austin

xii.

dear austin, 

it feels like it's been forever since i was at kylie's and had that talk with kyle. maybe it's because a lot have things have happened since yesterday. 

mom made me pack "everything that's really important to me" and she made me load it into the car, driving me and my belongings to dad's house. this happened about thirty minutes after i got home. 

yeah, stephanie was there. 

then mom drove out of the driveway without saying a word. i'm beginning to think the last thing she'll ever say to me is "get in the car, cassandra." 

because the whole car ride, i asked her what was going on, or if she was okay, or if everyone was okay, and she didn't say a word. she gripped the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles were whiter than the sun. she pursed her lips and blinked heavily. 

then she peeled out of dad's driveway and left me standing on dad's front porch with all my stuff around me. she'd helped me in a hurry to get my stuff on the porch, but that's as far as she went before she left. 

i don't know what's going on still, but some stuff happened between then and the time dinner started. 

first of all, stephanie and dad helped me move my stuff into my room, which was really nice. i hoped for a second that they wouldn't talk to me about what happened the other day. 

which reminded me that i told dad i was never coming back to his house. but i really had no choice, because mom looked ready to slap me. 

anyways, when we finished getting my stuff upstairs, stephanie asked me to sit down on the couch and went into the kitchen with my dad to make me some of that fucking lime juice-infested water. 

and once she brought me back a glass, i dumped it into a potted plant next to the side table and set the glass on a coaster, crossing my legs. 

stephanie clicked her tongue and sat across from me on the coffee table, with my dad sitting next to me on the couch.

"so, cass," she said, crossing her legs like i had done to mine, which maybe she thought was intimidating (and it wasn't). she intertwined her own fingers and placed her hand around her knee. 

"so, steph," i replied. dad tapped his foot on the hardwood floor. 

"would you like me to call you cassandra or something?" she asked. 

"i don't care." 

"okay, cass. i think we need to talk about what happened on wednesday." 

"okay." 

"the rug that you got all wet and muddy had to be thrown away," she said, as if she was speaking about a pet that had to be put down.

that reminded me of you, and instantly, the blood in my veins became boiling water. 

"and?" 

"it cost me about five hundred dollars to purchase that rug." 

"and?" 

"i'm not asking you to pay me back."

"well, i wasn't going to anyways." 

she clicked her tongue again. 

"i just want you to be aware that your petty little actions have consequences." 

"i'm aware." 

"and you do it anyway." it wasn't a question. it was an answer to what i said. 

"is there anything else you need to 'make me aware' of?" 

"i want you to know that the things you said to me and your father made me feel awful. i cried for days." 

oh, big deal, i thought. it's not like you've lost one of the only things that makes you happy in this whole lonely world, and it's not like you have something in your head telling you there's always something to be upset about, whether its the death of your friends, the death of anyone, the way your mom clearly doesn't care about you, the way your dad clearly doesn't care about you, or the way you just suck in general.

but i wasn't thinking to myself. i said it out loud. all of it. 

stephanie sighed like she wanted to escape something but couldn't. "we can talk about this some other time, okay?" 

she said it really quietly. when she got up she patted my knee. 

i'm 100% sure that as she got up and walked into the kichen, she thought she'd made some kind of connection with me, she thought she'd done some good deed but giving me a pardon when i bared myself like that. 

but she didn't. i still hate her. and sure, it was nice for her to let me off the hook after i told her that. but she's still a bitch for bringing it up anyway. and she's still a bitch for thinking i do this kind of thing for attention. the last thing i want is more attention, for fuck's sake. 

so she went into the kitchen to make dinner, and that left dad and i alone. 

"you didn't need to guiltrip your stepmother," he said. 

so that made me get up off the couch and head upstairs. 

that's where i am now. and i'm texting kyle. 

i know it was probably a mistake, but i told him everything. well, not everything about me, but everything that's gone down around both of my houses since the funeral. which includes my weekly visits to ms. delman, which feels like weekly visits to a clear glass box where people watch me and they write down negative things about me, and then they hand me the paper like it's homework.

that's exactly what i told him. 

and he said "i'm really sorry cass" and it felt like he handed me a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting and little red sprinkes. it was a really sweet gesture and it made me feel really happy. 

so even though i'm crammed in this piss-poor excuse for a living space and i have no intention on coming out except to go to school. i am really hungry, i'll admit, but if they're not going to bring me dinner i'm not going to go get it. 

i'm tempted to call mom, but i'm afraid of what i'll get. 

i just don't know anymore.

love, cass