Chapter 3:

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"Tell Aunt Kiera and the brats I said hi." I waved goodbye to my Uncle as I got out of the car. 

"Hey Jess, go clean yourself up.  Your Mom and Dad are on their way and should be here soon. They don't need to see you like this." 

I looked down at my stained, ripped jeans and shirt that was barely hanging on to my shoulders.   What was wrong with the way I looked?   I looked back up at him and he waved at me before I could ask.

I walked up the porch stairs whistling and threw the front door open.  Jax was sitting in the living room playing some stupid video game, yelling loudly to some of his friends on his headset.

"I'm back." I called playfully to him.  "Ready for round two?"

He turned his head towards me and my mouth dropped open.  His eye was swollen shut and was a purplish-blue.  I gave the little dweeb a black eye.  He was looking at me like he was scared of me.  I may not like my brother, but I never wanted to really hurt him. Fuck, I needed another drink. I could use it to wash down some of the Xanax I had stashed up in my room. 

"Mom and Dad will be home soon." He turned back to the screen without saying another word. I crossed my arms over my chest and chewed my lip nervously.  They were going to be so pissed when they saw his face.  My inner voice told me it was time to pack my bags. They were going to tear into me when they got home. If I could blow them off for a day, then maybe they would forget about what happened.

I went upstairs to my bedroom to grab my pills to take the edge off.  I was all out of liquor and my Mom and Dad never kept any in the house.  For having a Dad that was the head guy at a recording studio, this house was so vanilla that it was disgusting. What adult doesn't at least keep a bottle stashed somewhere? I had to admit if they had one, I probably would have drunk it by now.

My duffel bag was hanging in my closet.  I needed to get in, grab my stuff, and get out for the night.  Nathan, my manager, had a band recording tonight at his studio. I could crash there instead of staying here to get screamed at or get stuck sitting in some dramatic intervention where my Mom cried. It always made me feel like I was the worst thing that ever happened to her.

"Oh, pretty." I said looking over to my window when I saw a perfectly symmetrical monarch butterfly waving hello to me.  I waved back at her.  Pretty black and orange butterfly.  I was very pretty too, even though Uncle Aiden said I needed to clean up.  I went and looked at myself in the mirror, comparing myself to the butterfly.  Wild dark hair, piercing too-big blue eyes, and a mouth that could drive every boy wild.  I was much hotter than the butterfly.  I won.

I shoved a few things in my bag and threw it over my shoulder.  I grabbed my grandpa's acoustic guitar and placed it in the case.  Maybe I could use some of this pent up energy buzzing inside me to write another song. I just finished writing and recording my third demo.  I stayed up for 72 hours straight to finish it.  I wanted my name in lights. I was going to be a legend and get out of this place.  I was going to do what my Dad never could.  I couldn't be stopped.

I froze in place when I got to the top of the stairs. Shit, I wasn't fast enough. I shouldn't have paused to wave at the butterfly.

I guess I wasn't really that unstoppable.

My Dad stood at the foot of the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at me.  He was biting the inside of his cheek as he was puffed up in his usual "I'm trying to control the world" stance.  My Mom was reaching up to touch Jax's bruised face.  She was shorter than he was; she was shorter than all of us.  She looked so tiny standing in the room with all of us gigantic freaks. She had to stand on her tiptoes to look at his busted face.

"Where the fuck do you think you are going?" My Dad's voice boomed up to me.

"Ezra. Breathe." My Mom softly warned.  She reached back and ran her hand along his back, trying to calm him down.  My parents were always touching if they were in the same room.  They had this messed up codependency together, which is probably why I was so screwed up in the first place.

"I'm going to Nathan's to rehearse." I said finding my voice and walking down the stairs. 

"Jess, you need to stay here so we can talk about this." My Mom said pulling the corners of her mouth down.  Even when she was frowning disapprovingly at me, my Mom was gorgeous.  No wonder my Dad was always looking at her like she would disappear. I was lucky I got her curves. Everything was in all the right places.

"Nothing to talk about."  I said, hesitating on the last step in front of my Dad.  He had never laid his hands on me, but the way he was staring down at me scared the shit out of me.  I had never seen him this angry before. 

"What about the naked guy scratching his ass in my bed?" I swear Jax had a death wish.

"Jax, language." My Mom scolded him with the ferocity of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. She really just let him get away with everything. 

"Jessa, what the fuck is Jax talking about? Why was there a naked man in my house?" My Dad took a step closer to me.  His face was laced with fury.  He was about two seconds from hitting something.

"Jax, go upstairs." My Mom was on edge as she looked between my Dad and me with a worried expression on her face.  Meanwhile, I just danced on the steps to a song in my head.  I liked to dance. I hated standing still.

"But..." Jax started to complain. 

"Go Jax." My Dad mumbled through clenched teeth.

Jax shrugged and walked up the stairs making sure to bump into me hard as he walked past me.  I was standing here dancing, waiting to get berated and he was just allowed to do whatever the hell he wanted because he was just so perfect.  I wanted out of this family. Maybe I should go clubbing. No, how about a rave?

"Ezra."  My Mom said, wrapping herself around his back.  "Can you go call Aiden for me and let him know we are home?"

He looked back at her starting to protest and she shook her head at him. A small tear fell down her cheek and his stance softened immediately.  My Dad always hated it when my Mom cried.  I hated to watch her cry too, but it still didn't stop me from doing everything I could to drain the well.

Without uttering another word, my Dad left us standing in the entryway, staring silently at one another.

"Living Room." My Mom stalked off and I rolled my eyes as I danced behind her silently.

I sat down in the middle of the couch and she plopped down on the coffee table right in front of me.  She was going to make sure I was looking at her while she spoke. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. I knew what was coming, but I was still never prepared for this conversation every time we had it.  At least my Dad wasn't in the background this time biting his tongue while looking like he was going to Hulk out at any second.

"Jessa, I called Dr. Schroeder on our way home. You are going to be readmitted to the treatment center this afternoon."

Not this again. I wasn't going. I was never going back there.

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