Slate | ✓

NINE | ATHENA

"I know you think I'm just here for your convenience, but no, Athena, I can't drop everything and drive you to school just because you bothered to say please for once," Annie chides, adjusting Henry on her hip as she walks. "You should have taken the bus with Will this morning."

"I have first period off," I complain, tailing her down the hall and into the kitchen. "If I'd left with Will, I would have been at school a full two hours earlier than I need to be." It's not exactly true. I chose to skip my first class, but I don't think Annie needs to know I woke up this morning more nervous than I can remember being for anything.

"You were up even earlier than usual."

"Well, I had to do my hair." And compulsively check Instagram for the millionth- fucking- time this weekend, waiting for something, for anything. Since the party, it's been radio silence, like everybody's collectively agreed I'm the asshole. I don't think I disagree, but I'd rather it be said to my face. It's like I've been blacklisted and school hasn't even started yet.

Annie places Henry in his high chair. "It's not happening, Athena."

"Fuck." The word tumbles out under my breath as I turn away.

"Don't talk to me like that," Annie's voice becomes sharp.

I whip back around, the sudden urge to scream rising in my chest, especially with the way Annie's looking at me, like she's just daring me to say something she can go tell Victor about. I imagine it now, in her nasally voice: Your daughter's a psychopath. I take a deep inhale through my nose and grit my teeth. "I'm not talking to you." My tone is measured. "I'm talking around you."

Annie secures a bib around Henry's neck. "You're swearing around a small child. He can hear what you're saying, you know."

I roll my eyes. "Please, his brain is like a mashed potato," I gesture towards Henry, who stares up at me with his big grey orbs, "like, his head is still squishy or something-"

"What are you even saying?"

"I don't know." I'm still defensive, but only because it's Annie. I strut over to the couch, sinking into the well-worn cushions, and begin to pick at the faded upholstery. Maybe I just won't go to school today; I'll stay in my room and watch YouTube videos and I won't think about any of it. That's what Will would do. He could avoid the fucking house burning down around him without even batting an eye at the heat. Yet, some fibre of my being is telling me that this is edging dangerously close to hiding, which is a slippery slope into shame. I'm not nervous because I'm in the wrong, or about what people might do or say, but because they'll be looking at me, watching, scrutinizing, like they're waiting for me to explode or something. People will have noticed that I've missed first period. It'll look weak—

The front door edges open and Darcy steps through, giving a tight smile when his eyes land on me. "Knock, knock," he says, not actually knocking, and crosses the room in two long strides. He's wearing dress pants that are too big for him and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The bleached blond hair that usually falls over his forehead is slicked back and out of his face, making him look older and not quite like himself. "Hey, Annie," he offers her the same thin smile and a curt nod.

Annie looks up from the spoonful of baby food she hovers near Henry's mouth. Her lips curl into a smile. "Darcy! You've got your meeting today?"

"Yep," he chirps, gesturing to his outfit. "Would you hire me?"

"Sure," Annie slowly nods, looking him up and down. "It's very American Psycho-esque."

"Great!" Darcy claps his hands together. "That's just what I wanted to hear, thanks."