I hop off the bed and go to my bathroom, opening the lipstick once more and applying it to my lips, careful to keep my hand steady. When I’m finished, I take a step back, staring at myself in my gray sweats, my hair in a sloppy bun on top of my head, and my lips painted a bright crimson.
With the right outfit and makeup, I think I’d look pretty.
Like I’m all grown up.
* * *
It’sat dinnertime when my father finally hands over my phone, his expression grave as he gives me a lecture about responsibility and doing the right thing.
I just keep my head bowed and nod occasionally, enduring the speech I’ve heard so many times over the years. My mother interjects every once in a while trying to defend me, as if that’s going to get him to stop.
It doesn’t, but I appreciate her support.
“Do I still have to stay home?” I ask when he’s finished speaking. “Or can I go out?”
“Who do you want to go out with?”
Do I even need to say?
I shrug one shoulder. “Friends.”
“Anyone specific?”
“Harvey,” Mom snaps. “Leave her alone. Yes, darling, you’re allowed to go out. I’m sure you have plenty of friends to see and catch up with.”
Daddy sighs heavily. “Fine. You may go out, Pumpkin. Not too late though.”
If I could roll my eyes without consequences, I would. But I keep myself under control. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Thank your mother. She’s the one who convinced me I need to give you more freedom,” Daddy mutters.
I glance up to find her watching me and I mouth a silent thanks. I’m so glad she’s an ally. I can’t remember the last time she’s been on my side.
We eat dinner, my parents talking while I stare at my phone, wondering what mysteries it might contain. Who’s texted me? According to my father, I know Crew has. How many times, and what did he say? Does he still want to see me? He must want to, considering what he said in that note.
My lips are still stained with that lipstick. Talk about long lasting. Daddy either didn’t notice or didn’t want to acknowledge it, and neither did Mom, but I’m sure they can tell I’m wearing lipstick, something I never do.
There are a lot of things I haven’t done until lately.
Most of them thanks to Crew.
Once dinner is finished, I escape to my room, wanting to be in there for the first time since I came home. I immediately see a string of texts from Crew, most of them asking how I am. Where I am. Why I won’t talk to him. And if I’m ignoring him on purpose or if my dad took my phone away.
I’m sure that text made my father burn with anger.
I also have texts from Maggie and I read them, hating that I missed them.
Maggie: I saw Fig got arrested. I had everything to do with that, and while I regret everything that happened, I don’t regret that. I’m sorry if I treated you badly. I was going through a lot and I know I snapped at you that one time when you walked in on us. I was just jealous. Our relationship was so toxic. I’m glad to be away from him. I hope you understand. Maybe we can get together over break?
She sent another text the next day.
Maggie: Or maybe not. I hope you’re not mad at me.
Before I respond to Crew, I send a text to Maggie, wanting her to know what happened. I explain how my father took my phone away and how scared and worried I’ve been for her. And that I’m glad she’s doing okay. I don’t bring up the baby, or the arrest that I witnessed. When she’s ready to talk about all of it, I know she’ll tell me.
Me: I miss you, Mags. Let’s definitely try and get together over break. And I’m sorry I didn’t respond sooner. Just know I’m here for you no matter what.
She responds almost immediately.