Thorns & Oranges

Hey, Mr. DJ

Chapter Six

That night I got a call from my parents, one I didn't want to answer because of the questions they'd eventually ask. However, like the good daughter I now was, I answered on the second ring, silencing the Psycho Theme ringtone. For fifteen minutes, I painted my toes while they blathered on about the conference and the vacation they were now planning on taking as well. I wasn't surprised when it was my father who finally got around to asking how I was.

"I'm fine, Dad. I swear."

"Are you sure? Because we can come home instead of going on this vacation."

"Can I come with you?" I joked.

"Oh, china," my mother huffed. If she was using that nickname, she wasn't happy.

They were doing the three way call with two lines in their hotel room. I heard my father sigh. "Maybe we should, esposa. She doesn't sound happy."

"Happiness is in the eye of the beholder, Fidel." I heard her sigh. "It can't be that bad there, niña."

"I don't think being back there is healthy for her," my father piped in. "She's been doing so well and her staying with Vincent was only temporary. Arrietty, have your things ready on Sunday and I'll come collect you."

"Fidel..."

"No arguments. It's settled."

He hung up which left me with my mother. It wasn't exactly the greatest idea since she was always the toughest out of the two.

"Now you've got him all riled up, Arrietty. I hope you're happy."

"That's not what I wanted..."

"No. You just wanted to make this about you and now it is. You need to learn to deal with your past and coming with us is not going to help you. It's just hindering and enabling you. You're a strong girl. Start acting like one."

I closed my eyes and held my head in my hand. "I'm sorry, mamá. If it's what you want then I'll stay..."

"That's not the point! You have the men in our family twisted around your pinkie and I won't have it anymore. You've been babied enough. It's time you step up."

"What do you think I've done all year? I'm clean, I have a 3.4 GPA. I haven't touched an alcoholic beverage..."

"You shouldn't be drinking anyway! You're not old enough and you're diabetic. If you drink it'll send your sugars into orbit..." I held the phone away from my ear letting her rant and rave about a life I no longer lived. Her words made me ashamed of myself and a tear trickled down my face. Leave it to my mother to make me cry. I quickly brushed it off and said, "Sorry, mamá. I have to go. Give my love to papá."

I snapped my phone closed and tossed it on my bed. I needed a drink. Oh wait, I couldn't.

"Fuck, fuck, shit, damn, fucking shit!"

I knew my brother was having a party tonight and if I stuck around I would be tempted to drink. So after the polish dried, I dulled myself up, grabbed my car keys and cell, and left my room. The second the toe of my Marc Jacobs' black pump touched the carpet of the landing, my brother said, "And where do you think you're going?"

The man had a sixth sense when it came to me.

"Out." I took a step forward but retracted the second his voice boomed, "Get in here. Now."

I sighed and walked into my brother's office, the door of which was conveniently open. He looked me over, his eyes ignoring the leather jacket and becoming livid by the time they reached my toes.