Page 51 of What If It Was Us
I stopped in the hallway, debating if I should turn around and walk back into the kitchen to talk to him. “No, I didn’t feel good so I had them bring me home,” I said.
“Oh, well I’m going to make dinner later if you want any.”
I mouthed the words,What the fuck. When had Peter ever been nice like this to me? When had he ever acted like I was anything besides an annoyance in his life that he couldn’t wait to get rid of?
“Maybe. I’ll see how I’m feeling. Thanks, Peter.”
I started heading for my room again, and I heard Peter call out, “Merry Christmas, Addie.”
***
I read in my room all day, occasionally putting my ear to the door to listen to what Peter was doing. He kept going up and down the stairs, and I assumed he was spending the day in his room as well, only coming back upstairs to get a new drink.
At one point he left, and I watched his car drive away, then heard the door open and close an hour later.
I had a few texts pop up on my phone throughout the day. Marie and Phil wished me a Merry Christmas, and said they hoped I felt better soon. There were also a bunch of one-sentence texts in a row from Julie, giving me a play-by-play of her spying on Sam and his girlfriend while he tried to teach her how to play a video game.
She’s acting like she doesn’t know how to hold the controller so he can put his hands on hers
Ew she giggled and he tickled her, like right under the armpits, wtf
Sam kissed her neck, I saw tongue *gags*
It’s like a cringey reality show, I just can’t stop watching
Oh, Sophie is attempting to climb Jackson like a tree and he is NOT having it
She just told him the drum set is obnoxious ahhahahhha maybe I do like her?
I wished I had a smartphone like Jackson and Julie, because I didn’t even know how to put my ancient phone on Do Not Disturb. I didn’t even know if it had the option.
The whole point of not being there was to get Sophie and Jackson off my mind. I threw my phone into my bundle of sheets and walked toward the kitchen, the smell of spices hitting me before I even entered the room.
Peter was cooking chicken on the stove, there were potatoes boiling in a pot, and something was baking in the oven.
“Can you mash the potatoes for me? Milk is on the table,” Peter asked.
He was talking to me so normally, so I acted completely normal in return as I drained the potatoes and poured in milk, mixing them around. He set the table with two plates and silverware, then pulled out the tray from the oven. It looked like glazed carrots.
I felt like I was in some alternate universe where Peter and I were a team; that we had a sibling relationship like Julie and Jackson did.
He turned off the burner, using tongs to place a piece of chicken on my plate. He joined me at the table and we filled our plates with the sides. We ate in silence, no words passing between us.
Peter was drinking what looked like a glass of coke, and as we ate, I assumed he was sober. We were almost done with our meal when he refilled his glass, pouring whiskey into the glass until it was almost full, and then topping it off with coke.
I stared at his glass as he sat back down at the table, and when he set it down it sloshed over the side, splattering against the table. I looked up at him, and he was staring at me. He didn’t look nice anymore, and something dark flashed across his eyes. My defenses kicked up, getting ready to run if he started to yell at me.
He shook his head suddenly and scoffed. “You’re starting to look so much like Mom.”
It sounded like a bad thing. A very,verybad thing that caused goose bumps to raise across my skin.
I was wrong—Peter and I would never have a relationship like normal siblings. He still resented me, and I was dumb enough to let my guard down for this dinner. I didn’t say anything in return as I cautiously got up to put my dishes in the dishwasher.
“Thanks for dinner, Peter,” I said quietly before hurrying out the kitchen.
As soon as I closed the door to my bedroom, I heard Peter throwing things around the kitchen. It sounded like he threw his plate against the wall to shatter it, followed by the clang of silverware, pots, and pans being knocked to the floor. I covered my ears, trying to hide from the sound. All this, just because I looked like Mom and it set him off.
My phone started vibrating under my back, and I dug around under my sheets to find it. Jackson’s name was on my screen, and I hit the side button to decline the call.
