I let out a breath and lean my head on her shoulder. She’s right. Bexley Falls isn’t like other places, or at least I’m assuming so. I’ve never lived anywhere else.
Bexley Falls has been my home my whole seventeen years of life. It’s a small city that houses the rich and elite. Teens drive Maserati’s and Bentley’s, there is no school, only private tutors that report to the state, and all the homes are elegant and lush. No one gives a fuck about your feelings or opinions; all they care about is how much your house cost or what designer shoes you’re wearing.
I sigh again and start softly swaying side to side, following the soft beat humming from behind the closed door, as Carmen floats in and out of consciousness from all the booze she drank.
After a few minutes, a black Escalade pulls up, so I hoist Carmen up and drag her to the car. I push her inside after opening the door then slip in beside her.
Once the SUV starts to roll, I pull my stash of bills from the other side of my bra and lean forward. “I want to drop her at the address I put in, but then I need you to take me to the top of Lexington Way.”
The man just nods as I hand him two one-hundred-dollar bills. I don’t need to explain where Lexington Way is because everyone around here knows it’s the only private road at the peak of the tallest hill.
I settle back into the leather seat and lay Carmen’s head in my lap. As the world passes by outside the windows, I twirl her raven hair around my fingers.
Another few minutes pass before the SUV slows to a crawl in front of Carmen’s house. Her place is more modern than mine. There are three levels of black brick with crystal clear glass along every balcony. A meticulously kept lawn with no decoration or sculptures like most of the homes around here, but it still possesses the same beauty and exudes luxury.
When the car finally stops, I shake her lightly and open the door. “Come on, girlie. You’re home.”
Groggily she sits up then stumbles out of the back and lets me escort her to the door. Immediately, lights flicker on and a voice sounds out from the intercom system as we stop at the top of the steps. “Miss Lydia,” I recognize William’s voice immediately. “I’ll be right out.”
A moment later, the door opens and William, the Schultz’s oldest and most trusted butler, scoops Carmen into his arms.
“I’ll see you next time, William.” I smile as he pulls her inside.
“Yes. Safe travels home.” He smiles over his shoulder.
I salute him as I step backward down the steps, and head back to the waiting SUV. William has always been kind to me, even though most of the time the only time he sees me is when I bring Carmen home drunk. And maybe that’s why he’s so trusted by the Shultzes. He keeps their dirty laundry tightly tucked away and cleans up any messes before they can become a scandal whispered within the streets of Bexley Falls. Because here, the only thing worse than generic things is being the center of a scandal.
And Carmen knows that after the incident with a former tutor/teacher.
I slip back into the SUV and close the door. Slowly, the car starts to move again. I watch as the scenery outside the window starts to morph into more familiar territory. My house sits illuminated in a soft light at the top of the hill, peeking through the trees. When we turn onto Lexington Way, the trees start to grow thicker the further we drive, until finally all the greenery breaks and my house is the only thing sitting in the vast opening.
As the car creeps slowly down the drive, I take in all the recognizable surroundings. The cobblestone laid in an intricate pattern with fastidious care all the way along the driveway. The grass is perfectly trimmed and greener than the most precious emeralds. And our house… Black mulch edges all along the base of the two-story structure with different colored flowers rooted deep within it as ivy stretches up the sides, nestling its way in every crack or crevasse the brick gives—clinging to the side of the house.
I grew up here, it’s the only home I’ve ever known, but for some reason, I feel so disconnected. It doesn’t feel like a home anymore. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older now and realize I’ll have to leave soon. Go to college, make a life for myself, or the fact I know my dad won’t be here anymore. And a home can’t be a home without both parents, right?
It’s only been six months since we got dad’s diagnosis, but it feels like a lifetime. The constant ups and downs in his health, the surgeries, the doctor’s visits… It’s starting to take a toll on me, but I can only imagine how it’s making him feel.
The man pulls around the circle drive, not even bothering to put the car in park as I exit. I follow the curved walkway that leads to the steps. One by one, I take them slowly, only stopping when I reach the top and am met with the eight-foot mahogany door. I take a breath and close my eyes for a second, hoping to release some of the built-up tension in me, before I open them again and push it open.
Once I’m inside, I try to close the massive door quietly. When it clicks closed softly, I lean against the back of it and slip off my heels, trying to let the remnants of my night roll off me. Outside of these walls, I’m no one but an heiress or Carmen’s friend, and inside, I’m the good girl my parents are proud of. There is no in between. And making the switch back and forth is honestly exhausting.
A chill runs up my body as my bare feet hit the marble tiles, but I shake it away then pad further inside. I pass the grand piano that’s positioned in the middle of our first living room, the staircase, and kitchen before I finally make it to the den hidden in the back of the house.
I can already hear the TV buzzing softly before I poke my head around the threshold, so I know dad is awake. “Hey, dad,” I say softly.
His tired blue eyes hit mine and a smile pulls at his lips as he glances at his watch. “It’s almost 3 AM. Did you have fun?”
I step further into the room. “Yeah, it was okay.”
He pats the couch next to him with his frail arms. “Did you drink?”
I almost roll my eyes, but I stop myself. I’ve had sips of beer and other alcohol before, but I’m not much of a drinker. I’m always more worried about watching my surroundings and being the good friend and daughter, everyone knows. And my dad knows that, but he still asks every time I come home. “I didn’t, and I got an Uber home because Carmen was wasted.”
He nods as I sink down next to him on the couch. “You’ve always been such a great friend to her.”
He knows exactly how Carmen is almost as well as me. I mean, she was the talk of the town for months, but she’s been my friend longer, and anytime I feel the need to vent or bitch about her, my dad is the one who listens. He’s not surprised by anything she does anymore and always remarks how good of a friend I am.
“I try.” I laugh.
“No, you do. But let’s not tell your mother. I know she worries when you’re out with Carmen.”
My mom is a saint in every sense of the word. She goes to church every Sunday, prays before every meal, and thanks God for all she has, which is why we don’t tell her exactly the kind of person Carmen is. She knows about the scandal—just like everyone else in Bexley Falls—but we keep me going out with Carmen a secret. As far as mom knows, I only study with Carmen. She doesn’t understand like dad does. He doesn’t care what I do with her because he knows I’m different. I’m his ‘good girl’ who can do no wrong.