Who Can Really Blame You?

I smile widely as I drive back to my apartment by myself. The man, Harold, did hook me up a CD player, free of charge, and cut the price of the car down too. I switch radio stations, and signal to turn onto my road. My phone goes off, but like a good kid, I let it ring out. I park in the parking deck and open my phone just before it hits voicemail.

“Sorry,” I say grabbing my keys and locking my door, “I was driving.”

“So you got the car?” Carter asks me.

“Yeah,” I say happily

“Well that’s the only reason I called,” he admits, “Talia made me so she could know if you got a car. Will we see it tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I say, entering the building, “Probably.”

“Okay,” he says, “I’m gonna go. Bye.”

“Bye,” I say, hanging up, and hitting the seven on the elevator. An elderly woman gets on at the third floor.

“Well, hello,” she says to me, “I don’t recognize you. How long have you lived in this building?”

“Oh,” I say, “I’ve only just moved in yesterday.”

“How do you like it?” she asks.

“It’s really nice,” I say, smiling at her. She smiles too.

“Do your parents like it?” she asks. I feel my smile fall off.

“Oh, I live alone,” I reply, as we pass the fifth floor.

“How old are you?” she asks.

“I’m only 16,” I reply, “But I’ve been emancipated from my father, so my aunt helped me get a place to stay by myself.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she says, patting my arm lightly. We stop at the seventh floor and I get off. “I’m Mrs. Kent, and if you ever need anything I’m on the eighth floor, room 804,” she tells me. I turn and smile.

“I’m Ainsley,” I reply, “And I will.”

She lets the doors close and I turn to go to my apartment.

I sit on the couch, watching the TV when it hits me.

I really live alone.

No one will come home anytime. I’m watching TV like I always do. I’m sitting on the couch like I always do. I’m sleeping like I always do. Nothing’s different, but it’s all so new.

I turn off the TV, and walk to my bedroom, where the sheets and the blankets are still lying as Carter and I left them this morning, all tangled and messy. I fall back into my bed, and smile at the ceiling, at my ceiling.

No more bruises to hide or explain. The ones on my face have already healed up, and the scratches and bruises on my back and chest are healing. My neck will heal. I can’t help but smile even bigger.

Then I stop.

What’s my dad doing? Drinking himself into oblivion? His son left him just like his wife did. Maybe I am just like her. I roll off my extremely comfortable bed, and pull my phone out of my right pocket, and call him.

“Ainsley?” my dad asks, answering after only two rings.

“Hey dad,” I say quietly, “Are you doing okay?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Carol’s hospitalizing me tomorrow,” he says. I close my eyes sadly, and press my hand into my face.

“Are you… Are you sick?” I ask him.

“She took me to the doctor’s two days after you left,” he says slowly, “My liver’s failing.”

I feel my lungs stop working.

“W-what?” I ask, making myself breathe.

“It’s only just really… started. They say there’s plenty of time to find a donor, but Carol’s insisting that I stop drinking and get help in the meantime,” he says.

“Of course you have to stop drinking, dad,” I say, my eyes filling up, “I don’t want you to die.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You should see my apartment, dad,” I say, looking around my room. It’s plain but it makes me happy.

“Is it nice?” he asks; apparently glad to be off the topic of his health.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling through my sadness, “Aunt Carol called in a favor and got me a place with two bedrooms and convinced the man to let me live here free for a year.”

I can hear my dad’s smile when he replies. “She always has favors to call in from scum bags downtown.”

“Apparently,” I say, “I got a car too.”

“I… I’m glad you can do so good for yourself, Ainsley,” he says.

“You did a great job dad,” I assure him, “Plus, I wouldn’t have any of this if Grandma hadn’t of left me money.”

“She left you money?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, “twenty thousand when I’m a legal adult, which is now, and eighty thousand for college or for when I’m 21.”

“You’ll go to college, won’t you?” he asks.

“I dunno,” I reply honestly, “It’s too early to decide.”

“You really should go,” he tells me.

“I know,” I say, “I have to go. I’ve gotta make something for dinner.”

“Okay,” he says. We don’t speak for a moment.

“I love you, dad,” I tell him.

“I love you too son,” he tells me, and then we both hang up.

“How was your first night alone?” Talia asks me. I shrug, and sit on the floor in front of my friend-filled couch. Talia is currently on top of everyone, laying across Hadley, Tayler, Carter, and Dan, who wasn’t surprised I own my own apartment.

“I called my dad,” I say.

“Oh,” everyone says.

“What did you say?” Hadley asks me.

“I was just seeing if he’s okay,” I mutter.

“Who cares?” Tayler asks. I know I look hurt.

“He’s going into the hospital today,” I say, making Tayler turn red, “His liver’s failing.”

Everyone goes silent.

“I’m sorry Jacobs,” Talia says, throwing herself off of everyone and tackling me into a hug.

“It’s fine,” I say, “They said it’s the really early stages—”

“It’s inflamed,” Carter says. I look at him, and remember his brother.

“Yeah,” I say, “So he’s going in for his drinking problems today.”

No one says anything after that. Talia stands and retakes her seat atop everyone.

“Yeah,” Tayler says finally, “our mom wants Hadley to move out soon.”

Hadley makes a face.

“I don’t blame her. She can’t afford to feed eight kids. She can manage her seven barely and I just eat too much,” Haldey says smiling.

“We’re her only kids,” Talia says, obviously confused.

“She’s saying you eat too much,” Carter tells Talia, who gasps.

Dan pats Talia’s hand comfortingly, which makes her smile and forget what she was ‘angry’ about.

“Can we see your car now?” Tayler asks, eying his sister.

I stand up and nod, and everyone scrambles off the couch to follow me to the parking complex. We all barely manage to fit in the elevator, and when the door opens into the parking complex, we all burst out, gasping.

“God, your burps smell so bad, Talia!” Carter chokes. I bend over rest my hands on my knees, trying to get some oxygen.

“That’s what my mom gets for making me eat broccoli!” she exclaims, rushing to someone’s car, “Is this one yours?”

“No,” I say, finally standing straight, and heading to my car. I pat the hood, and smile at it.

“It’s busted!” Talia laughs.

“I know,” I reply, “I like it.”

“You would,” Hadley mutters opening the door and climbing in. Everyone soon gets in too, and plays with everything.

“I like your manual window roller-downers,” Talia says playing with it. I bend over and lean in the window.

“I like my car,” I say, “I don’t care if you do or not.”

Talia leans over to me and kisses my cheek.

“I love your car,” she assures me. I push her face away and she makes a face.

“I’m over this,” Tayler says, shoving Dan out of the car so he can escape too. Everyone follows out. Tayler heads for the elevator. Talia takes Carter’s and Dan’s hands and pulls them to the elevator, and by the time Hadley and I get there, they’ve already left.

“So…” Hadley says as we wait for the elevator, “Do you think I could stay with you?”

I hadn’t realized that’s what they were bringing it up for.

“Yeah,” I say, “When?”

“She told me to stay with them for three more weeks,” Hadley says as the elevator arrives back. We get in and I let her hit the seven.

“Okay,” I say, “I always have room for you, Hadley.”

She smiles and hugs me.

“Thanks,” she says, “I was really worried I’d have to go home.”

“Don’t be,” I say as we pull away and pass the fourth floor. It occurs to me that Hadley’s a great person and that she doesn’t deserve her parents to suck like they do. We arrive at the seventh floor and I laugh at everyone trying to force the door open.

“Where’s the key?” Talia asks me.

I pull my keys out of my back pocket and shake them. She glares at me.