The early morning sunlight highlighted the missing shingles from the aging roof, and the dirt and grime that streaked the beige stucco. Rust overtook what was left of the terrace gates. Not like anyone ever hung out on their terrace. They were mainly used to hang laundry.
Old man Simpson sat on the stairs leading to the second level, probably just waking up from a late-night binger. He looked around disoriented, but when I passed him by, he raised his hand over his head in greeting.
“Morning,” I said with a smile.
He went to stand and fell back down. I would have helped him up if he didn’t reek of booze and vomit. My community service efforts only went so far. It didn’t matter anyway, he was already snoring.
“Welcome to Paradise,” I uttered, as I made my way to my and Mackenzie’s apartment. The thought of a fresh cup of coffee was the only thing keeping me going. I couldn’t wait to sit down, put my feet up and enjoy my caffeine fix before Mackenzie woke up.
I eased the door open, not wanting to wake her. The last thing I needed was for her to give me shit about working late. Somehow, she would make it about her because everything was always about her. I could stub my fucking toe, and she would find a way to turn it around on her.
Two young guys and a bunch of empty beer bottles were sprawled out on my floor. Hot searing anger rushed through me as I flipped light the switch on and slammed my bag on the coffee table.
“What the fuck is going on in here?!” I yelled, and the kid with shaggy blonde hair jumped up and grabbed his sweatshirt. He had gauges in his ears, and his left eyebrow pierced. His brown eyes took a minute to focus on me, and when they did, I flung my finger to the door. “Out! Out of my fucking house right now!”
“Chill out, dude,” he said, and any restraint I had snapped.
“Chill out, dude?! Are you serious?” I stepped toward him ready to grab him by the collar of his band t-shirt and throw him out the door.
“Nice of you to finally come home,” Mackenzie said from behind me.
I spun to her, hand on my hip, eyes full of rage. She rested her elbow against the doorframe of her bedroom, her pink pajama shorts leaving little to the imagination. “I’ll deal with you later,” I snarled.
“So, you finally show up, and now you’re going to what? Punish me?” Her tone dripped thick with disdain, and then she laughed. I wanted to smack the smirk off her face and maybe I should have. She always bitched about how shitty our lives were after mom and dad died. Maybe she needed to see how shitty life could really be. My fingers twitched with desire, but I clenched my fists and fought the urge.
Blondie bent over and shook his friend awake. Before I could follow through with my plan to toss their asses out the fucking door, they were gone.
“They didn’t even say goodbye,” Mackenzie said with a sigh.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Oh, give me a break. Nothing happened. It’s not like you found them in bed with me having a threesome or anything.”
I rested a hand to my head because I seriously thought it would explode. “You’re sixteen years old. What the hell do you know about threesomes?” I demanded.
She ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair and smiled at me with a smirk that was so much like Mom’s it scared me. “Enough. What happens in Vegas, right?”
I pushed a finger into the bridge of my nose. It was too fucking early to deal with any of this shit, and the last thing I wanted was to have a conversation with my teenage sister about threesomes. With a deep breath, I dropped my hand and scooped up a beer bottle from the carpet.
“Care to explain this?”
“It’s just a few beers. I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of nothing.” She strutted away like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Because it is a big fucking deal. You might think you’re an adult, but you’re not. God forbid something had happened here last night. Do you know who would be responsible? Me. Even if I weren’t here, I’d be at fault. And there is no way in hell I’m going to jail because you feel the need to act out.”
“You’re overreacting. I’m going to take a shower.” She brushed me off. Did she listen to anything I said? “I’m thinking omelets for breakfast,” she said before disappearing into the bathroom.
The door slammed shut, and I slumped onto the stool along the breakfast bar in the kitchen. We didn’t have enough room for a real table, so most of our meals were spent here. I also spent a lot of time sitting here contemplating ways to keep myself from murdering Mackenzie.
She was my sister and I loved her, would do anything for her, but she really knew how to push my fucking buttons. And lately she seemed to be in overdrive.
Growing up, she was as sweet as pie, full of love and laughter. After mom and dad died, everything that made her my adorable little sister vanished, leaving behind a bitter brat who had no regard for others. She wasn’t the only person who lost them though. At least she didn’t have to be the one to take on their parental role. How do you fill shoes so big? It was an impossible task and if anyone were to be bitter it should’ve been me. Not her.
Mackenzie was lucky I didn’t kick her ass out into the streets for this latest stunt. But, brat or not, she was my sister, my responsibility, and all I had left in this world.
So, I took a deep breath and got up to make the princess her breakfast.
***
Twenty minutes later, Mackenzie was sitting across from me, picking at the food on her plate.
“What?” I asked, seeing the complaint brewing on her overly glossed lips.
“The egg is a little dry.”
“Then make it yourself next time.”
“Mom’s eggs were never dry,” she said, getting in another dig.
I wasn’t Mom, never would be, and no one knew that better than me, but Mackenzie found the need to remind me of that every second she could.
“No, they weren’t,” I said, not willing to fuel the fire she was trying to start. She might have thought she was smart, but I knew her games, and I was no longer falling for them.
It seemed to work as she stopped talking and finished eating. When she was done, she stood up and put her plate in the sink, even though we had a dishwasher that was only a foot away.
“Can I have fifty bucks?” she asked.
“Fifty bucks?” I exclaimed. “For what?”
“There’s these new shoes I really want.”
I laughed, unable to help myself. She wanted fifty bucks for shoes when I just had to work an all-nighter so I could make rent. “You know we can’t afford it.”
“You were out all night. I’m sure you made extra money. Unless it was for pleasure.” She narrowed her blue eyes at me and arched an eyebrow.
“No, it was not for pleasure. And for your information, I worked the extra hours so I can pay the rent this month. I have just enough left after that to get groceries for the week. So, I’m sorry but no.”
She threw her arms down and stomped away. “This is bullshit. If Mom and Dad were alive, I’m sure they would give me the money.”
“Yeah, well they’re not. They’re dead so get over it!” I screamed and she came to a halt, turning toward me.
Her blue eyes darkened beneath a buildup of tears. “Nice!” she screeched, and then stormed off to her room.