Abby

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

It was December twenty-third. Eleven-thirty at night. She lay awake, curled up with Jace who was out cold. And it hit her like a ton of bricks. She wasn't going to her aunt's house. She could pretend that she was. She could plan for it. Even wear the new sweater her mother had bought her after she refused to buy a dress. But she knew she wasn't going to go. The reality kept her up. She sat on the edge of the bed and lit up a joint. She stared at the moon through the window while she went through the Nutcracker choreography in her head. She still knew it. She'd had a solo last year. She still remembered that, too. She hadn't been given the honor this year. The director having seen her downfall coming all along, probably. She wished she'd just been kicked off the team back in September. She opened her phone to the video Sean had sent her of the band playing the piece they had written together. The one she'd dumbed down for their new bassist. Usually, she was more than thrilled to share her passion and help others progress. Right now, though, she just wanted to mock him. She listened to it once for overall enjoyment. Another to enjoy Sean's vocals, smooth as satin. A third to enjoy his guitar solo. A fourth to pick out the drum line. And now she listened to it a fifth time to rip apart the bassist. Jace stirred, and she hardly noticed. Her bad attitude turned into anger. He hadn't done a horrible job. Sure, he'd fucked up a dozen times easy, and his slaps weren't loud enough – which was actually good because they weren't quick enough, either – but it didn't take away from the song. There was still a solid baseline that blended with the band. She went to the kitchen, still naked, and chugged the whiskey straight from the handle. It burned going down, but she hardly noticed. The buzz kicked in, and she took a deep breath to relax. It was Christmas Eve by the time she fell into bed.

...

"He hasn't heard from her all day." Jason said, having just spoke with Aaron as he was getting ready for the Christmas Eve party.

"She promised me." Jennie said, the anger gaining traction over the hurt. Jason didn't say anything. His daughter was a selfish bitch. Nothing more, nothing less. Jason walked back out of the room. He just couldn't take the tears right now.

"Dad." Aaron called out as he walked by his room. Jason stopped mid-step.

"Yeah." He called back.

"I'll take care of mom this time." He said. They both thought back to Thanksgiving. Jason continued on his way.

...

Jace's mother watched Abby walk over to the piano. Her hair hung down, loose and free, ringlets formed at the ends where it needed to be cut. She wore a white sweater, it looked new. It was cable knit and fell just to her hips. She wore jeans, probably curve hugging at one point. She'd ditched her shoes for stocking feet. They were Christmas stockings with Santa hat wearing penguins on them. Abby wiped her finger across the top of the piano cover. A layer of dust. No one played. Which meant it was probably out of tune. She rolled the top back and sat down in front of it. If the tune was wack, she could just switch keys. The party was raging in the next couple rooms, but she was desperately trying to stay away from the alcohol. Jace was trying the apple cider whiskey and rum eggnog drinks. His kisses tasted like alcohol, and so she'd snuck out. She danced across the keys, feeling for pressure and stickiness. When she had finished assessing the situation, she was ready. She played softly, playing for herself and for tradition. For her grandmother. She closed her eyes and sang along, a rare occurrence for Abby.

...

"Dude, how's it you're shit faced and pocketing laced joints, when your girl's fresh out of rehab?" Jace knew there'd be a comment from someone.

"How's it you always have something to say when it's none of your fucking business." Jace fired back.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking." He countered.