Masquerade

6

My phone rings and rings, but I just lay here and listen to it. I don't want to move. My joints ache and I'm afraid if I move I'll only make it worse. And so, once again, I let the call go to voicemail. This is the third time in twenty minutes I've missed a call, and I wish I'd set my phone to silent last night so I wouldn't have to hear it this morning. All I want to do is sleep until I feel better.

Most likely it's either Sarah or Ava, both of whom know when I don't answer it's probably for this very reason. I know I can expect a visit from at least one of them shortly and that makes me feel a little bit better. At least here where I'd grown up, I never have to worry about being completely alone in this.

My bedroom door opens, distracting me from my thoughts, and I expect it to be my mother who's joined me. I turn my head to look, but it's not her. My eyes prick with tears to see my father, his face carved with concern, his eyes veiled with worry.

"You alive in here?" he asks softly.

"Yeah."

He smiles a little, then steps inside my room. He's carrying a tray in his hands: on it is a breakfast plate, a glass of juice, and two pill bottles I recognize as my own. I give him a grateful smile as I struggle to sit up, careful not to let the effort of it show on my face.

"Your mom said we should feed you. I agreed that might be a good idea." My smile widens just a bit at his attempt to be funny, grateful for it. He crosses the room then sets the tray across my lap before sitting down beside me on the edge of my bed. "Bad morning?"

I sigh and nod my head.

"Well, I guess they can't all be good, can they?" He smiles, but there's really no humor in it.

"Unfortunately, no."

He looks away and bows his head. I know this is hard on him, seeing me when I'm like this, and I almost want to hug him, tell him everything will be okay. This isn't something that will kill me, just something that makes my life a bit harder than average sometimes. I'll have good days and bad, and I will have them both for the rest of my life. I say nothing. He already knows all of that just as well as I do, and neither of us have ever been one to kick a dead horse.

"So, how'd the hunt go yesterday?" he asks, changing the subject.

I smile as I reach for the first bottle, open it, then shake a pill out into my palm. I pick up my glass as I answer. "Much better than I expected. I think I found the perfect place."

He turns to me with a smile as I pop the pill in my mouth then chase it down with a sip of juice. I grab the second bottle then repeat the process.

"That's fantastic. So, when do you move out?"

I laugh as I set my glass back on the tray then level him with a mocking glare. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"Of course. Now, if only I could get rid of Aiden I'd be a happy man."

I giggle at that, ignoring how it renews the fire in my spine. "Good luck with that."

My father opens his mouth to say something, but the ringing of my phone interrupts him. We both look at it at the same time but I don't reach for it. "Want me to get that for you?"

I nod and he reaches out to pick it up before handing it to me. I look at the caller ID, but there is no number or name. Warily, I accept the call then put the pone to my ear. Most likely it's a solicitor, like those annoying ones that constantly send automated calls to inform me that my car warranty has expired, or that I've won a trip to some exotic place that probably doesn't even exist.