Chapter Eleven
"Amber, I really don't think this is a good idea," Ethan said as he sat on the couch in his living room. I was shuffling through his father's liquor cabinet trying to decide which bottle to use. "If my dad finds out, he's going to flip, like completely. He’ll get crazy. He keeps telling me that the cabinet is off limits. He said if he ever caught me in there, he would whip me."
"First of all, no parent wants their child to drink," I told Ethan. "And every parent says that they are going to whip their kid if they find out that this kid is drinking. I know my parents did."
"And have they ever caught you drinking?"
"More than once but all they did was yell at me and ground me. Nothing else," I said. I was about to pull out a bottle of Gentleman Jack's Whiskey when I turned to look at Ethan. He was wringing his hands around each other and looking at me desperately. Changing my mind, I closed the liquor cabinet and joined Ethan on the couch. "Okay if you really don't want to drink we won't drink. It's no big deal and honestly it was getting kind of old for me. Kind of lame, you know." Ethan nodded and I could see him visibly relax. He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "You must think I'm lame and pathetic. I know I do."
"Nah," I said. "I'm not really into drinking anymore either. It helped when my friend Madison disappeared, kind of numbed me up so I wasn't hurting so much. But now it seems a little pathetic and useless, you know? And I'm wondering if worrying about my friend was even worth it."
"Why?"
"It turns out that she had this whole secret life that she kept from me. She also kind of dissed me as a person...I read it all in her journal. It was a slap in the face."
"It usually is," Ethan agreed. "That's why I try not to get too close to people. You never know who they really are until it's too late." Ethan lifted his head up to look at me. "But that was before I met you. Now...now I don't know what to do about anything." Ethan smiled at me and I blushed. I wasn't the type of girl that usually got flustered by compliments but I found myself speechless. My brain turned to mush. So, instead, I leaned over and gave Ethan a peck on the cheek. It was an innocent kiss with no expectations.
"You are sweet, do you know that?" I asked. "Does your dad ever tell you how special you are or anything?"
"Probably not as much as he should," Ethan said. “Or as much as I want to hear. My dad loves me, I know that he does, but being a single parent makes him a little tough. He wants to make sure I grow up well but he isn't used to being a single parent. My mom did all the disciplining and when she died…well, he didn’t know what to do. The only thing he knows is how to be strict."
"Well at least your dad cares," I said. "You know what it’s like with my father, I’ve told you that." I curled my feet under me and put my head against Ethan's chest. "He’s more like a paycheck then a father. If I hadn’t gotten into trouble…I probably wouldn’t have seen him until my high school graduation." I sighed "But my mother cares and that's enough for me. She's always been enough for me."
* * *
I wasn't sure when I fell asleep or for how long I was sleeping but when I opened my eyes, my neck was tucked into the space between Ethan's shoulder and his head. Ethan's arm was around me and his head was resting against the back of the couch. I looked outside to see the sun was low in the horizon. The clock on the mantle revealed that it was almost eight; Ethan's father would be home in an hour.
I carefully moved Ethan's arm away from me and slid up until I was at the edge of the couch. Uncurling my legs from under me, I stretched and tried not to wince at the stiffness in my joints. Ethan grunted and curled his body up, closing the space I left behind.
I stood up, took a moment to watch Ethan sleep, and then left the room. It was the perfect time to look for Ethan’s sister’s room. I wanted to see what she was like, who she looked like. Or if she even existed. There wasn’t a single picture of her, or Ethan’s mother, in any of the rooms Ethan showed me. It was like, once they died, they were cut off from the family. Yet there was a dollhouse in the back. Maybe the dollhouse is where they keep all the pictures and mementos. I could be wasting my time here.
I walked down the hallway, peeking my head