Page 23 of Shelter
The Bakers’ house was two-story, and all of the bedrooms were upstairs, including Mr. and Mrs. Baker’s. As soon as my foot hit the bottom step, I could hear Ava coughing, retching.
Shit.
She’d wake up Bree’s parents, and then we’d all be in trouble. I had to get her out of there.
Taking the stairs on tiptoes, I sped to Honey’s room, a place I’d never been, but the sounds I was hearing made its location unmistakable. Once inside the pink and lavender space, I shut the door behind me to try to muffle the noise and crossed to the bathroom.
The cloying stench of wine cooler vomit hit me the same instant I found my sister slumped at the foot of a toilet. A pink mess streaked across the floor and ended under Ava’s knee.
“Jesus,” I hissed.
Ava looked up at me, her pale face stained with running mascara. “Cole, I’m-m s-sorr—” Her slurred apology was cut short as her whole body heaved upward, and a loud rush of sick left her. I put the back of my hand to my nose and turned away.
“Good God, Ava,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’re fourteen.”
She coughed, spit, and sniffled. “Pleassse don’t be m-m-mad, Cole.”
I shook my head, unable to deal with tears or regrets. I had a mess to clean up and a drunk sister to move, and I didn’t know where to begin. Turning toward the sink, I found a clean washcloth folded neatly on the counter, so I grabbed it and ran it under cold water.
“Are you done being sick?”
Ava’s face was pained. “Pleas-s-se, don’t be mad—”
“Ava, I asked you a question.” My words were quiet but clipped. I wanted to yell at her, but that would completely defeat my purpose. The Bakers had no sons, and no boys were allowed upstairs, so if Bree’s parents heard the depth of my voice, they’d be in here in a matter of seconds. “Are you done being sick so we can clean this place up and get the hell out of here?”
Ava blinked her watery eyes, but she kept from crying, thank God. I hated seeing her cry, and no matter how often she did — and Ava cried a lot — I never got used to it.
“Uh dunno. I feel awful.”
I handed her the washcloth. “Well, wipe your face and stay put. I’ve got to find something to—”
Honey’s bedroom door opened, and I turned to see Honey, Louis, and Bree entering. Bree carried a mop, a bucket, and cleanser.
I turned to Louis. “You have the best girlfriend on earth,” I told him in all seriousness. “Don’t ever screw this up, or I’ll be waiting to pick up the pieces.” This part wasn’t exactly true, but I never wanted Louis to get careless about Bree.
The way he grabbed the mop from her and pointed it at me, I guessed the chances of him getting careless were pretty low.
“The only thing that’ll be in pieces will be you,” he said, half joking, but half not.
This was the game we played. I think all three of us enjoyed it on some level. I liked getting a rise out of Louis and making Bree blush. She liked Louis’s harmless jealous streak, and Louis liked putting me in my place and claiming what was his. I couldn’t blame him.
I held out my hand. “Just give me the mop so I can get this cleaned up.”
He did, giving Ava a sympathetic half smile. “Not feeling too great, Av?”
My sister just closed her eyes and groaned.
Bree stepped into the bathroom, carefully avoiding the mess on the floor, and turned on the tub taps. “It’s okay, Ava. We’ve all been there.”
“Not me,” Honey said, looking unamused. “I told her she’d had enough.”
Bree shot her sister a frown. “Not now, Honey.”
Ava groaned again. “Sh-h-he did… She did tell m-m-me,” she slurred, her eyes still closed. “I should ha listen…”
We all looked at Ava whose head lolled against the toilet bowl.
Louis was the first to speak. “Cole, I think your sister just passed out.”
