” I tried to sound positive, “I learned all of the curse words I know from my parents.”
S
he shook her head, “See mine just threw things. I learned to always wear shoes in the house.”
I snorted, “That’s why you guys only had plastic cups!”
She laughed too, smacking my arm and shushing me when we heard Liz’s muffled voice, “Those girls are trouble…you know better…life of crime…”
“Oh come on!” Rachel exclaimed, “I thought she was one of us!”
We simultaneously gasped when we heard what Ash had yelled back, “You don’t have a right to judge anyone, you adulterer!”
“I don’t even think I’d say that to my mother,” Rachel whispered excitedly.
“You’ve said worst,” I disagreed.
There was a mumble of something along the lines of; “Don’t talk to your mother like that!” from Mr. Willis and I nodded in approval, “noble.”
“He’s the nerd that got the captain of the cheerleading team. He knew it was too good to be true.”
I elbowed her again, even as she exclaimed “Stop nudging me!”
Though blunt, there was no denying that there was truth to what she’d said. Rachel and I had always liked Ashton’s parents. Besides being the only functional adult couple we knew (past tense) Ash’s mom was a total badass (“before being confined by the soul-sucking institution otherwise known as marriage” (Rachel’s words not mine)).
She’d moved out of her parent’s house at 16, flirted with a life of crime (so you could argue that I was a better role model than her), and even gone to rehab before going back to her hometown and marrying the kid who used to do her homework in high school (formally known as Ashton’s father). She was a gorgeous, leggy blond with devastatingly blue eyes who had managed to keep her figure thanks to hot yoga four times a week while he was tall and lanky. He’d started balding pretty much as soon as he got out of college and he wore these circular eyeglasses that were surely the first pair of spectacles ever invented.
Liz was one of us and though I’d never admit it, I wasn’t surprised when I learned marriage didn’t work out for her.
“Maybe she doesn’t want Ashton to be around us because she knows what it’s like to be us,” I whispered to Rachel.
She raised an eyebrow at me, “Did I ever drop out of school to play tambourine for some band called Dogs With Whiskers?”
“No,” I smiled, “But you wish you had!”
“Give me some credit,” she said rolling her eyes. I laughed at the thought that she actually deserved any. “She’s just a hypocrite,” she added.
“Aren’t we all?” I asked rhetorically.
“Hey!” I exclaimed when she elbowed me.
“Give me a break with the philosophical shit!” She said, rolling her eyes at me again.
“I’m not going anywhere!” I heard Ashton yell, and I shushed Rachel as I tried to catch up on what we’d missed.
“This is the part where she gets taken away from the ‘bad influences’ and gets her life back on track. Keep up,” she said as if the whole thing had been obvious.
“Ashton, you need to come home with us,” her father said in his authoritative voice. Rachel gave me a smug smile.
“The last thing I want to do is go home with you two! You should trust me enough to let me make my own decisions and if you don’t too bad! I’m 18.”
“Oh, the I-am-legally-an-adult-now card, cold,” Rachel said, but her voice couldn’t have sounded more pleased. “Maybe Ashton’s got some of her mom’s genes after all,” she said, sounding all too hopeful.
I stared at her, really wanting to know what went on inside her head.
“You want to hear me say it?” She whispered, “I do feel bad. I mean I had fun, and I think she did too, I think it was good for her. But I wouldn’t do it again, if I had a time machine. You know, especially now that she’s a convict and everything.”
“Not funny,” I said, trying not to smile. “Don’t do it again,” I said, pointing a stern finger at her.
“Yes ma’am,” she said mockingly. “God, if Liz only knew you’re even sterner than she is!”
“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, trying to sound dignified.
“I know you will. You’re losing your edge,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.
“I got Ash drunk right on time. I’m going to need a new partner in crime and she’s new. She’ll be good for a few years.”
“Well, thanks, I feel special,” I said sarcastically. Then I smiled, “I know you’re trying to scare me, but I know you’ll take care of her too cause I know something you don’t.”
She barely reacted, but I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate.
“Well,” I said, correcting my statement, “I know something you don’t know I know.”
I said nothing even as she stared at me in suspicion. But I knew that if Rachel would threaten Julian, in the interest of protecting Ashton’s heart then she would
always look out for her. Rachel had always been fiercely loyal, and now that she’d finally accepted Ashton I envied her, because she now had the two best guardian angels a girl could have.
“If it’s something nice, I didn’t do it,” she said.
“Umm huh,” I said mockingly, knowing I was driving her crazy.
I jumped when the front door slammed. I’d missed the end of the conversation, but I had a feeling that our silent agreement to protect her had come just in time.
“Hey,” I said as Ash’s bloodshot eyes peeked through the kitchen doors.
“So, can I move in with you?” She said in between sobs.
She hesitated when she was finally in front of us, and I gathered Rachel’s outstretched arms had been the reason.
“Hey, a hug from Rachel is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” I encouraged, “This is the definition of a Kodak moment.”
I scouted over as Ash came to sit in between us and immaturely returned Rachel’s expression, sticking my tongue out to her too.
“Take it now or forever hold your peace,” Rachel said, still motioning for Ashton. I watched in awe as she sobbed into Rachel’s shoulder, Rachel’s arm sliding soothingly up and down her back.
“Oh nice, a marriage joke,” I heard Ashton mumble. And this time neither Rachel nor I were able to hold our laughter. She scooted away from Rachel, staring at both of us like we’d grown extra heads.
“Welcome to the Damaged Daughters Club,” Rachel said when she’d stopped laughing, “We meet under here every Tuesday.” She motioned to the island.
“Yeah, yeah” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek, “Just get me an aspirin, I feel like shit.”
Rachel let out an excited gasp, “She just cursed!”
I laughed, rolling my eyes as Ashton began, “It’s not the first time I’ve cursed you know, though I’m glad you find pleasure in my corruption…”
“This was the “surprise” your parents wanted to give you? Announcing their divorce in person?” I asked, remembering how excited she was when she first learned they were coming to visit.
“Now that I think about it, I guess they didn’t use the word surprise,” she said solemnly.
We were silent for a moment, but none of us could hold our laughter longer than that.
I got that feeling again, of floating above the scene as an observer instead of actually being in it. This time I knew we were all going to be okay.
Climax
Rachel barged into my room singing her own remixed version of Usher’s “Climax” and staring me as if I was supposed to get whatever point she was trying to convey.
“I don’t speak your language, Rachel,” I groaned, pulling my covers back over my head.
She sighed dramatically, I could practically hear her rolling her eyes, “Jessie’s here.”
My eyes snapped upon as I tried to process her words.
“What?” I questioned dumbly as I reemerged from the covers.
“He came with Julian. You should have seen them, just marching up to that
door all hot and sweaty…”
I ran to the bathroom, desperately trying to make something presentable out of my under‒eye circles and the flaming nest that had replaced my hair, the evident result of lying in bed all day. Rachel was still standing at the door when I’d run back to my room.
“Wear that,” she said, pointing towards a mini skirt and low cut halter top she’d laid out on my bed.
“What am I? A two‒dollar hooker? ” I shook my head at the clothes, quieting the voice in my head that was entertaining the idea.
“Hey, they’re your clothes, so…”
I sent her my best death glare, thinking out loud as I flopped onto my bed, “Maybe he’s here to apologize,” I mumbled, “…That doesn’t mean anything.”
We’d gone over this yesterday; over Rocky Road ice cream at three in the morning after Ashton had finally ran out of tears and passed out on the couch. He must have assumed that I was with Ashton and Rachel when he called the cops, and treated them as collateral damage. Or maybe he hated all of us.
Rachel, of course, had disagreed with this theory, “Maybe he wanted you and Ashton in jail, but not me.”
“Cause you’re that special?” I’d asked sarcastically.
“Exactly,” she’d said with a satisfied smile.
“Maybe, oh, here’s a thought,” her eyes widened dramatically as she plopped down on my bed, “Maybe he didn’t do it!”
This was certainly not something I’d heard last night.
“Do you actually believe that?” I asked, genuinely interested.
“Hey, they say opposites attract. He can’t be as immoral as you are.”
I lugged the stupid halter top at her face, walking to my closet before she could say anything else to piss me off.
---
“Hey,” I said hesitantly once I’d finally inched my way to the porch. His back was to me, his hands gripping onto the porch frame as if he’d been trying to rip it off. He turned abruptly when I spoke and I had to concentrate all of my energy on trying not to throw up.
I was mentally slapping myself for the outfit I’d settled on, black leggings and an oversized sweater with a giant cat face on it. I’d decided that it would be demeaning to go downstairs wearing next to nothing, that if he decided he wanted me, it would be because he wanted me and not because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from my cleavage. All of that girl power crap had sounded so good upstairs but now all I could