Page 35 of Naked Coffee Guy

“Maren?” Her voice is strained, and I’m worried she’s going to be sick again.

“Let’s get out of the car,” I say, taking her arm and putting if over my shoulder. She stands, but I bear most of the weight. “Can you walk?”

She nods, taking a shuffling step forward. She murmurs something else, and I lean in to hear what she’s saying.

“How’s it feel?” she slurs, then takes another few steps. I cling to her to keep from falling as she stumbles.

“How’s what feel?”

She laughs, dropping to the asphalt, probably skinning her unprotected knees.

“How’s it feel to know that you fucked up so badly that Mom and Dad don’t want you? That they pretend you’re dead because they can’t stand to know you exist.”

It takes all my effort to not push her back down and cram her face into the street. I hear Mac’s door slam shut, and I whirl around, losing Lydia in the process as I press my hands to his chest.

“It’s fine, I got this.”

“It’s not fine. That little brat needs to learn a lesson.”

“And you’re going to teach it to her?” I ask, still holding him off.

“No,” he says, shaking me off him. “But no one gets to talk to you that way, least of all a spoiled drunk kid. I don’t care if she’s your sister.”

“And you’ll stand down because she’s my sister. This is my business, Mac. Not yours. I can handle my own.”

Even though he’s made it clear that no one gets to tell him what to do, this is where the line is drawn. He can run his alpha mouth all day long, and I will not back down.

The hardened look remains in his eyes, and he glares at Lydia, who is back on her ass on the ground not even bothering to get back up.

“Fine,” he relents, “But I’m staying with you, and not in the car like some bitch.”

“Fine,” I spit back at him. But secretly, I’m glad. Just knowing he’s there eases my nerves about facing my father again.

We get Lydia to the front steps, and I’m about to ring the doorbell, when she stops me with a flailing hand.

“No,” she says. She looks at me, and this time I see the fear in her eyes. “He can’t know.”

After all this girl has said to me, I have half a mind to beat the door down and get him really angry before he opens it to find his drunk daughter. But something in her face stops me. Even though I owe her nothing, and I have every right to turn her in, I lower my hand.

“Give me your keys,” I say, and she fishes around in her purse before finding them. “Not a peep. If I’m going to sneak you in, you’re going to be dead silent, you hear me? Because if Dad catches me in there with you, being drunk will be the least of your issues.”

Lydia won’t be the one to pay—I will. Still, a new look of fear crosses her face, and she nods.

“I can try to make it to my room by myself,” she slurs, but I shake my head.

“You can barely stand up, let alone walk. Now stop talking and let’s get this over with.”

“I’m still coming with you,” Mac says. I nod, even though this feels like an impossible mission. But I also don’t want to go in there alone.

I slide the key into the lock and turn it quietly. Then I ease the door open, holding my breath. I look at Lydia and nod, and we both make the first step into the house.

The smell in the house hits me all at once, an earthy scent I haven’t smelled for years. There’s the hint of whatever they had for dinner—my mom’s Chile relleno, if I’m smelling it correctly. The porch light casts a soft glow on the living room, and it’s apparent nothing has changed. It’s like time has stood still, and I’m seventeen again, coming in after a night out. Pictures of Lydia line the entryway, starting from when she was little all the way up to her track photos from this year. Gone are any photos of me.

For Lydia’s part, she manages to stay upright with each step. Mac stays close as we advance down the hall, one careful step at a time. Lydia nods to the door that used to be my room, and my heart aches as I open it. In the moonlight streaming through the bedroom window, I can see all my things are gone, replaced by hers. It’s like I never lived here. Like I never existed.

Mac is in the room but turns his back as I undress my sister and get her into bed. Her breathing deepens as soon as she’s tucked in, and I pause for just a moment to look her over. Asleep, her face is peaceful. She reminds me more of the girl I’ve seen on social media and less like the vile bitch I’ve just spent the last half hour with. I know my feelings toward her are changed forever. The mystery is gone. Maybe it’s time to give up my family once and for all, to never look back.

A piece of me breaks, knowing this is the end of what I once wished for.