Chapter 7

I am seventeen years old again when I come home at three in the morning. I try to be quiet, but I know I am probably not. I was not in school today despite the talk I had in the principal’s office last week. I mean I tried, I was in school for four continuing days afterward, but when Cece proposed to drive to her cousin’s two hours away, because he was having a house party I couldn’t say no. So eight hours later I was back home again. Carefully I kick off my shoes and throw my jacket on the floor. I turn towards the stairs, when my stomach starts growling. Right, I should probably eat something. When I head to the kitchen I don’t even try anymore to be quiet. I walk past the couch with the pink pillow and turn right. Why is the light on? “Do you know how late it is?”, I hear my Dad say before I can see him. “Jesus”, I yell and take a step back. He is sitting there on the kitchen counter with a pack of cigarettes. It’s his thing now, to keep him sober. “Were you waiting for me to come home”, I ask. He answers with a look. Ha, I didn’t think he even noticed me leaving. “Why are you doing this Libby? On a school night and skipping school again, I mean we just sat in the principals’ office”, he starts. I just ignore him and go over to the fridge. God, I hope there’s still some Pizza left. I open the fridge and one slice stares back at me. Well, good enough. I take it and start walking out of the kitchen “You’re really just going to walk away”, he yells after me. I stop in my tracks and without even turning around I say:” It’s a bit late to start parenting, don’t you think?” And I head upstairs and then there I sit with the slice of Pizza in one hand my phone in the other. Tears rolling down my face and onto my screen, but I just pretend they are not there. I scroll through the pictures of last night. I and Cece holding hands. Me Cece and Graham in the car. I and Graham making out. A lot of ugly selfies of Cece and me and of just Cece. Then a notification pops up. “Pictures you took today last year, the year before and the year before” and so on. I click on them. Last year I was drinking at Graham’s. The year before that I was on the school toilet with Cece, probably on one of our daily strolls through the school. There is one last picture from three years ago. It shows me standing next to May at our job at the icecream parlor. We look so proud in our uniforms. May is even forming a heart with her hand over the company name. God that feels like ages ago. I haven’t seen May ever since high school started. I wonder what became of her. Maybe she is a successful painter by now.