HOW I LOST YOU

CHAPTER NINTEEN AND BONUS TWENTY!

Chapter Nineteen

Oh, sweetie,” I said.

She snorted again. “Sweet as a dill pickle.”

She stood straighter and swallowed repeatedly, as if to keep back a puddle of black emotions. “Don’t tell Lucas I was flirting with that guy. Okay?”

“I don’t plan on telling Lucas anything.”

She nodded but she looked crumpled.

“You okay to go in?” I asked, and stuck my hand in my purse, searching for the hotel card.

“Give me a minute,” she said, and sniffled.

I swiped the key in the door. “I’ll see if my mom is still up,” I whispered. She bent over, breathing deep, and propped her back against the wall. I lifted my finger to let her know I’d be a second, pushed open the door, and stepped inside. As soon as the pattern on the carpet changed from hallway to room, I kicked off my ridiculous shoes. My feet silently cheered. The heavy door slipped behind me and shut.

“Shoot,” I whispered, staring at it. Then I tiptoed around the corner toward the two queen-size beds.

“Hey!” a voice called.

I grabbed my heart. “Geez. You scared me.”

Mom sat cross-legged on a bed, watching TV, the volume turned off.

“You’re early. How was the dinner?” she said when she saw me. She squinted past my shoulder. “Where’s Kya?”

“Uh.” My bottom lip quivered. “She’s coming. Um. The dinner kind of sucked. And she’s kind of upset.”

Mom’s face wrinkled up, showing her concern. “Really? You were so looking forward to it, what happened? Why are you back so soon? Where is she?” she repeated.

I bit my lip. Mom uncrossed her legs and stood. “What’s wrong? What happened? Where is Kya?”

“She’s fine. She’s, uh, in the hallway.” I kind of wanted to leave her there. “Composing herself.”

“Why?”

I looked at Mom. Of all the times in the world to act maternal, she’d pick this moment? “Promise not to get mad?”

She frowned. “That is not a good question to ask, especially when you’re a teenager.”

I nodded. “I know.” I took another deep breath. “Kya…” I paused, not sure what to say.

“What?” She took a step toward me and then another and reached for my hand.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. And decided to go with the truth. God. I seriously needed some lessons in parental deception.

“Some guy kept buying her drinks,” I said, aware that my strategy consisted solely of trying to lay the blame on him. “They were strong. And she doesn’t handle liquor very well. So, she’s kind of drunk. And upset.”

Mom sighed loudly, dropped my hand, and walked past me to the door. “That child is more than a small handful.”

“It wasn’t her fault, Mom.”

She had her hand on the doorknob but turned back. “Grace, she made the decision to accept the drinks on her own. And she drank them.”

My mom. The hard ass.

“I’ll talk to her and bring her inside. Take off your dress. Change into something comfortable.” She opened the door. “Oh, Kya.” She mumbled something else I didn’t hear.