Lights (2013)

28

I drag myself down the stairs to breakfast the next morning, feeling the effects of the small amount of alcohol I consumed. I should really stop drinking. It's obvious I don't cope very well. I feel dizzy and nauseous, and I flat out just don’t feel myself. 

"Good morning, Blair," Jay greets me from the kitchen table. She wears her robe wrapped tightly around her and holds a mug of coffee in one hand, the newspaper in the other. "How was your night?"

"Fine," I answer, pouring myself a glass of orange juice.

"Your father told me you went to a pool competition. How did you do?"

As much as I don't like having too many conversations with Jay, I can't help but tell her about my winning shot. I smile triumphantly.

"That's lovely!" She exclaims. "I keep telling your father how we should get a pool table and teach the girls to play."

I nod. "That would be great."

Jay smiles from ear to ear, obviously happy I'm agreeing with her over something. She puts down her newspaper as she gets up to refill her mug.

"Blair, listen," she says. "You know your father has been working very hard to mend your relationship."

I nod slowly. Where is she going with this?

"He wanted me to ask you if it was alright that you go on a holiday for a few days this week...just the two of you, up to the lake." She sets her mug down. "I know it's not my place to say anything, but...I do think it would be good for the both of you. You deserve some one on one time." She smiles kindly at me before exiting the kitchen.

A holiday? At the lake? We used to go there before mum died. I swallow hard. I have to go. Not for dad, not for me...but for mum.

"Jay," I call, walking out of the kitchen. Jay turns to be from the stairs. "Tell my dad that...I'll go."

Jay smiles widely. "I'll tell him," she says. "You'd better get packing. He wanted to leave this afternoon."

I ascend the stairs, entering my room and taking a quick shower. I reach for my pills out of habit, but then I remember that I don’t need then anymore. I'm better now, aren't I? I can do without.

I put on my usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt, tossing my hair over my shoulder. I know exactly what to pack for the lake. I grab extra shorts and jeans and swimsuits, throwing them into my suitcase. As I sit on top of it to get it to close, my phone rings, scaring me.

"Hello?" I answer, struggling to zip it shut.

"Blair," Harry says on the other line. "Can I pick you up?"

"No," I say, my voice strained as I yank the zipper shut, almost breaking it. "I'm busy right now. Sorry."

Harry exhales. "You promise you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know...after last night you've seemed...distant."

"I'm fine."

"Did I say something?"

"Harry, I'm fine," I say, almost laughing at the concern in his voice. I run a hand through my hair. "Stop worrying, will you? You're becoming more and more like your mum."

Harry chuckles. "As if."

"Blair!" My father calls from downstairs.

"Harry, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

I hang up and drag my suitcase down the stairs, wincing at the weight of it. Did I used to pack this much?

My father's features light up when he sees me with my colossal suitcase. "Let me help you with that," he says, taking it from me, and I'm grateful.

"Jesus Christ, what have you got in here? Rocks?" 

"Books," I answer and my father shakes his head. 

"We're going away for two days, Blair. How many books did you bring?"

I shrug. "Lost count."

We pile our things into my father's car, which still has the new car smell. I know it's at least a two-hour drive, so I grab a random book from my bag and settle into the passenger seat. Despite my current feelings toward my father, I am excited for this trip. Maybe Jay's right. We need some one on one time.

"What book do you have there?" My father asks as we begin the drive.

I look over at him, and then down to my book. "The Pact," I answer.

"Ah," he says. "I haven't read that one. Good?"

"Yes, very," I say. "I've read it before."

"Then why read it again?"

I shrug. "I notice new things every time I read it."

"What's it about?"

"A supposed suicide pact," I tell him.

"That's horrible!"

I shrug. "There's reason behind it."

I can tell my father is excited by this truce we have at the moment, where I'm not snapping at him for being a bad father. I don't mind it, either. The last time we spoke this way, with no shouting and accusations was...years and years ago. It seems farfetched, but it's true.

"How's Harry doing?" My father asks after a few minutes of silence.

"Good," I say.

"He's treating you well?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "We're not dating, Dad."

He looks at me in shock. "You're not?"

I shake my head slowly.

"Why the bloody hell does he look at you like that, then?"

"Like what?"

"Like he'd meet you at the alter any day."

I start. "Harry doesn't commit to people."

"He's committed to you all these years."

"We're kind of bound by mum," I say. "That's the only reason he stays around." I know I'm lying; to my father, and to myself.

"Bullshit," my father says. "He stays around because he needs you."

I roll my eyes. "Harry's not the same kid he was years ago, Dad. He doesn't need anyone anymore."

"I see that," my father says. "That's why I was initially afraid that you two were growing closer...he didn't seem like he cared for anyone. He reminds me a bit of myself." My father sighs. "I don't want history to repeat itself."

"History won't repeat itself," I assure him. "Because Harry and I aren't dating."

"Neither were we," he says, referring to him and mum.

"Can we please talk about something else?" I mumble.

My father nods and we fall silent. I run a hand through my hair and focus back on my book. I know at the speed we're going on the highway, I'll lose cell phone service soon. I save myself time and press the off button on my phone. I feel a sudden wave of dizziness overtake me, and I grab onto the car to stabilize myself. It leaves as quickly as it came.

(what do you think is going to happen? remember to vote and comment! x)