Chapter 32

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Lunch was cut short. Landon's dad called. He sounded wasted on the phone. So we rushed over to Landon's parents' house. There we found Mr. Avery passed out on the front lawn in a puddle of his own drunken vomit. Thankfully, Mrs. Avery wasn't home.

"Fuck," Landon cursed when we got out of the car and rushed over to his dad.

I hated that Landon was right about his dad. Apparently, he'd barely lasted an hour before checking himself out of rehab and landing right back where he started.

Landon kneeled down and checked his dad's pulse. He was still alive. Just piss drunk. He smelled heavily of whiskey, vomit, and urine. It was so bad that I had to breathe through my mouth.

I helped Landon lift his father and carry him into the house. We sat him down in one of the chairs at the dining table. Mr. Avery looked terrible. He looked washed out and could hardly keep his bloodshot eyes open. His mouth and clothes were covered in vomit, and he had a large dark stain on his pains from when he pissed on himself.

I felt bad for Landon. He had this emotionless expression on his face like he was used to it. Used to his dad failing him. I watched him shift from the kitchen back into the dining room. He had a warm rag in his hand, which he used to clean his dad's face with.

Mr. Avery groaned. "Landon?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Mr. Avery began to sob, slurring his words. "I- I miss her. I fucked up. And now... s-she's gone."

It was obvious who he was referring to. But it was also obvious that he failed to mention missing his son. After everything he's said and done, Landon was still taking care of him. Still cleaning up his mess. It made me sick. I didn't know whether I wanted to cry or puke. Mr. Avery didn't deserve a son like Landon.

"Come on," Landon said softly. "Let's get you in the shower." He brought his blue-eyed gaze to me. "Thank you, but I can take it from here. Besides, you have to be back at work in ten minutes." He reached into his pocket and handed me his keys. "I'll come by to pick it up later."

I shook my head. I didn't want to leave him alone to deal with this by himself. The last thing he needs is to isolate himself. He may not be an alcoholic like his dad, but situations like this usually end with him indulging in booze, sex, and parties to distract himself from what he's feeling.

"I want to help you. I'll text my aunt. She'll understand."

"I got it, Harper. Seriously."

Landon helped his dad to his feet, only for him to topple over. Running his hands through his hair in frustration, he began to help him up again. Mr. Avery groaned, no help. 

So, I tried to swoop in to help. Mr. Avery tripped over himself. He ended up hitting his head and falling back into unconsciousness. Landon snapped. "I said I fucking got it, Harper!"

I backed away. There was this tight feeling in my chest. I didn't like being yelled at. "I just wanted to help," I whisper.

"You're just making things worse. So please, just go."

 I turned to leave. I understand he's upset, but I didn't deserve to be yelled at. It's not my fault his dad is a sad sack of shit. I wish Landon would stop trying to be his savior and let him deal with the problems he caused for himself on his own.

Landon shouldn't have to clean up after him just because he's his son. It's not fair. It's not fair to him, and it's really not fair to Mrs. Avery.

Upset and trying desperately not to cry, I got in Landon's car and started the engine. I waited a moment, hoping he would come rushing out to apologize and tell me he loves me.

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