Only With You

07 | black hole

* * *

I wait on the side of the road by the gas station for Dad to pick me up, leaning my palms back on the damp grass. It's taken more time for my tears to dry than it has for this side of Earth to rotate away from the Sun's gaze, and now stars emerge through the lilac twilight above my head.

How the hell didn't I see this coming? This is what Trudy does. I'm such an idiot.

Truth is, I'm not even hurt or surprised, just disappointed in myself. Trudy was able to weasel into my life last time just like this. Acting like she cares, then she's gone with the wind.

Wiping my eyes with my bare wrists, I check my phone.

Luna: You called your dad??? What'd he say?

Me: Just that he's on his way. So he's prob pissed

Luna: Yikes :| offer still stands, I'll pay for your cab home if you need

Me: No, don't worry. Save your cash so we can still go out later. I need to get drunk after this. I'll deal with my dad.

Luna: Okay babe. We're getting wasted tonight no matter what. Fuck Trudy!!!

And that's the only thing that makes me feel better. In a few hours I'll be at a bar, buzzing to good music, drinking until I'm happy as fuck. Yeah, that sounds nice.

But the darker the sky gets, the more regret curdles inside me. Facing Dad after I screwed up is never easy. I can already feel his judgements.

When his pine green hatchback appears up the road, my chest tightens. I take a deep breath and stand. Dust sprays from beneath the wheels as he parks so fast the car jerks forward. Even the way he rolls down the window is pissed.

Shit.

Dad sits behind the wheel, and the moonlight gleams off his glasses. His dull brown hair is unkempt, his blue eyes are tired, and he forgot to change out of his checkered pajama shirt before he left the house. "Aria. Get in."

I do.

Textbooks and folders of his students' coursework are piled into the backseat. Silence and the familiar, papery smell of Dad's car engulf me. As soon as my door shuts, he starts driving. I sink into the plush seat. Every short, irate breath he makes, every erratic motion of the car, tells me he is fuming.

"For Christ's sake, Aria," he eventually says. "I keep waiting for you to grow up, but it feels like nothing ever changes. I can smell the alcohol on you. You could've stayed for dinner last night, but instead you went to the bars again, didn't you?"

My nails dig into my palms. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because it impairs your judgement. I told you not to trust your mother. I told you to stay away."

"She wasn't going to stop coming around. I didn't know what else to do."

"You should know better than this by now."

"She's fucked you over before too, Dad."

"Yes, she has, but I learned. How many times have you let her in? Even after you promised you never would again?"

I can't believe him. Okay, I can. Because he always blames me. "Why are you so mad? She stole from me!"

"Because I thought you were smarter than this!"

I clench my teeth so hard my gums hurt. Anger coagulates in my veins, hot and bubbling. "It has nothing to do with being smart. She's my mother. I wanted—I don't know what I wanted. But you're in no place to judge me for giving her a chance—you're the one who knocked her ass up in the first place."