What Lurks Beneath the Surface ✔️

chapter twenty-five

A/N: More angst... sorry not sorry, dear readers. Evangeline is going through it right now. Please enjoy the song selection I have provided 😉

Gram presses an ice pack to my temple. I'm not bleeding, thankfully, but there is an egg-sized bruise that stings to the touch.

I can handle the headache. Hell, I would take on a million more if it meant escaping this awkward scene.

Gram hovers around me, Grandpa sits across from me, and Benson, my father and their estranged son, stands on the opposite side of the kitchen, as far away from them as possible.

My grandparents got home just in time to see me faceplant. They both ran out of the car, worry coursing through their veins as they wondered if my fall was lethal or just mildly painful. Benson, of course, did the same thing. I'm flattered that he cared so much, but my slip on the ice caused him to meet face to face with his parents, two people he hasn't spoken to in years.

Two people who have no desire to see him.

They managed to keep their composure for my sake. Their first priority was making sure that I was okay. I'm tempted to pretend my injury is worse than it actually is just to keep up this semblance of peace, but knowing Gram, she'd rush me to the hospital without a second thought.

"Can I go to bed?" I ask, eager to escape before things get ugly.

"No," the three of them say in unison.

"I'm sleepy, and my head hurts," I whine.

"Evangeline Rose Porter, you are lucky that you fell tonight, because so help me—"

"Calista, now isn't the time," Grandpa cuts his wife off, his eyes glued to me.

"She got drunk," Benson says. It's the first time he's spoken since we came inside. "She took drugs, too."

"Which drugs?" Gram demands.

"Thanks for tattling, asshole!" I shout, folding my arms over my chest.

Is this what having a big brother feels like?

"Look, it doesn't matter," I finally say, "because it was awful, and I'm never doing it again."

"That's great, sweetie, but we still need to know what you took," Gram replies, her hands on her hips.

With a reluctant sigh, I tell them what happened: about running into Nash and Fiona, about the college party, about Chase, the flirtatious drug dealer. I burst into tears when I confess how Chase came on to me, how he raised half a dozen red flags and made my skin crawl as if I were covered in insects.

For some reason, the last part seems to irk Benson the most. He insists on going back to the frat house to teach Chase a lesson.

"I want you to take a shower and then go straight to bed," Gram orders, ignoring her eldest son. "We'll talk more tomorrow, baby girl."

I nod my head as I throw myself into her arms. She's the closest thing I have to a mother, and right now, I just need her to assure me that everything's going to be alright.

"I love you, Vange," she murmurs, caressing the back of my head.

"I love you, too," I reply, sniffling.

I march upstairs, too exhausted to even bear the thought of what's about to happen between Benson and my grandparents. It's going to be a fight—a big one at that. I think that's why Gram told me to take a shower. She didn't want to risk me overhearing any of it.

I haven't forgiven Benson for what he did to my mom, or for what he's doing to Alyx's family now. However, he did come through for me tonight. When no one else picked up the phone, he answered on the second ring. He got me home safely. If not for him, I might have been dragged back to Chase's bedroom and taken advantage of.