Six Feet Under the Stars

Reilly sat in the waiting room of the ICU next to her pregnant half sister and her heinous step-mother. Jacqueline and Jasmine had never been Reilly’s favourite people. Jasmine had been a high school girl that her father had slept with one night whilst he’d been away on business somewhere. He thought she was eighteen but when she called four years later, demanding money and support from her father, she’d ripped her mother and father’s marriage apart.

Her father hadn’t been able to weasel out of the accusations because of all the threats and support that Jasmine had on her side. She’d shipped herself from Shit-town, Texas and ended up wooing her father. Reilly had wanted to live with her mother, but Mary Jacobs had left before Reilly could even pack up her clothes and follow. She was left like Cinderella with an evil step-mother and sister and a father who didn’t have the time to look after an eight year old.

“So, it’s nice of you to show up, Reilly,” Jasmine said, tapping manicured nails against her thigh. She looked at Reilly with contempt, before fixing her grey eyes back on the people passing by. Reilly sighed, determined not to huff in front of her step-mother.

“Nice of you to call, Jazz,” she responded. Something angry flashed across Jasmine’s face before she schooled it back into contempt. She said nothing, whilst Jacqueline fidgeted nervously. Her hand kept running over the slight bump that protruded about her waist.

“Your father has been worried sick about you for the past two years. I don’t honestly know why he bothers. You’re probably to blame for his early grave.”

“My father isn’t dead yet, Jazz,” Reilly snapped.

“He was in a car accident, mom,” Jacqueline piped up. “Reilly couldn’t exactly control that.”

Reilly wanted to feel something positive towards her half-sister, but she caught sight of the bump and was reminded of exactly what Jacque was.

“Oh my gosh!” Jacqueline suddenly squealed, springing to her feet. Reilly slid her eyes towards her mother’s even more displeased face, and found herself following the path of her vicious glare. A small part of Reilly was thankful that she wasn’t subjective to it.

“Hey, Jacque, Mrs. Jacobs,” a boy said, smiling politely at them both. “How is Mr. Jacobs doing?” His eyes, like everyone else’s, seemed to over look Reilly when she was there. She wasn’t the breath taking beauties her step-mother and sister were. She was uniquely attractive with her hazel eyes and raven hair. She sighed.

“He’s still…sleeping,” Jacque said in a timid voice and the boy tugged her towards him. He was good looking in a generic sort of way. Blonde hair, blue eyes and the All American Footballer body and face. He looked older than Jacque and Reilly imagined he was a senior.

“Davis, this is my sister,” Jacqueline suddenly piped up. “Reilly, this is Davis Smith. He’s the school’s quarterback and he’s on the debate team.”

“Really? What was your recent conquest? The pros and cons of teenage parenting?”

Davis’s face flushed.

“Don’t be a bitch, Rei.”

“Don’t be a slut, Jacque,” Reilly spat. She pushed herself out of her chair and stormed towards the vending machines.

Despite the four year age gap between the sisters, Jacqueline had always managed to steal everything from under Reilly’s nose. Her father’s affections were relinquished on the younger, bastard daughter; her mother’s affections were taken away by the arrival of the bastard daughter; her social life was disposed of to take care of the bastard daughter whilst her father went off and fucked his teen queen girl friend. Jacque got the money that was meant to be for Reilly’s first car when she needed braces at age twelve. She got the sleepovers and the parties. She got the friends and the new clothes. Reilly got good grades and had to work two jobs to keep a hold of her life.

She slammed a quarter into the coffee machine and waited impatiently for the cup to fill up with generic tasting coffee before she stormed back towards the waiting room. Davis was already occupying her seat, Jacqueline nestled next to him with her fingers looped through his, their joint hands resting on her swollen belly. Jasmine sneered like there was a bad smell.

Reilly sank into a chair opposite them and sipped at her cardboard tasting beverage until a doctor finally appeared, clipboard in hand. Reilly rose and walked over, in time to catch the words, “Mrs. Jacobs? I’m afraid there were some complications with your husband’s procedure.”