“They aren’t mine,” I repeat, with less determination to prove myself than before.
I look at Owen, who has Donna latched to his arm. She’s smirking at me, but Owen is simply staring. No emotions, nothing. I spot Devon coming out of the house and pushing himself through the crowd to see what’s happening. It's already bad enough that Owen has to witness this, please, not Devon too. It’s too late, though; besides, I’ve nowhere to run. I’m literally cornered at this point.
“They aren’t mine,” I repeat, but I’m literally defeated now. “They aren’t.”
I stare down at the pile, struggling not to cry in front of everyone. Of course, nobody believes me. I can’t necessarily blame them. I was warned in rehab that it would take time for those who love me to believe that I could actually stay sober. That I would have to work hard to prove it. I was told that they’d be expecting me to slip. I guess I’m lucky that Trish is willing to somewhat go out on a limb, to hope that I want to be sober again if I actually did relapse. That’s a plus, I suppose. Because the last time I relapsed, nobody believed I wanted to get sober.
In one last effort, I look right at Devon. He’s watching me in scrutiny, looking like he’s struggling to decide if he wants to believe me or not. “They aren’t mine.”
I want him to believe me. I want everyone to believe me, but right now, even just one person will do.
“All right.” Devon nods. “I believe you, Gracie.”
A gasp rings out, and my eyes snap to Kate, who looks hurt. After a moment, she clears her face and squares her shoulder, jutting her chin out as she steps up next to Devon. Her hand slips into his, visible for me to see and no doubt to remind me of their relationship. Or maybe it’s to remind him. I can’t tell the difference. I’m pretty sure it’s to remind both of us who Devon is with.
“If Devon believes you, Gracie, then so do I,” Kate says, giving me a tight smile.
It doesn’t reach her eyes, and I know she’s only siding with Devon to ensure he doesn’t slip away from her.
“Come on.” Devon jerks his head. “Let’s go home.”
He pulls Kate with him and doesn’t look over his shoulder as he pushes through the crowd. I turn and get on the ground, scrounging for my stuff to shove it back in my purse. I bat away the little whiskey bottles, hesitating for a moment as I stare over them. Everybody already thinks I relapsed, so taking them wouldn’t be a surprise. I could drink them, and nobody would even blink an eye at me because they all expect me to do it.
A hand on my shoulders draws my eyes up to Trish, who’s kneeling next to me.
“Sobriety isn’t easy, Gracie. It’s okay if you relapse. You just have to get back up and back to sobriety.”
I glare at her and turn, snatching the rest of my items up. I push away the little whiskey bottles and stand up, turning to face my parents. If I have to be honest, nobody else’s feelings about this entire thing matter as much as my parents do. Well, okay, what Owen and Devon think also matters. And Marcy too. Nobody else.
Still, if I have to pick anyone over the rest, my parents' opinions matter the most to me. I don’t want them to think of me as the drug addict, booze-riddled daughter they had to have been thinking I am for so long. But it’s pointless to even now. Because they aren’t even looking at me. In fact, they’re no longer even outside. They’ve gone back inside, and their absence makes my heart sink and my shoulders droop.
I turn and follow Devon and Kate out of the crowd and backyard. Nobody stops me, and it's honestly probably for the best. I don’t know if I can take it if anyone tries to talk to me right now. I haven’t even looked at Marcy, and I don’t want to. She already thinks I’m a bad friend. If she’s even slightly convinced that I’m relapsing, she’s really going to think I’m the worse person in the world, and our friendship will forever be damaged. I will never be able to get her back then.
I climb into the van as Devon revs the engine to life. He looks at his phone for a moment, and I can only guess it's Owen he’s texting. Finally, he pulls out of the driveway.
“I changed my mind,” I say and lean forward, ignoring my seatbelt. “I don’t want to go home. I want to go to the diner and see Colton.”
His eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, and I notice them crinkle, tightening around the edges at my proclamation. But he doesn’t say anything against it, and I know he’ll take me there as requested. Still, even I feel the burden in my heart. Me and Devon’s shared kiss lingers in my mind, and I’m hungry for another one, but Kate’s sitting in the passenger seat, and there’s nothing I can do about it. So, I want to be somewhere where I can be in control of something, even if it’s simply talking to Colton and figuring out our relationship. Simple things that are in my control.
Chapter24
Gracie
The hallway is eerily silent. I could swear there were nurses and a few doctors mingling about. Maybe some patients and their family members, I think. I know my family has been in and out. The arrival of the new baby has everyone in a fritz, cooing and googly eyed over her.
It’s a little annoying. I don’t mean to be grumpy, but the fact that everyone was called for this birth before sunrise has put me in a bad mood. Because it’s supposed to be my day. Everyone is supposed to pay attention to me. Instead, they’re all over the baby, in awe and worshipping her. Not a single happy birthday has been given to me.
I get the excitement, but I’m still annoyed. A girl only ever turns fourteen once in her life. Plus, it doesn’t help that it’s way past dinner time, I’ve only had vending machine chips to munch on, and nobody has given me a present. I know they exist; I saw them wrapped and piled on the dining room table before we were forced to leave this morning. They’re waiting for me, eager for me to rip open that paper and find the treasures inside.
But I’ve been stuck here all damn day.
Grumpiness doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings at this point.
Which is why I don’t really care much about the nonexistent nurses and doctors and patients and family members when I step into the hallway. I’ve needed a breather for a while now, and not having them jostling about gives me that. Everybody only cares about the mother and newborn baby right now, not the moping teenager scuttling about. Them side-eyeing me and clicking their tongues in annoyance because I get in their way by accident stings more than they realize.
I just want to avoid them all. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to leave, do something for myself. But I’m stuck.
I know mom and dad don’t mean to forget, but they have in their excitement, which hurts. I don’t say anything, though. I don’t want to come across as whiney. Especially after my sister just nearly died while giving birth. Still, I’m allowed to be a little upset about my forgotten birthday, aren’t I?