As I sit in the back of the Uber, I realize I could really use some new friends because right now I want to go out and let my hair down and forget about whatever stunt Elliot is trying to pull. I can’t talk to Evie about it because I don’t need her getting in the middle. She’ll feel compelled to solve it, and there’s no solution for this. I thought I would be able to talk to him and set some boundaries about not making it awkward when we’re out with Lior and Evie, but all that went straight out the window when he went on his tirade about friendship.

I don’t need him to delve deeper, nor do I need another person in my life taking pity on me every chance they get. Having sex with him is a million times easier than sharing all the other shit going in my life right now.

I walk through the door, and the brightness from the television is the only light in the room, making it easier to see my mother curled up on the couch asleep. Pulling a light blanket over her, I find the remote, switch off the TV, and turn to walk to the kitchen.

“Did you have a good night?” I hear my mom ask. Her voice is gravelly and low, she speaks so rarely these days, I sometimes forget what she sounds like.

“Yeah, it was great.”

“Make sure you check in on your sister before you go to bed.”

“No worries, Mom,” I say. I squeeze my eyes closed and let the tears fall. I was going to make myself a cup of coffee and stay up to do some work, but the reality check makes me just want to sleep. I need an escape, and the bed in my room is the safest thing on offer right now.

* * *

Stirring slowly, I can hear my cell ringing in the background. My hand fumbles on the nightstand desperate to silence it. When I finally feel the cold metal in my hands, I bring it to my face and see who it is. Squinting at the screen, I see Evie’s name and picture in front of me. My mind is murky as I swipe to answer, and I’m too tired to remember what day it is.

“Hello,” I say groggily into the phone.

“Rise and shine princess,” Evie chirps into the phone. I hang up, I’m just not up for happy feelings today. The phone rings again almost immediately, I answer it again and sit in silence.

“Geez, who shit in your coffee?” she asks.

“That would imply I’ve actually had coffee this morning. Don’t you have a boyfriend you can annoy this early in the morning?”

“He’s out with Elliot. Speaking of Elliot, how was it after we left last night?”

“Fine.” I pull the phone back while she’s still talking and see it’s nine-thirty in the morning. I feel like a truck has run over me and I don’t feel like dressing up and playing happy.

“Evie, what did you need?” I ask, cutting her off mid-ramble.

“Well, there’s going to be a charity ball for this new organization I’ll be working for. They asked if I wanted to go and make a speech, and of course if I knew people who wanted to attend. I thought it would be great for us to dress up for a worthy cause.” Her pause is on purpose, and I know she wants to say ‘in the memory of your sister,’ but the selfish, angry part of me wants to say ‘fuck it.’ Today I don’t want to do anything for anyone else but me.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course and if you decide you want to come we can go to the mall together and pick out something to wear.”

“How fancy is this thing?”

“Not that fancy, but it’s still an excuse to buy something new. I mean, we won’t be the next Eva Tramell or Anastasia Steele.”

Her perkiness seeps in, even when I didn’t want it to and I laugh loudly at her book references. It still amazes me every day that this is the same woman I watched say nothing to nobody for months. Her humor and personality would’ve been a loss to all who know her. While the pain of losing Renee never eases up, being Evie’s friend often makes up for the wrongs in my world.

“Okay, count me in.”

“Yesssss,” she hisses excitedly through the phone. “Now, I’ll make sure Lior tells Elliot to come.”

“And then you have to mention him and ruin it,” I say feeling like I’m back at square one.

“What? Are we not all friends?”

“We are, I think, but you’re making it sound like a double date, and it’s not going to happen.”

“But why?” she whines. “Everything was heading this way not that long ago. You were sleeping together, you could tolerate being in the same room together. Mom’s wedding was basically a double date. What did I miss?”

“I almost accidentally fell pregnant,” I remind her. “I know you were there for that episode of a day in the life of Crazy Court, and I can’t be plodding around and not taking responsibilities for my actions. I need a plan. A fucking goal,” I say through gritted teeth. “I need to start acting like the adult I am in all areas of my life, not just here at home when I’m wiping up vomit off my mom and having to endure her talking about my sister like she’s alive.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone and I know I just let loose, in the worst type of way. I crossed the line and used Evie as my personal punching bag.

“Evie.” Silence. “Evie, I’m sorry okay. I’m just struggling a little right now, okay?”

“I can hear that.” She lets out an audible sigh before continuing. “Maybe I’m wrong trying to push you and Elliot together, but I remember when that was me. I was scared and you were always there, pushing me out of my comfort zone. And I needed that, I just couldn’t see that from where I was standing. I never thought I would ever smile again. I owe you all my happiness, Court, and there’s nothing wrong with me wanting that for you too.”

I hold in the sob lodged in my throat and wait till I can talk again. “I love you for that, but Elliot isn’t the answer.”

“I think you misunderstood what I meant. You don’t need him to be happy, but he could make you happy. There’s a difference.”

“Maybe.” I breathe into the phone loudly. “Last night he asked me why he was good enough for me to sleep with, but not good enough for us to be friends.” I confide in her about the whole night, the hands under the table, the way I miss him, the disbelief that he could possibly want to get to know someone who for all he knows sleeps with anyone for comfort. And then there’s the point each friendship comes to when you have to bear your soul, and he might not like what he sees. And that would crush me.

I finish up the phone call with Evie and have a million new thoughts running through my mind. First things first, I need to go check up on Mom and see how she’s faring this morning. She is usually at her best at this time. While the bags under her eyes look like bruises and her body awkwardly looks like a bag of bones, she is her most lucid. When she’s not intoxicated or indulging in a fantasy of past lives and happy memories, we can be civil and a glimmer of our old mother-daughter relationship can be seen.

“Morning Mom,” I say as I enter the kitchen. She’s got her back hunched over with the newspaper in front of her and a pen spinning through her fingers while she works on the daily crosswords.

“Hey Honey, the coffee is ready if you want some.”

“Have you eaten?” I ask.

“No, I’m not hungry.” I bite my lower lip and try not to shift the mood too much. So much has already happened this morning.

“When was the last time you ate, Mom?” She doesn’t even bother answering me. “Mom.”

“Oh, last night,” she huffs. I know she’s lying, and instead of arguing I open the fridge and see what I can make. We have eggs, bacon, and sausage. I know she won’t eat it all, but I’ll make it anyway, so she has a selection to choose from. There’s no point trying engaging in any conversation, she’ll speak to me when she’s ready, if at all.

I scramble the eggs and fry the bacon. The smell infuses the house and even if she isn’t excited bacon always puts me in a good mood. Placing it all on a plate, I push it toward her with an accompanying cup of coffee. I take my seat opposite her and dig into my food. Eating in silence isn't new, and by the time I've finished up I hear her silverware scrape along the porcelain dish. Internally, relief floods my chest; but on the outside, my facial expressions give nothing away. I pretend I still have more to eat and watch her like a hawk.

“Anyone told you that you're not subtle?” she says, calling me out.

“Somebody has to do it.”

“I'm not a kid, you know?”

“No? When was the last time you acted like an adult?” The anger and frustration pour out of my mouth before I have a chance to think and stop myself. I don’t want to be having this conversation. It’s pointless. We go around in circles and after so long, I’m worried I’ll say things I can’t take back. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

Rising from the table she folds the newspaper and places it underneath her arm. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.” With her free hand, she grabs her coffee mug and walks out of the kitchen, ending the conversation. As she gives me her back, I know it will be another three or four days before we speak again, and I wonder how long either of us has it within ourselves to watch the remainder of our family crumble.

I clean up the dining table and begin to wash the dishes. The warm water running over my hands calms me down as my mind begins its usual daily loop of worrying. I thought I could do this with Mom forever, that she was my only priority, but Evie is right. I’m not fooling anyone, these walls are closing in on me, and it’s becoming impossible to live with this heaviness forever. I try to envision light at the end of the tunnel, but no matter what I do for myself, I struggle with allowing myself to be happy. The possibility of waking up every day and not dreading the next twenty-four hours is a feeling I can only dream of. Being the martyr in everybody else’s life isn't paying off, it only means I become the enemy in mine.  My obstacles change with me; I’m trying to make myself a life from the bits and pieces the world throws at me, but when I’m here I feel useless. It’s an uphill battle. A battle I have no idea how to fight, let alone win, because how can I smile, be proud, successful, and feel good when my own flesh and blood is so close to dead.