Shelter

by Stephanie Fournet

  But all at once, my friends’ kindnesses threatened to close my throat. I swallowed hard and took another bite to hide my rattled state, blinking away the sudden wetness in my eyes.

  When it was safe, I cleared my throat. “This is really good, Bree,” I muttered. “Thank you.”

  She moved her half-eaten pastry into her left hand and threw her right arm around my neck, smiling her stoned smile. “You’re welcome, Cole. I love you, too, you know?”

  “Hey!” Louis protested again, stealing Bree’s last bite and tugging on her until her arm fell off my shoulder and she collapsed into him, giggling. I watched, amused — and, yeah, maybe just a little envious — as Bree wrapped her arms around my best friend and leaned into his scrawny little chest.

  Don’t get me wrong. I did not have a crush on my best friend’s girl. Bree was all kinds of awesome, and she was perfect for Louis. She accepted his weirdness, his occasional moodiness, and his lack of shoes and manners with grace and laughter. I didn’t begrudge him that for a second.

  Yet it would be nice to have something like they had. With someone.

  But that was impossible. Now and maybe even for years.

  Louis and Bree might put up with me and Ava shadowing them every weekend, but I knew any girl I’d want to date wouldn’t want my fourteen-year-old sister with us every time we went out. When we could go out, that is. And I would never let her set foot in our house, even when my father wasn’t home, because what if he came back without warning?

  And what if she dropped by one day after school and saw my mom with a black eye?

  I’d gotten better at defending us as I’d grown older — it was why I’d chosen to wrestle in the first place. That, and after I’d gotten suspended a second time freshman year for fighting, Coach Quinn had pulled me aside and told me if I didn’t join the team and find a way to deal with my anger, I’d probably wind up expelled one day.

  I knew he was right. Besides that, after I hit puberty, karate just hadn’t been enough. I’d earned my black belt at fourteen, but karate was all about defense. It was never going to make me big, and skill pitted against strength couldn’t win every time.

  I still couldn’t win against my father every time, but after two years of wrestling, he hesitated more and more before taking me on.

  Even so, I needed a girlfriend like I needed to be kicked in the teeth.

  But as I pulled my gaze away from Louis and Bree who were now lying on the cement, teasing and tickling, feet splashing in the pool, their eyes locked on each other’s, it was impossible not to wish for something I couldn’t have.

  I was pushing myself up from the pool ledge, checking my watch and deciding it was time to find Ava, when Honey, Bree’s sister, burst through the back door.

  “Bree!” she called, running toward us. “Cole! Come quick. Ava’s puking all over the place.”

  Crap.

  I set off at a run, passing Honey. “Where is she?”

  “In my room. We were drinking wine coolers,” Honey said, sounding guilty. “I didn’t realize she’d had five.”

  Shit.

  “Shit.” I heard Louis curse behind me.

  I cleared the porch where Bree’s friends Kat and Marie wore worried looks.

  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.”

  “Fuck,” I bit out, squatting by her side. “Ava? Wake up.” I shook her shoulder, and her eyes fought to open.

  “M-m just… tired,” she murmured, pulling back from the toilet to lean against the wall.

  “Ava… Ava…” I repeated her name, still trying to be quiet, but Ava just waved her hand clumsily to silence me.

  “Just let her sleep, Cole,” Bree said, lifting the filled bucket out of the tub. “At least she’s not puking.”

  I looked at my sister. She had sick in her hair, down her shirt, and on her legs. I didn’t see that a break in her puking was all that great a triumph, but I said nothing. Instead, I dunked the mop into the bucket and got to work on the floor.

  Bree turned to Honey. “We need to get her cleaned up. She can’t get into Cole’s car like that.”

  Honey gav
e her older sister a disgusted look. “I’m not touching her. She was trying — I mean really trying to get herself drunk.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “She got exactly what she deserved, and I’m done babysitting her.”

  I felt a stab of guilt at Honey’s frustrated words. Ava was my responsibility, and I shouldn’t have pawned her off on Bree’s sister.

  “Honey—” Bree had begun to scold, but I interrupted.

  “She’s right,” I said, stopping the exchange before it could start. I turned to Honey. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I should have kept an eye on her.”

  At my apology, Honey blinked in surprise, the fight leaving her. She bit her lip. “I didn’t mean it like that, Cole. Ava’s just…” She sighed. Then her eyes met Bree’s before she looked at her feet. “Sometimes she can be a lot to take.”

  I just nodded, putting my attention back on the mop. I knew exactly what she meant. Ava had never gotten drunk before — as far as I knew — but given the way she made decisions, it was almost a surprise it hadn’t happened already. At home, her emotions got the better of her, but she didn’t dare put a toe out of line. But away from home, away from the shadow our father cast over the house, she was reckless, wild, always running headlong into trouble and talking her weaker-willed friends into stunts girls her age should avoid.

  Like last year when she was in eighth grade. She’d talked a group of girls at a friend’s sleepover into sneaking out and going skinny dipping in the neighborhood association’s pool.

  They hadn’t been caught, but I’d heard about it. And not from Ava. From guys at my school who’d heard it from girls. Who’d heard it from Ava and her friends. I’d wanted to wring her neck for being so stupid.

  What had happened tonight, I knew, had been inevitable. All Ava had needed was the opportunity. I halted my mop and looked back at Honey.

  “Where did y’all get the booze?”

  Honey’s eyes shot to Bree’s, and her chin dipped. “You know how I was taking care of the Jacobs’s dog last week while they were out of town?”

  Bree’s eyes widened. “You didn’t,” she said on a gasp.

  Honey’s mouth crinkled, and she shrugged. “They had whole case,” she defended. “Ava said they wouldn’t miss—”

  “Ava said?” At the edge in my voice, Ava lifted her head from the wall for a fraction of a second before dropping it back again.

  I watched Honey visibly swallow, and she nodded. “She came with me last Tuesday to feed Max, and she started looking around, and…” Honey shrugged again. “…I told her I’d get in trouble, but she said they’d never know, so…”

  Bree’s face had hardened as Honey told her story. “I’ll make a deal with you,” Bree said. “Get Ava a clean shirt, and all of this stays between us.”

  Honey’s nostrils flared as if she was about to fire back at her sister, but then she must have thought better of it because she turned and left the bathroom in a huff.

  Bree, Louis, and I all exchanged glances. I put my eyes back on the task of cleaning up. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, low enough for only their ears. “Maybe Ava and I should keep to ourselves for a while.”

  Beside me, Bree made a noise of protest. “Uh, no. They’re both to blame for this,” Bree said. “Honey’s not as innocent as she looks. Trust me. If she didn’t want to take those bottles, she wouldn’t have taken them.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, but Ava has a way of finding trouble wherever she goes—”

  “So, why not at least find it with friends?” Bree said with finality.

  I looked at Louis and raised my eyebrow at him.

  “I know,” he said, nodding. “I’m not going to screw this up.”

  Chapter 6

  COLE

  Half an hour later, I pulled into our driveway with a passed-out Ava. Bree and Honey had put her in a clean shirt, but she still smelled awful. I killed the engine, went around to her side of the car, and pulled the door open.

  “At least you stopped puking,” I muttered, hoisting her up from the front seat. At first, she was dead weight, but then her limbs fought against me.

  “Mmmm,” Ava groaned. “Cole, put me down. I think I’m gonna be—”

  She heaved once in my arms, and I managed to set her down on her knees in the grass. Ava vomited at the base of an azalea bush, and I thanked God she’d missed me and herself in the process.

  I checked my watch. It was almost midnight. My father’s plane was probably making its final approach even now. I scanned the skies and thought about him up there, looking down. I shuddered and returned my gaze to Ava. She coughed and spat.

  “Done?” I asked. “We can’t stay out here. He’ll be home in like twenty minutes.”

  Ava nodded. “Just get me upstairs to my bathroom.”

  I got her to her feet, but as soon as I did, she doubled over and wretched again.

  “Jesus, Ava.”

  “I’m sorry,” she groaned.

  If she puked upstairs, even behind the closed door of her bathroom, my parents would hear. If Mom got up to check on her, the truth would send her into panic. And I was pretty sure my father could smell her panic. He’d find out for sure.

  I considered my options. There weren’t many.

  The changing room by our pool was probably my safest bet. There was a toilet, a sink, and a shower. It was adjacent to the guesthouse, so we ran the risk of waking Flora, but she’d never turn us in. Of course, she wouldn’t help us either. Not because she didn’t care. Flora ran interference whenever she could, but only when she could make it look like she wasn’t running interference. Tonight, if she heard us, she’d help us by saying nothing, leaving the lights outside off, and acting like everything was normal.

  I swept up Ava in a cradle-hold. “Let’s go to the back,” I whispered.

  She didn’t argue. She just rested her head against my shoulder and held on. For someone whose welfare weighed so heavily on my shoulders, Ava was incredibly light. Carrying her seemed a lot easier than worrying about her. She was only fourteen. How was I going to keep her safe and out of trouble for the next four years?

  And what was I going to do about her after I graduated? That was still a year and a half away, but I knew I didn’t want to stay in Lafayette and go to UL. I wanted to get out so bad. MIT was my dream school, but even if I could get in — and my odds were okay at best — Boston was impossible.

  Tulane was more realistic. Getting in wasn’t the problem. Tuition, I knew, wouldn’t be a problem. My father would salivate over the bragging rights. But going to Tulane would mean I’d still be two and half hours away from Mom and Ava. And that was too far. Hell, LSU was too far. My only hope was finally convincing Mom to leave him. But I’d failed at that for years.

  I sighed as I carried Ava through the back gate. The yard was dark except for the one floodlight off the porch that shone toward the pool and the cement skirting. The sight of the poolside loungers gave me an idea. I could pull a few cushions off the outdoor furniture and make a pallet for Ava in the changing room. That way, she could be somewhat comfortable while we waited for her sober up and feel better. And I could pull a lounger to the door and rest there until she needed me.

  I was tired, and it wasn’t from carrying Ava.

  Leaning my sister against the wall by the changing room door, I ran my eyes over the guesthouse. All of the windows were dark. Flora turned in early, and for all I knew, Elise wasn’t even home. It was rare that I ever saw her, but I once overheard Flora tell Mom that Elise spent most of her weekends at her best friend’s house.

  Within a minute or two, I had Ava settled on cushions, her folded arms on the toilet bowl beneath her head as she groaned. I was carrying a lounger across the patio when a figure in white stepped in front of me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Jesus Christ!” I jumped a foot and nearly dropped the chair, catching it before it could clatter against the cement. “You scared the piss out of me.”

  Elise Cormier sto
od staring at me. In a white cotton nightgown, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and glinting black in the moonlight, she looked like a freakin’ ghost.

  “What are you doing?” she asked again.

  Before I could answer or send her on her way, the sound of Ava retching yet again tore through the yard.

  Elise turned. “Ava? Are you okay?”

  “Elise, wait—” But she ignored me and moved to the changing room.

  “Ava, what’s wrong?” she asked, leaning against the doorsill, the faint light from the changing room falling on her bare arms and feet.

  “Oh, God, I wanna die…” Ava slurred before groaning.

  “Do you want me to get my mom?”

  “No,” I barked, stepping forward and taking her by the elbow. Her arm was small, thinner and lighter than Ava’s. “We’re fine. Just… just go back to bed. We’re sorry for waking you.”

  Elise turned to face me, a slight frown pressing between her brows. “You didn’t. I was already awake, but you’re making noise, so if I could hear you, so can anyone else,” she said meaningfully.

  I nodded to appease her and send her away. “We’ll keep quiet now. You can go.”

  Her frown became a scowl. “I’m just trying to help.” She looked back at Ava. “It’s pretty obvious she’s drunk.”

  “Yeah, and I can handle it,” I argued, my shoulders drawing back.

  “Why don’t you bring her to my room?” She rubbed her bare arms, which I could now see were dotted with gooseflesh. “It’s getting chilly out here, and I have fresh towels and blankets.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but we’re good.”

  Ava coughed and gagged, the sound echoing through the yard. Elise raised a brow at me. “That’s louder than you think.”

  She didn’t have to tell me that. Ava’s heaves split the night’s silence, bouncing off the surface of the pool and the walls of our house. And just as I listened to the silence crowd back in again, the whir of the garage door broke it.