Trent,” I relented, waving my hands in feigned surrender. “What do you suggest I do, then?” I asked mockingly.
“Bring Shayna back here. I’ll help you—”
“You’ll help me?” I interrupted him again. “I didn’t ask for your assistance and I don’t want it,” I spat at him.
I saw the hurt creep into his eyes just before they flared back at me in anger.
“Fine,” he said grabbing my arms roughly. “But you’ll get Shayna?”
“No.”
“No?” Trent yelled at me. “No? What the hell is wrong with you, Erin?”
“Where do I begin?” I laughed, but nothing about our fight was funny. I tried to calm myself, breathing slowly with my eyes closed. I opened them and looked at Trent, hoping he’d see me and not be disappointed with the truth. “I’m not equipped to take care of a child.”
“You’re not equipped?” Trent laughed at me harshly, like a slap to my face. “Get equipped.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” How proverbial, I thought as the most obvious words in arguments flew out of my mouth. Next thing you know, I’d tell him I never wanted to see him again.
“Because you won’t tell me,” he countered.
“Tell you what?” I demanded. “About how I was so poor, I considered it a lucky day if I found scraps of food, regardless of where it came from? About how my mother prostituted herself and me for drugs?” I saw sympathy creep into his eyes, but I didn’t want any part of it. Remember, fuck sympathy, right? So I steamrolled past that little facet of my past. “You want me to boo hoo about how my mommy was never around? Or how I never had an actual home until I left and made one here? I can’t be a mom, Trent, because I never had one.”
“So that’s it?” Trent asked, without any signs of sympathy, only anger. “After all this shit, everything you’ve been through, you’re just going to quit? No,” he answered himself. “No, damnit, you’re not. You’re gonna get your ass up and fight. You’re gonna fight like Hell until you have nothing left in you to fight.”
“I can’t do it,” I told Trent quietly.
“See, here’s the thing,” Trent said sternly, making me feel as if he were speaking down to me. “None of that matters. That little girl needs you, and it’s on you to step it up. Put all your bullshit insecurities to rest and be there for her. Nothing else matters.”
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? You with your hero worship for a mother who is nothing more than an alcoholic,” I told him, using his trust in me against him. Because that’s what people like me did. We pushed and kicked people away from us until we were nothing more than a desolate island no one wanted to visit. “Do you ever wonder when she’ll relapse again? Because she will. There’s no cure for a made up disease,” I whispered and turned away from him, not saying a word to my other friends as I got in my car and drove away.
I drove home with Metallica blaring from my speakers in the hopes that the loud music would drown out my own thoughts.
It had seemed so simple when I spoke to Camilla about adopting Shayna. But now? I knew Trent was right, Shayna was my responsibility, but that didn’t make me her best option. I was trapped; there simply wasn’t a good or right decision.
But I was her only option.
Mentally drained, I walked through my apartment and forced myself to shower the day’s residue off my body. Maybe if I could physically rid myself of the pollutants I had encountered that day, I could think a bit clearer.
Too tired to stay in the shower longer than necessary, I got out and barely dried myself before slipping into the bed and under the covers. Almost asleep, I searched through the music files on my phone until I found Kendrick Lamar’s Good Kid. My last thought before going to bed was simple: Trent was right. There was no escape. I had to take care of my little sister. She depended on me.
Chapter 19
Erin
After several frustrating
“Bring Shayna back here. I’ll help you—”
“You’ll help me?” I interrupted him again. “I didn’t ask for your assistance and I don’t want it,” I spat at him.
I saw the hurt creep into his eyes just before they flared back at me in anger.
“Fine,” he said grabbing my arms roughly. “But you’ll get Shayna?”
“No.”
“No?” Trent yelled at me. “No? What the hell is wrong with you, Erin?”
“Where do I begin?” I laughed, but nothing about our fight was funny. I tried to calm myself, breathing slowly with my eyes closed. I opened them and looked at Trent, hoping he’d see me and not be disappointed with the truth. “I’m not equipped to take care of a child.”
“You’re not equipped?” Trent laughed at me harshly, like a slap to my face. “Get equipped.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” How proverbial, I thought as the most obvious words in arguments flew out of my mouth. Next thing you know, I’d tell him I never wanted to see him again.
“Because you won’t tell me,” he countered.
“Tell you what?” I demanded. “About how I was so poor, I considered it a lucky day if I found scraps of food, regardless of where it came from? About how my mother prostituted herself and me for drugs?” I saw sympathy creep into his eyes, but I didn’t want any part of it. Remember, fuck sympathy, right? So I steamrolled past that little facet of my past. “You want me to boo hoo about how my mommy was never around? Or how I never had an actual home until I left and made one here? I can’t be a mom, Trent, because I never had one.”
“So that’s it?” Trent asked, without any signs of sympathy, only anger. “After all this shit, everything you’ve been through, you’re just going to quit? No,” he answered himself. “No, damnit, you’re not. You’re gonna get your ass up and fight. You’re gonna fight like Hell until you have nothing left in you to fight.”
“I can’t do it,” I told Trent quietly.
“See, here’s the thing,” Trent said sternly, making me feel as if he were speaking down to me. “None of that matters. That little girl needs you, and it’s on you to step it up. Put all your bullshit insecurities to rest and be there for her. Nothing else matters.”
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? You with your hero worship for a mother who is nothing more than an alcoholic,” I told him, using his trust in me against him. Because that’s what people like me did. We pushed and kicked people away from us until we were nothing more than a desolate island no one wanted to visit. “Do you ever wonder when she’ll relapse again? Because she will. There’s no cure for a made up disease,” I whispered and turned away from him, not saying a word to my other friends as I got in my car and drove away.
I drove home with Metallica blaring from my speakers in the hopes that the loud music would drown out my own thoughts.
It had seemed so simple when I spoke to Camilla about adopting Shayna. But now? I knew Trent was right, Shayna was my responsibility, but that didn’t make me her best option. I was trapped; there simply wasn’t a good or right decision.
But I was her only option.
Mentally drained, I walked through my apartment and forced myself to shower the day’s residue off my body. Maybe if I could physically rid myself of the pollutants I had encountered that day, I could think a bit clearer.
Too tired to stay in the shower longer than necessary, I got out and barely dried myself before slipping into the bed and under the covers. Almost asleep, I searched through the music files on my phone until I found Kendrick Lamar’s Good Kid. My last thought before going to bed was simple: Trent was right. There was no escape. I had to take care of my little sister. She depended on me.
Chapter 19
Erin
After several frustrating
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