“Shit.”

I haven’t had such a sleepless night in years. It’s caused me to be over an hour late this morning, and I’m not happy about it. For the past few years I’ve been on point, responsible. Working for Mrs. Donnabora helped me to focus on other things besides the rape. She really needed me, and she let me know that she did. She didn’t scream at me, or order me around like Justin does. It was really healthy for me to be around her then, I think. I don’t know how else I would have reestablished myself in society otherwise. Sometimes I think about how much I miss her. I wish I could have her back, that she wouldn’t have died. Sometimes I even get a little angry at her for getting old and dying, as if she could have prevented it or something.

I guess I haven’t realized just how lonely I’ve been without her for all this time. The woman really was like a mother to me, somebody who cared and didn’t criticize me all the time. She was the warm kind heart that I never had growing up. My grandmother had been a very strict, stern woman. She didn’t believe in hugs and kisses, just hard work and discipline. I guess she figured it would help me grown into a strong, independent woman. I can’t lie, for awhile I was pretty independent…confident. I didn’t let anything get in the way of my goals. Often, she’d tell me that I reminded her of my own mother when she was my age. I didn’t really see it then, but I guess I just didn’t want to. For a lot of reasons, I’ve always sort of resented my mother for the decisions she made about how she wanted to live her life. But it’s not like I could have told her what to do anyway.

When I was born, my father left her high and dry. She didn’t have a job, and she was still in college. I guess he was some kind of law student, and promised her that he was going to be around to take care of us. He held good to his promise too, until I was born. I guess the sound of a crying baby just didn’t float too well on top of term papers and the pretty girl that sat next to him in his classes. My mom said he married her. I for one couldn’t give a shit what he did or what he’s doing now. I doubt he even thinks about the fact that he has another daughter somewhere. He’s probably sitting happily in his big house with his twelve cars and two kids with their golden retriever. He doesn’t care that I was forced to grow up without a real family. That my mother was usually too busy doting on her career to remember something as simple as my birthday.

I’m all right about it.

My mother, the famous photographer. I have to laugh a little as I push Justin’s back door open. When I was three my mother couldn’t handle the bills on her own anymore and moved us to Michigan to live with my grandmother. She waited tables at night so she could be with me in the daytime. I was fine about it. I guess I was really too young to understand how much she struggled to support me and keep her mother quiet about the fact that she was stupid enough to get pregnant at the same time. For two years she worked a crappy night shift, making mediocre wages at a run down diner near the edge of town. I can remember her telling me she was saving up money so we could get a place of our own again, and how she was going to call daddy after that and try to get him to come see us. I can’t really remember everything that clearly, after all…I was three. But I can remember that I loved her then. I was sure that it would always be mommy and me, and I didn’t need to worry about mean granny that smelled like moth balls so much.

In the fall of ‘89 I started kindergarten. By this time I was five my mother had saved a sizeable amount of money, since my grandmother didn’t make her help with the bills. I remember being pretty smart for my age. I used to tell her I knew we were rich then…that we were going to go live in the deluxe apartment building on the other side of town. The one with the big pool and playground. Of course she would always laugh and tell me that we were going to…

And I really believed her. With my whole heart, I did.

She left that spring to attend some special photography school in New York City. Apparently she’d saved up enough to pay for half the tuition, and she’d received a loan for the rest. It was a major blow to me. It was like…one minute she was there smiling and telling me that she loved me, and the next she was kissing me goodbye, telling me to be a good girl for Grandma Mary. To say I was traumatized after that was an understatement. Of course I didn’t really let it show. I’d never had a father so I knew what it was like to have a semi normal sort of family. I had my grandmother, despite the fact that she didn’t seem too thrilled to be shafted with a five year old at that stage of her life. I tended to stay out of her way most of the time…holed up in a room with my coloring books and toys.

And I saw my mother…I did. Shed come home every few months, when classes were in recession, sharing her stories of college life and boyfriends over the phone with her friends from school. I used to stand in the archway separating the hallway from the her bedroom and listen to her talk. I desperately wanted to be like her then. New York had changed her. She seemed to get younger and more beautiful every time she’d come home from school. She was full of life…she was so cool. A world away from the cupcake baking, soccer game watching moms that my classmates had. I tried as hard as I could to make my presence known when she was at home. Anytime she wasn’t on the phone, or reading her books, or playing with her camera equipment I’d run to her side and beg her to tell me stories about her life. She seemed flattered that I was so interested, but at the same time she seemed so wrapped up in what she had to do that I was more of a nuisance than anything. Sometimes she’d toss me a lipstick out of her purse and tell me to put it on. That made me excited until I was about ten. Then I realized that she really didn’t want to take the time to raise me at all. If anything, I was more like a bratty little sister that constantly nagged her…not her daughter.

When I was eleven she stopped coming to visit, except for Thanksgiving and Christmas. By that time I’m surprised I wasn’t referring to my grandmother as mommy anyway, but I doubt she would have allowed that. I was, as my grandmother intended, a self reliant middle school girl. I cooked, I cleaned, I took myself to and from school. I applied myself to nothing else besides my studies and the few friends I did have. By the time I hit high school, the thought of my mothers glamorous lifestyle was basically a faded memory. She called now. She didn’t visit. And I didn’t care. I’d been accepted into the popular crowd at school. I was in all the advanced placement classes, and every good looking guy in school was fighting for my attention. I was successful in everything I tried to do, and I realized early on that I didn’t need anybody to help me achieve what I wanted out of life, especially my mother.

I was accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in Michigan. There, I was finally able to break away from my grandmother and her expectations of me. It was in my freshman year that I really started to discover who I was, and what I wanted to do. Just like high school, I was socially accepted, and I excelled in my classes. Three years into my college experience, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and I had a surefire plan on how I was going to get there. I remember a few days before the beginning of finals, my friend Jenna and I went to a party at one of the fraternities across campus. A lot of the people we usually hung around with were going to be there, and Jenna being the man magnet she was, had her heart set on winning some good looking jock’s heart.

I don’t remember when we separated. I just know that it was later, Jenna snagged her man, and I broke off to sit down and have a drink. Then I had to go to the bathroom. I probably could have just left then, and gone to my friends dorm room since I was tired anyway and wanted to crash. I don’t know…I guess I was just lazy or something. Or maybe I just really had to pee. I went to the bathroom in the frat house. It should have been safe. Nothing bad ever happened at those parties, because everybody knew each other. I remember peeing. I remember washing my hands. And then I remember something hitting me, hard, on the back of the head.

When I woke up, I was on the floor. At first I didn’t know where I was, but when I looked up…it came rushing back to me in about two seconds. I went to the bathroom…something hit me… Now there was a strange man on top of me, ripping my blouse open. I wanted to scream, I tried to scream…but he just held his hand over my mouth and pulled a knife out of his back pocket. I remember the light hitting the blade and it sort of glinted magically right before he stuck it next to my throat. “Please don’t scream.” His voice had been calm. Eerily calm. “I just can’t have you doing that.”

He’d been really skinny. Really pale. The cheek bones jutted out of his face like they could poke holes through his skin at any moment. He had the saddest brown eyes I’d ever seen…sunken in, dark circles around them. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot red. I remember the phrase ‘he’s on something’ repeating it self in my mind over and over. I breathed hard, I tried not to whimper…and he took his hand away. Then I just laid there while he smiled and stripped my clothes off in the bathroom stall. The whole time I listened for the sound of the door being opened…but it never did. The music from the party was still raging on, and I knew then that nobody was coming…nobody cared. He had his way with me then…stripping off his own clothes and forcing himself inside of me like I was some kind of animal. I don’t even know how long it lasted, or how long I laid there after he’d gone. I just know that I was cold…the floor was cold, my head was spinning. I couldn’t move, breathe…call out for help. I couldn’t let anybody know what happened.

Somehow I managed to pull my clothes back on. I wasn’t thinking about my friends…how worried they’d be about me when they couldn’t find me, I just ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could away from that god forsaken bathroom stall. I bolted myself inside my dorm. I shoved my dresser in front of the door and sat, huddled, in my bed. I was terrified he’d come back. And I just…I just knew I couldn’t tell anybody about what happened. It was dirty and disgusting. I couldn’t help thinking about the fact that I’d just lay there…and let it happen without trying to defend myself. I blamed myself after that. I was stupid. Stupid for being lame enough to let somebody do that to me. And slowly, I shut everything and everybody out until there was nobody left. My friends couldn’t understand, and they didn’t have time to. My teachers had too many students to notice the fact that I was slipping. I failed all of my finals that year. I didn’t care. I had no heart left to care.

The dean pulled me into her office before move out day that year to discuss my grades. I’d taken a few pills from my roomates stash that morning so I could try to wake up, but the look on the dean’s face when I sat down in front of her, told me that she knew I was on something. She told me that she didn’t understand why an outstanding student like myself would have failed all of her finals. She wanted to know if something had happened to me, and if so she wanted to help. I’d just stared at her, because I knew I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t be embarrassed like that. So I just told her I hadn’t applied myself like I should have, and I would have to take a few classes over the following year.

She didn’t believe me. She called my mother.

My mother who hadn’t been involved in my life really, since I’d started high school. I didn’t really know much about what was happening in her life, besides the fact that she’d gained a name for herself doing her photography work and had reached the point where she was traveling the world taking pictures of famous people for magazines. It was a bitter meeting when she flew out to the dorms. She’d been pulled away from her work, and I had no desire to talk to her.

“Well?”

I’d changed the station on the television.

“Melanie, would you fucking look at me please? I had to rearrange my whole schedule to fly out here for your emotional problems. I tried to have grandma come but she told me that she was done sacrificing herself for my mistakes. So I’m here.” She’d dropped her hands at her sides and let out a disgusted sigh. “Now what the hell is this about you failing your final exams?”

I wouldn’t look at her. I think at that point I was more interested in watching Britney Spears shake her ass in front of the camera in her latest music video. “It happens.”

“Well that’s not what the dean said. She said you’ve been a star student since the moment you stepped through the doors. She seems worried, she says you’re not acting like yourself.”

I laughed at her. It had been years since she’d even bothered to ask me how I was, what I was doing, or what my plans were. She was there because she had to be, so her mother wouldn’t be angry with her, and that was all. “Look Georgia, I have my problems, and you have yours. You haven’t worried about me for years, so you don’t have to stand here and act like you’re worried now. I’ll be fine, just like I’ve always been.”

“Look, don’t act like I’m a horrible person okay? I never…I didn’t plan on having a kid when I had you. I…I had no business having one. I needed to better myself, and you…you did just fine with grandma. I know you did.”

I don’t know why, but I started to cry then. Normally, crying wasn’t something I ever did. But I hadn’t cried when the rape happened, and I hadn’t cried since. I guess it was just time to let some of the pain out. My mother’s presence had pushed me to the brink. It was just making me so angry that she was there, pretending to care…trying to act like she’d only left me because she’d had to. It was bullshit…all of it. And I wasn’t’ prepared to take all of that on at once.

“You look half dead.”

“What the…” I look up, interrupted out of my memories by his voice. Justin is standing next to the microwave, chewing on an apple. He has a small, almost cute smirk resting on his face as he chews…like a mischievous little boy. It makes me want to smack the hell out of him and tell him to go get dressed. But after surveying him for a moment, I realize I don’t have to tell him to. He’s done it already…quite well I might add. He’s wearing a simple royal blue polo shirt with jeans and black checkered sneakers. I notice that he’s shaved, and combed down his usual mess of light brownish hair. He looks…good, as much as I hate to view him that way. Maybe not good as in “hot”, but good as in presentable…yeah, that’s it. Even though his eyes…his eyes are nice…

Oh god, I need to go back to bed.

“Just saying.” He takes another big bite of the apple before throwing it into the trash, half eaten. “You’re late, I almost had a heart attack.”

My mouth hangs open as he crosses the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “You did? I’m really sorry Justin, I didn’t mean…”

“I meant I was shocked, not freaking out.” He’s laughing. Fucking opening the new carton of milk even though theres a half empty one in the fridge still, and laughing at me. “I was a big boy,” he finally says. “I took care of myself today.”

I scowl. “Looks like even rejects of society can make miracles happen,” I grunt, and swing open a cabinet, searching for the box of oatmeal.

“What’s up your ass,” he chuckles. I feel him behind me for a moment, and it makes my skin crawl a little bit. “You were the one that was all about going out this morning.” I hear the scraping of the chair being pulled out from under the table. “So I’m ready.”

When did the tables turn? When did this asshole become Mr. Happy to Comply? There’s something wrong with him, yeah…definently chemically imbalanced. Maybe he took too many happy pills. Shit, but that’s bad. “Justin, how many pills did you take today? Don’t tell me you’re all doped up because of this trip today.”

“I didn’t take any pills today.” He looks at me long and hard for a few moments, as if he’s searching for something. I don’t get it, and I’m nauseated enough as it is without being analyzed by him right now. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re way too high strung?” He guzzles his milk.

What? Oh no, I’m not tolerating this. He can’t treat me like shit for all this time, and then act like he’s perfectly fine one day out of the year. He can’t act like I’m the one with the problem. I’m not the one with the problem. He‘s the mental case. My mother didn’t hire somebody to come live with me, his did. “You’re not making any sense,” I snap. “This isn’t how you are. You’re never this upbeat. Stop acting like a moron.”

The brightness fades from his eyes. “I’m a moron because I woke up in a good mood?”

I’m confusing him. God…why did I have to be up all night thinking about my past? Why could I have just forgotten about it like always and gone to bed? I’ve never had an issue shutting it out before. It’s all his fault. It’s his fault because…because his situation is so similar to mine. It’s been a long time since I’ve remembered it all in such great detail. It’s fucking me up. I should call Susan at the home but…no, now isn’t the time for all of that. “No…god…” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I woke up late. My body is all out of synch. Don’t worry about it, you’re fine.”

He shoots me another confused glance, but then the doorbell rings and I know its going to be Eric. There’s no time to talk now, because I know I need to be presentable for this guy. I know anything that happens in front of him, is going to get reported right back to Lynn and I really don’t need her calling me up to ask me if I have some kind of issue, or if Justin is slipping. I need to show him I have things under control, and that Justin is doing okay. If I can do that, then I think everything will be just fine.

Unless of course, Justin decides to become an asshole again, which is more than likely.

“That’s going to be Eric,” I tell him quickly, as the doorbell rings a second time.

He’s not so cocky this time. “I know.”

“You’re okay?” I don’t know why I’m concerned.

He shrugs. “Does it really matter, Mel?”

“Yeah.” I say, slightly annoyed. “You know I care.”

“Look.” He leans back in the chair and rubs his face for a few seconds. “If he pulls you off to the side and tries to ask you shit about me, just play along. Don‘t let him know that anything happened. Just tell him I‘ve been taking my meds and that I‘ve been okay for the most part.”

Frankly, I never thought Justin would have been as prepared as he seems to be for Eric’s visit. From what I can tell he planned everything out, to cover his ass. He’s ready to be charming, pleasing…and as psycho free as possible. It makes me cringe to know that he’s this good at faking it, because I know I used to be able to pull the same act off myself. Hell, I still can. As we speak, I’m pulling it off so he’ll be none the wiser about the mess that I really am behind closed doors. “You planned this all out,” I scoff. “Didn’t you?”

He flashes me another rare grin. “Didn’t sleep a wink.”

Justin gets up to answer the door, and I mutter “That makes two of us,” under my breath. He doesn’t acknowledge me though, and I guess its better that way. I can’t have him asking me questions. But I mean, who knows if he’d even care enough to ask anyway? No, I need to stop pretending that I can magically bond with Justin because of what I’ve been through. He doesn’t care about me, or anybody else. He cares about himself, and that alone is a great reason for me to dislike him as much as I do.

“Hey man!”

I really don’t want to look over, but something inside of me makes me do it. Justin is embracing a large black man now, who looks like he might have played half back for the 49ers at some point in his life. He also looks like he could kill somebody instantly by sitting on them good at hard While this is comforting…while I know nobody would dare to mess with Justin while he‘s around, I still get the feeling that his protection wont be enough to ease Justin‘s paranoia today. I’m pretty sure Justin hasn’t been out of the house much at all since his kidnapping, and never to such a busy place like a chain retail store. I suddenly wonder if my tough love theory was the best thing to spring on Justin this week. Maybe…maybe I was just annoyed. Maybe I didn’t think. Maybe I should just cancel this whole thing.

The two men separate then, and that’s when I see it. The fakest expression of happiness that I’ve ever seen on Justin’s face. You’d think he was the Life cereal kid, like his face is going to crack open in a second because he’s smiling too hard. I feel like I’m going to vomit.

“Eric meet Mel…Melanie.” Justin corrects himself quickly as he leads Eric my way. Weirdo. You can’t call me by a short nick name in front of people either?

“Melanie.” Eric smiles warmly and it seems out of place on his large head. “Lynn told me you were the woman to hire if you’re in a bind.” He laughs a little nervously, as he shakes my hand.

“Well, yeah,” I send him a smile that could have competed with the one Justin gave him a moment ago. “I’m not too bad at dusting.”

This greeting would have been fine…said and done and we could have been on our way. But no…no, because now Justin has thrown his arm around my shoulder and starts to laugh like some infomercial host. “Isn’t she a riot?”

I’m waiting for him to say ’but wait! There’s more!’

Eric slightly narrows his eyes at me, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. Justin is a bullshit artist. I can see why Justin is worried about the guy pulling me aside, because he knows Eric can probably see right through his act. Fuck, I think anybody could though.

“Well I ate,” Eric tells us. “And if you two are ready to go I can just call ahead and let them know we’re on our way down.”

Personally, I’d love to get a move on. The less time I have to stand here awkwardly while Justin cracks his face apart, the better. But of course Justin, wanting to prove that he is in no way a psycho, has to ruin the perfect opportunity to start the day off. “Nah, just chill for a minute. I have to change my shirt I think.”

“You all right man?,” Eric chuckles as Justin turns toward the stairs. “You seem pretty wired. I don’t know if you should be goin’ out like this.”

For the smallest fragment of a second, Justin steals a glance of desperation my way. But I guess I’m so annoyed with him at the moment, that I don’t feel like making up an excuse for him. I clear my throat annoyingly and focus my attention on spot on the ceiling.

“I’m fine,” Justin laughs again. “I just don’t think I want to go to Best Buy in this shirt. The color…they’ll think I wanna work there or something.”

That is the lamest thing I’ve ever heard, but it’s enough to get Eric to laugh and tell him he’ll be waiting for us in the car. The large man exits, and Justin doesn’t wait for me to yell at him for acting like such a moron. He books up the stairs, probably thinking I’m not going to follow him.

It’s sad that he would think that.

I burst into his room a minute later. Thankfully, he’s not undressing. He’s leaning over, palms flat against the top of the dresser, his legs astride. I don’t think he’s crying, he’s just staring. He knows I’m here too, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably because he knows how stupid he’s being this morning.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Somebody has to be the serious one today.

He takes a deep breath and straightens himself. “I’m fine.” He walks back over to his bed and tugs a red hoodie into his arms. He pulls it over his head, then slips pair of shades out of the front pocket and over his eyes.

I cross my arms and step in his path when he tries to get away from my confrontation. “You think Eric isn’t going to notice that you’ve gone from psycho depressed to an egotistical pop star?”

He shakes his head as he twists his lips into a disgruntled smirk. “I haven’t seen him since I got back from Florida, Mel. He doesn’t know what I’ve been like, okay?”

He reaches out, about to reassure me with a pat on the shoulder but I jerk away and glare at him. “It’s one thing to lie about how well or bad you’ve been doing. It’s another thing to act like a completely different and fake person. Justin, I don’t like this! It’s not healthy. If…if I had known you’d do this I wouldn’t have called Eric in the first place.”

“Yeah, well you did,” he mutters, and rips his sunglasses off of his face.

The whites of his eyes have turned red and watery now. He’s understandably scared out of his mind. It’s probably my fault too, but as much as I want to break down and tell him he doesn’t have to do anything he’s uncomfortable with, I know it’s not going to help him get better. Justin needs to face his fears…

I know what happens when you don’t.

His serious expression softens, and suddenly, he does something I never thought I’d see him do…or something I’d allow him to do. “Just bear with me,” he pleads, stepping up to me and placing a hand on each of my shoulders. He stares deep into my eyes. I don’t want to stare back, because I know the power that lies within those metallic blues of his. They’re convincing, like a con artist‘s. I don’t know how many people he’s be en able to sway with the power of those things, but I’m sure it’s more than I have time to count. “Come on Mel,” he says softly. “I’m doing what you asked. I’m going out.”

Shockingly enough, I don’t pull away from him. I continue to stare up at him, searching his eyes for the real Justin. The one that I’m sure I don’t know yet…the one I don’t think I’ll really ever get to know. “I knew today would be hard for you, but I didn’t want you to have to put all of your energy into being fake. I…I really want you to try and enjoy today as much as possible.”

He doesn’t seem to know what to do after I say that. He steps back, and just sort of stares at me. There’s no real expression on his face either. It’s like, he’s too confused to know how to react. I guess he’s been alone for so long that he doesn’t know how to comprehend it when somebody he doesn’t know all that well sort of cares about what happens to him. I guess it’s a learning experience. But I’m not so sure if I’m the right one to be teaching this stuff to him. It should probably be his shrink, or a friend or family member. Hell…I don’t know. He isn’t telling me to leave or that I’m making things uncomfortable for him. Maybe I need to just go with it. I mean…he is, even if he has to be fake at times to do it.

“I will,” he nods. “It’s just, what Eric and my mother don’t know can’t hurt them. And…you know, it--it cant’ hurt you either. You know, me being happy looks good on your part too.”

“Oh please,” I mutter, knowing he has sort of a valid point, but not wanting to encourage his fake mood. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you it’s okay to act like somebody you’re not. I mean, how am I supposed to know if you’re being fake with me?”

His eyes widen a little. “Well I…”

“Yeah,” I snap. “Never thought of it that way did you?”

“Mel, I can’t have people thinking that I need to be dragged back to Tennessee.”

This is yet another thing that confuses me about Justin: his absolute loathing of going back to his home town. I mean, he grew up there and he wants absolutely nothing to do with it anymore. “What’s the big deal?” I’m out of line but I don’t care right now. He brought it up so I think I have every right to challenge him about the subject.

He chews the bottom corner of his lip for a minute, not saying anything, barely looking at me. I’ve struck a cord, but I think we’ve reached a point now where he needs to start being more open with me. After the other night, there’s not really much else he needs to hide from me. “I just…”

Beep beep beeeeep!

“Eric,” I nod.

“Yeah.” He laughs nervously. “We better just go.”

I still don’t clear a path for him. “You think you can just run away from me when things get too hard to talk about? Look Justin, I may not know you all that well…but you’re stuck with me. I don’t know for how long, but for right now this is how things are. Now, if you really want to push me out and be alone that’s your choice. But don’t expect to call me up crying when your mom tries to put you on the next plane back home. I’m not looking back once I’m gone…understand?”

“I…” He sighs and looks at the floor. “Okay, later…later on I’ll explain more.”

“Hmmph.” I roll my eyes. “Let’s just go.”

“I promise.” He looks me directly in the eyes. “Melanie…”

I don’t want him to break down right now, because its bad enough that Eric suspects Justin’s happy act as being fake and if he goes to the car in a mood Eric will be making an unwanted phone call to Lynn later on. “Okay,” I reassure him. “Later.”

I finally clear a path for him, and he shoots me a thankful smile before exiting the bedroom. I take a moment to glance around before I follow him out the door. In case Eric should want to come up here, I don’t need him finding anything suspicious lying around. I don’t find anything out of the ordinary though, and I know that’s a positive thing. I go into the bathroom next, knowing that I really need to get downstairs, but also knowing that I need to make sure there isn’t anything lying around that could pose a threat to Justin. Surprisingly enough, its basically clean. Sure there’s a wet towel or two lying on the floor…toothpaste lying on the sink without the cap on it. But that’s to be expected. Not everybody can be as neat as me, and men are known to be slobs.

The medicine cabinet is hanging half open, and I reach out to close the door. Before I can close it all the way though, I notice Justin’s medication bottles sitting on the shelves in plain view…empty. Normally I wouldn’t care, but the fact that I just got them refilled the other day causes an alarm to go off inside of me. There’s no way he could have taken all those medications without having some serious side effects. So then where the hell did it all go? I turn around. I look in the toilet. There is a single pill floating around in the water. Is he fucking kidding? Did he honestly think that I wouldn’t check? That I wouldn’t notice? I swear to god…I should call Lynn right now…

I feel fucking sick to my stomach. Why did I have to look?

Wait.

I looked because its what he expects me not to do. He’s starting to think that I trust him too much to worry about little shit like this. Well, he’s mistaken. No, I wont call Lynn right now, but I’m going to let him know. I’m going to tell him that I know what’s going on and he’s an asshole if he thinks I’m going to stand for it.

“Mel! What are you doing? Eric’s waiting!”

I slap the medicine cabinet closed. I’m furious at him right now, but I know I need to calm down. I can’t confront him about this in the car, or act like there’s something wrong. I can’t let Eric get suspicious. I pretty much promised Justin I’d give him the benefit of the doubt until tonight, so that’s what I’m going to do.

“Melanie!”

I quickly run downstairs before he can come up and ask me what I’m doing in his room. He gives me a look as if to say “what the hell?”. But I just shrug and motion for him to follow me. We get into the car and while I feel uneasy, Justin doesn’t bring up the fact that I took forever. Actually, he and Eric get into a conversation as to what’s going to happen once we get to Best Buy. The memory of the house is easily forgotten by the both of them. But not by me. I’m still pissed off really pissed off about the pills, but I know its going to have to wait until later. Right now, Justin has a lot more to worry about than what I think.

I just hope I don’t end up screaming at him before this lovely trip comes to an end.

Unpredictable