Ophelia Drowned

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was an overcast morning and winter was seeping in through the window panes. Despite my best glowers and sulking, Mom was leaving.

For a few days she had managed to disguise herself as a stay-at-home mother, wearing jeans and making us eat green beans. But now she was back in her suit and nice shoes, hunched over like a corporate gargoyle, face lit by her blackberry as she scrambled to send a few last minute notes to work associates. In mere hours she would be flying out to reclaim her status as a professional. Somebody had to pay the bills, according to her, and she couldn't afford to take any more time off.

It was bad enough that she was leaving at all but, to add insult to injury, she had decided that it was my and Ellie's obligation have dinner with Dad and the wicked step-mother.

"For us or the dog?" I asked, slouching over the kitchen table, doodling over the massive amount of paperwork that the public school system had unjustly piled onto me .

Mom smirked as she raised a brow at me.

"She likes you and your sister," she said."She wants to do the family thing. Humor her. It'll take your mind off things."

"I have homework," I pointed out. "Can't I just stay here?"

"No."

"They make us play board games."

"You'll live."

She sounded certain but I wasn't convinced. I had put the finishing touches of a badly drawn dragon, curled around my chemistry homework, when my phone buzzed to life on the table by my hand. I picked it up and checked the sender. Hex. Maybe he would be decent enough to spare me an evening of tofu and scrabble.

"Hello?" I asked, pressing the phone to my ear.

"I'm outside." His voice was blunt.

I stood up from the table to wander to the window. Sure enough he was standing at the end of the driveway with his bike leaned against our mailbox.

"So you are," I agreed. He was wearing that same torn up jacket again and waving while a combination of ice and rain drizzled around him. After a moment I remembered those manners my parents had so desperately tried teach me and asked, "Would you like to be inside?"

I grimaced even as the words came out of my mouth. Could I have sounded any less inviting? To be fair, his tendency for showing up unannounced was bordering a stalker level.

"Nah," he told me. He seemed completely (or at least politely) oblivious to my lack of social grace. "Are you busy? I'm going to the pawn shop in your neighborhood and I thought you might want to get out of the house or something."

"The pawn shop?" I asked, incredulously. "You sure know how to treat a girl."

Through the window I saw him shrug. Over the phone all I could hear was the static patter of rain and wind.

Awkward pause. I gave in. All I could do at home was blatantly guilt my mother for abandoning me and, to be honest, even I was getting a little bored with that. "I'll be out in a minute."

I hung up and turned to find Mom hovering behind me, looking through the window as well. A seriously black cup of coffee was clutched in her fingers, waving steam off of its bleak surface. When it came to coffee, my mom didn't mess around. Her preferred brew strength was tar.

"If you're going out you had better dress for it," she reminded me. Ignoring the face I was making at her cup. "Be at your dad's house by six."

I gave her an obligatory half-hug and grudging goodbye, which had become routine for these occasions. She helped me zipper a big white coat over my injured arm and I walked out of the house looking more abominable snowman than girl. The air was cold, worse than cold, because it was also wet. In a weird way, despite the fact that my lips were turning blue already, I liked this weather. It was the perfect weather for tragedy.