Summer Heat

Chapter 4

"Do you like the cake, Owen?"

He nodded, continuing to eat his second piece. "Yes. It's good."

Grace smiled at him, but it was a sad one. Then, to her husband, she said, "I think I'm going to go up to bed now, Andrew."

"Hmmm?" He was bent over the cake, cutting himself another piece. "Oh, sure. Goodnight, Grace."

"Goodnight. And happy birthday, Annabel. I hope you had fun tonight."

"I did," Annabel assured her mom as she slid her piece of cake onto Owen's plate as she was full. Owen, who was leaning against the counter, smiled, happy that he had more cake. "Thank you for taking me out to dinner, Mom."

"Of course."

"Thanks," Owen spoke up then, smiling over at his girlfriend's mother. "For letting me go."

She just smiled at him before heading off up the stairs. The second she was gone, Andrew went and grabbed a beer to go along with his second piece of cake, grumbling something about missing some of a baseball game under his breath.

It was after Annabel's birthday dinner and everything was kind of dying down. After they finished their cake, Annabel and Owen were allowed to leave, but so far, Owen's had made no notion of doing so. Not that they had anywhere to go anyways. Nowhere, but his house. His empty house…

"I didn't mean to make you miss the game, Dad," Annabel said as she went to put her plate in the sink. When she passed her father though, he just reached out with his free hand, hugging her from the side.

"You only turn eighteen once, Annabel." Letting her go, he headed to the living room. "You guys going out?"

Owen kept eating his cake, letting Annabel answer.

"We're going to Owen's house. He has my gift there."

"Two, Annabel. And I will be up, waiting."

"I know, Dad."

"Alright then."

It took another twenty minutes for them to get out of the house. Annabel had to go upstairs and change first into jeans and a t-shirt while Owen devoured more cake. He loved that cake. It was store bought and amazing. Expensive too. Great.

"You wanna get ice cream?" Owen asked Annabel once they were pulling away from her house. "Or something?"

"Bear, I'm not hungry." She patted her stomach. "I could hardly finish my cake.'

"Man, that cake was great. Best cake ever. I love that cake."

Giggling, she said, "You can get some more tomorrow when you come over."

"It's such a big cake," Owen gushed. "Like, that has to be the most expensive cake in the world."

"Well, I doubt that."

"I can't think of a better cake I've ever eaten."

"Bear, chill."

"God, it almost make me want to knock you up."

She faulted. "What?"

"Yeah. Then I could be over there all the time."

"…I think you have poor reasoning skills."

"Think about it, Bell. Then I would have your birthday to eat cake and the baby's."

"Yeah, if I get pregnant, something tells me that you won't be coming around my house much anymore. Call it intuition, but-"

"Please, your parents love me."

"Yeah, sure."

He smiled at her. "Anyways, no ice cream?"

"No ice cream. At least I don't want any."

"That's fine." He reached over with one hand, laying it on her thigh. "Let's just get to my house, huh? Everyone's out. It'll just be us."

"What did you get me for my birthday?"

"You'll find out soon."

"It's not more jewelry is it?"

"No."

"A shirt?"

"Yeah, Bell. You're eighteen and I got you a shirt. Aren't you excited?"

"Shut up, Bear."

"God, Bell. A shirt? Really?"

"I said to shut up."

"You're so abusive towards me."

"Yeah, well, life happens."

He laughed slightly, smiling over at her. "I love you, Annabel."

"I know."

"I'm in love with you too."

"Ooh, word play."

"Yeah, well."

Annabel sighed, leaning her head against the car window. "Wanna go buy cigarettes?"

"…I thought you already told that joke?"

"I could now. Buy cigarettes." She looked at him. "When you turn 21, you go out and buy beer, right? Why can't I see if I like smoking?"

"Because I don't like smoking. It stinks, it makes other things stink, and it'll make your breath taste bad. Not to mention it's an expensive addiction. So no, we're not going to get cigarettes."

"What about cigars?"

"Annabel."

"I just…I'm eighteen today. I'm adult. And what commemorated that? Going out to dinner with my parents? Like always?" She humphed. "I don't even feel like an adult yet."

"Well, you could always get arrested and get sent to real jail instead of juvie. That's adult."

"Bear, stop it."

"What else would you do, Annabel? Huh?"

"I'm just…disappointed."

"Yeah, well, the night's not over yet, okay?" Reaching over, he began to stroke her thigh now. "Besides, your parents gave you five hundred dollars. That's a freaking lot."

"I know."

"Then stop bitching."

"Owen-"

"I'm just..." He shook his head.

It wasn't lost on him that for his 18th birthday, his mother would bake him a vegan, nasty cake, Mallory would give him some stupid poster of a band he didn't really like, but would have to pretend to, and that would be that. Sure, Cam might give him ten dollars or his dad might send him a card, but nothing like what Annabel would be getting. His grandmother might send him a twenty and maybe his other grandparents and his step-grandmother might send him a shirt or shoes or something, but not five hundred dollars. And she was mad that she didn't 'feel' eighteen?

"You just what?"

"It's just different for me, okay? If I got five hundred dollars-"

"It's not about the money, Owen."

"It is though. For me."

"Then let's just not talk anymore." She pushed his hand off. "You always try to make me seem spoiled or something."

"You do a pretty damn good job of it yourself."

"Fuck you, Owen. God. If it's always going to bother you that my father's well off and likes to do things to me, then maybe you should just-"

"Shut up."

"You can't-"

"Just shut up." Owen reached forward, turning up his stereo. "I don't want to listen to you anymore."

"And like I want to listen to you? You're, like, so freaking random it's not even funny. You go from fine to angry in the blink of an eye. God, you're fucking mental."

"Oh, I'm mental? The girl that just got five hundred dollars for doing nothing, but making it to eighteen and is upset about it is telling me I'm crazy. Okay. Makes sense."

"Take me back home. You're an asshole."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. You're a jerk and I hate you. I fucking hate being around you half the time."

"Annabel-"

"I do. I hate it. So much. You always feel the need to make me feel bad, like that's the only way you can be happy." She wouldn't look at him now. "You're the worst boyfriend I've ever had."

It was silent after that, save the screaming that was coming out of Owen's speakers. No, not a screamo band, but actual screaming. Wailing, really. Annabel usually would have asked the relevance of it, but there was no way she was now. She didn't ever want to speak to him again.

"Get out," he said when pulled up to his house. "Now."

"No. Take me home."

"No, Annabel. We're going inside and-"

"Take me home or I'll walk home."

"The fuck you will." He got out of his car. "Get inside. Now."

"I-"

"Now."

She didn't want to, but really had no other option. There was no way she was really walking home. "Owen, I don't want to be around you. Especially not when you're angry."

"You can get the fuck over it."

"If you're going to keep yelling at me-"

"I'm going to give you your damn present and then you can go home, since you hate me so much. Since I'm the worst boyfriend ever. You know, since I all I've ever done is love you and everything, so it makes total sense."

"Owen-"

"It's so freaking hard, Annabel, every day, to deal with you. You get that? Do you?" He shoved his key in the lock before opening the front door into the dark house. "You're such a fucking tease."

"Oh, whatever. I've never told you I would do anything. I haven't 'teased' you with anything. You're just the stupid horny little loser that has no life. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be jacking off to porn when your mommy's out. Asshole."

"Fuck you."

He didn't mean to do it. Still, when he got to his bedroom, he planned on slamming the door behind him…only Annabel was also coming behind him.

"Damn it, Owen!"

"What? Wh- Oh my god." He rushed to her. "Did you get hit? Are you okay? Oh God. Did it hit your nose? Are you bleeding? Let me see. Come here. Come-"

Annabel waved him off. "You just hit my face. My God, Owen, you-"

"I'm sorry." His anger melted into regret. Now he had hurt her. She really was going to hate him now and not talk to him anymore and break up with him and then what? Then Rolly would be right. And what could he do? Annabel could get another boyfriend easily, one with money and a life and a nice car and a good job and that was actually going somewhere. She could have it all. She was-

"Are you…Owen, I'm the one that got hit. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not," he grumbled, shaking his head as he took a step back. Coughing, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" She raised an eyebrow, watching his eyes. "'cause you look like you're going to start-"

"I'm just angry, okay? You just…you make me so angry." He took another step away from her. "How can you break up with me?"

"Owen-"

"It's not fucking fair! I do everything for you and then you-"

"Calm down."

His anger was returning now as he paced the room. "You calm down! I was calm. This is all your-"

"Is this my gift?" Annabel was like a normal person and easily distracted from her anger. They'd had it out and now she was in a cool down period. She'd told him how much she hated him and even gotten to curse at him. She was fine now.

"Don't touch my stuff."

"It's mine now. Besides, I thought you'd give me anything?" She picked the box off his desk. "This is the poorest excuse for wrapping I've ever seen."

That couldn't be true though, as he hadn't wrapped it, at all. Instead, he had just put all of the things in an old cardboard box in the garage. Presentation wasn't his thing. It was the thought that counted, after all.

Owen didn't say anything as Annabel took a seat on the floor in front of his bed, the box in front of her. When she looked up at him, she didn't speak, but he knew what she was asking. She wanted to know if she could open it. Owen just walked around her, to her stereo.

"Owen," Annabel whispered. When he glanced behind him, he saw that she had taken his silence as a yes and opened the box. The first thing she pulled out was the folded up piece of notebook paper he had put in there, his version of a card.

"Don't even read it. Now that you hate me, why does it even matter?"

"I don't hate you, Bear," she whispered, her eyes glued to the paper.

"Yeah, well, you-"

"Oh my God, I love you." She looked up from the paper after she finished reading it. "I love you, Owen. So much."

"No, Annabel. You can't-"

"I do though." Then, quoting the paper, she said, "'I like the way your voice sounds when you're upset, I like the way you hit me in the arm and stomach and never once think that I'll hit you back, and I love the way you pretend to like music for me when you really don't.'"

"I wrote the note. I don't need to hear it again."

She ignored him. "'I like when you sleep in my bed, even though I get teased by Mallory for how it smells after. I used to think a lot about hurting myself, back in Arizona, but now I don't have to, 'cause I have you. You're the best friend I've ever had, even though sometimes you can get under my skin. Even when you do, which you do a lot, I can't help, but to think about how much I love you for it. At least you care enough to bother with me. No one else does anymore.'"

There was more to the note of course, a lot more really, but her point had been taken. Owen was facing her again, but was looking off, not wanting to see her face. Annabel was staring right at him though.

"It wasn't supposed to be like that," he told her softly. "I mean…I didn't want you to tell me that just because-"

"I've loved you for awhile, Bear," she interrupted. "I just never said anything because you made it so clear you didn't want me to, that you were going to be the only one saying it. Which is fine, I guess, but I just wanted you to know. 'cause I do love you."

"You said you hated me. You said-"

"I say a lot of things that I don't mean. I just got angry wit you, that's all. You were being mean to me for no reason."

No, there was a reason. Still, Owen just slowly went to go sit down with her.

"Owen," she whispered moving so she was leaning into him. "I'm going to be who I am. Always. My dad makes money. Nice money. I'm sorry that your parents marriage didn't work out and that your dad doesn't live with you guys or make good money. That's not my fault though. And if I sound bratty sometimes, fine, but you sound self-loathing sometimes too. We can play the pity game all we want, but at the end of the day, we are who we are."

He just sat there, letting out a slow breath. "You're not a brat."

"I can be," she told him. "I admit it. I'm not, like, too bratty though. But I am spoiled to some degree. We all are."

He shifted slightly so that he could look at her. "You didn't even look at the rest of your presents."

"I don't need those," she whispered to him as she leaned up to kiss him. "Only you."

As he rested his forehead against hers, Owen could still feel his hands shaking, his adrenaline still pumping from the argument they had had. He was still upset, but…but what?

"Bear," she whispered, staring into his green eyes. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."

"I'm not a little kid."

"Adults have feelings. Like me, now that I'm eighteen. And so do children, such as yourself."

"Ha ha." He poked her gently into the stomach, trying to be playful. "I, uh, meant what I said though. In that note."

"It's very nice." She looked down at the piece of notebook paper laying on the ground beside them. "Thank you for it."

"That's not it though. There's more."

"I'm aware." She glanced back into the box. When she turned to look back at Owen though, he kissed her this time, slowly moving to drag her into his lap. That's as far as that went though as suddenly his bedroom door opened.

"Owen, did you-"

"The hell?" Owen and Annabel jumped apart, him honestly scared for his life. He had thought no one was home. The car was gone, all the lights were off. How the heck was he supposed to know his sister was home?

"Mallory?"

"What? God, why did you yell? And why is your light off?" She turned it on, though she wasn't shocked to see Annabel there. "I just wanted to ask if you'd heard from Mom. She left me here at, like, seven and hasn't been back home yet."

"No," he complained as Annabel settled away from him, straightening herself. Owen would kill Mallory for making him miss her adjusting her boobs. He really would. "Why did she leave you?"

"I don't know. She said that her and Cam were going out."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You said not to, that you were out with Annabel for her birthday." Then, suddenly remembering the other person in the room, Mallory squealed, "Happy birthday, Annabel!"

"Thanks," Annabel said, managing to smile at the younger girl, but it was hard. Her heart was still pounding, though if it was from the fight, what she was hoping Owen was going to do to her, or from Mallory scaring them she wasn't sure.

"I'll call Mom," Owen told his sister. "Or Cam or whatever."

"I have called. They don't pick up."

"Oh, they'll pick up for me," he insisted. "Go back to bed. Did you need something? I'm home now, for awhile anyways. And only then do I have to take Annabel home."

"No," Mallory told him. "I just wanted to know if you knew where they were."

"They're fine," he told her. "Go to bed, huh? I'm sure you have a doctor's appointment in the morning."

"I do not."

"Well, go to sleep anyways. You look tired."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Not if you would just willingly go."

That got Owen a glare. Then perking up slightly, Mallory called out, "Bye, Annabel."

"Goodnight, Mallory," she said, smiling at her once more.

When it was just the two of them in the room again, Owen got up and turned off the light before taking his place next to his girlfriend. She was now distracted from whatever they were going to do, instead focused on her present. Owen watched her for a moment as she opened the box again before pulling his phone out and calling his mother.

"Wow, Bear."

"Mmmhmm."

"You made me CDs," she said, pulling a few out of the, no joke, twenty something in there. All filled with stuff he knew she liked, not stuff he hoped to one day sway her into enjoying. "How did you know that I like Pop Rocks?"

"Who doesn't like Pop Rocks?"

"And jellybeans."

"You always eat those, when you eat candy."

She kept pulling stuff out of the box. "What's the chain for?"

He still had the phone to his ear, but reached over with his other hand and grasped her hand with his ring on. Gently pulling it off, he sat it in her palm.

"You can wear Kirsten's ring," he told her quickly, still distracted by waiting for his mother to answer. "You can wear my ring on that."

"Oh."

"I just…think that's best. So you always wear- Mom?" He tuned Annabel out as the person on the other line picked up. "Where are you?"

"Owen, I'm…can you call back later?"

"No," he said, frowning. "You left Mallory home alone and-"

"She's nearly in high school."

"And? She's sick."

"I just left for a few hours."

"She said that she called you and Cam and you didn't pick up."

"We left our phones in the car, Owen, that's all."

He heard it then, his aunt's signature laugh. Her drunk laugh. Oh God.

"You went out partying and left her home alone? How stupid-"

"Owen," Annabel whispered, reaching over to rub his thigh again. She knew that he had recently lost his filter and didn't want him to get in trouble with his mother for it. "Calm down."

He shut his eyes. "Mom, Mallory could have needed something. Something serious. And if I was out and you were out, drunk, then what? Huh?"

"Don't you talk that way to me, Owen."

He couldn't though, talk to her. Not anymore. Instead, he just hung up before turning his phone off. See how she liked it.

"Owen," Annabel whispered as he tossed his phone onto the bed above them. "Are you-"

"Your presents," he said, nodding at the box before taking the ring and chain out of her hand. "Finish your presents."

"Are you okay?"

"Presents, Annabel."

There were two DVDs in there, each chick flicks that he knew she loved. Then there were some cookies that he had made; he had even gone as far as to frost them. It was so cute. Also in the box was a liter of her favorite soda and goggles.

"I love it. All of it. But…the goggles?"

Owen just watched as stared down at them. "Aviator goggles. AN-6530."

"Hmmm?"

"That's what they're called." He reached into the box and pulled them out. "They were my grandpa's. He gave them to me when I was a kid. He was in the second world war."

"Really?"

"Mmmhmm. He was a pilot."

"I've never known either of my grandfathers."

Owen gave her the glasses. "That sucks."

She just looked at him, frowning slightly. "Bear, if these mean a lot to you-"

"They do."

"-then why are you giving them to me?"

"Because, Annabel," he began, pulling her into his arms. "You mean a lot to me too. So much. I like giving you things that are important to me because you're important to me. I'd give up everything for you."

Leaning against him once more, she said, "I'm sorry I told you I hated you."

"It's okay."

"I don't hate you," she sighed, rubbing his thigh. "I love you."

He smiled slightly in the dark, not used to anyone outside of his family telling him that. It almost made him blush. Almost. "I love you too, Annabel."

"This is probably the best gift ever." She sat the goggles to the side before pulling the baggie of cookies out. "You want one?"

"Mmmhmm."

Pulling one out, she broke it in half before eating part and leaning up towards him, feeding him the cookie. Owen smiled at them while Annabel just shifted to sit back again. Owen turned to her then, putting the chain with the ring around her neck before clasping it on.

"There. Now you'll be mine, tape or no tape."

Annabel just stared up at him. "I'm yours, ring or no ring."

He kissed her then, shifting to lay her down on the ground. Annabel resisted though, turning her head.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Your sister's home and up."

"We can just make out," he told her, kissing her head this time. "If you want. It's your birthday, after all."

"So we get to do what I want."

"Exactly."

"I'm a little afraid of October then."

"Hmmm?"

"When it's your birthday, I'll have to do whatever you want. Right?"

Owen shook his head slightly. "I just like making you feel good."

"Mmmm."

He stood up then before moving to lay down on the bed. Annabel smiled, quickly moving to get up there with him.

"I don't think you're spoiled, Bella," Owen said as she snuggled into his chest. "And if you were, that's fine. It just…bothers me. I don't mean for it to."

"I know, but-"

"I want to be able to buy you things too. I want to be able to take care of you too. It's not fair."

She frowned. "Then…you're not jealous?"

"No. I mean, I get tired of you sometimes, the way you act with money, but I'm not jealous of you." He looked up at the ceiling. "I just…I'm never going to make that kind of money, Annabel. I'm not smart, I'm not going anywhere, I'm not-"

"You're not going to just sell pizzas for ever, Bear."

"I know that," he told her. "But I'm never going to get a good job."

"Only because you've already decided that. Owen-"

"There's no point it. I don't want to work for some business or something like that."

"That's not all college will give you." She stare up at him. "You can take radio class. Or-"

"I don't have money, Annabel."

"There's scholarships, there's-"

"You're just like a stupid teacher."

"I am not."

"You are too." He shifted some so that he was sitting up slightly. "You know how many people go to college, Annabel? And you know how little good it does for most people? What crappy jobs they get anyways? It doesn't matter, not unless you're insanely talented at something. You're still going to work at a dead-end job that you hate. You're still going to wish every day that you were dead. That's how life is."

They were both quiet for a minute or two, Annabel not knowing what to say to make him think differently and Owen not knowing why he felt the need to tell her that stuff to begin with. What did it change?

"I just want to be with you," Owen finally added. "For the rest of my life. I don't want to do anything else. I don't want to work. I don't want to go to school. I don't want to do anything. Everyone else says that I'm, like, crazy or obsessed with you, but I just…I love you."

"I know, Bear."

"And I…I know what Mom would say, about how I do this, how I get really, really into something and then, when I don't feel that way anymore, I get depressed, but this feels different with you. Everything feels different with you." He shook his head slightly. "I don't…I just don't know anymore, Annabel."

"It's okay."

He just let out a long sigh. "I fucked up your birthday, didn't I?"

"No."

"Bell."

"Just a little."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She patted his chest. "What's the point of a birthday if it's not memorable?"

He shut his eyes. "I have to get you home by two. Don't forget."

"I won't."

He smiled then. "Two in the morning. God. It's like your dad wants us to mess around."

"Shut up."

"It is though. I mean, God, the closer we get to two, the less I want to take you home." He stroked the back of her head. "I want you to stay here with me."

"Bear."

"I know."

"I love you," she told him, laughing slightly. "And I don't think you're creepy or weird or any of that. It'll get better, Owen. It has to."


When Owen left the house to take his girlfriend home, his mother still wasn't there. Even when he returned, she was out. Mallory had long fallen asleep though, so Owen decided all was fine. He did one more check of his sister and put out food for the stray cat they fed before heading off to bed. Or, well, to call Annabel.

There wasn't much for the two of them to say to each other. Everything that hadn't been spoken that day had either gotten out in actions or been show in that note he left for her. Still, it was ritual by now for them to speak to each other before going to bed. Not to mention, the night was finally over. Annabel's birthday was done. She had survived her first day as an 18 year old girl. Now all she had to do was survive the next 364.

"Where do you get off, Owen Armstrong?"

By that point, Owen was sleeping in bed, though he had not been like that long. That was the main reason his mother's low voiced accusation woke him.

"Huh?" He peeked his eyes open, looking around. It was still dark in his room, but he could make out his mother's shadowed figure in his doorway, leaning heavily on the doorjamb. "Mom?"

"Calling me, like you're the adult! What is wrong with you? You stupid little boy."

"Are you drunk?" She wasn't slurring her words, but it was obvious that she was intoxicated. This was the way she was, back when she used to drink, back in Arizona. Wine, always wine.

"Don't you talk to your mother that way."

"Are you serious right now?" Owen got up then, not caring that he was only in his boxers. "Mom-"

"You know how…how…embarrassing that was?" She trying to move towards him, but almost fell forward. Owen quickly went to steady her, but the second his hands were on her, Teresa slapped him. "Keep your hands off me!"

Now, Annabel hit Owen from time to time. Rather hard, he might add. However, being slapped was much different. He hadn't been slapped in years. Years. It stung. Owen let her go, backing away from her as he reached a hand up to his face. His mother caught herself, leaning heavily on his dresser. When she saw him standing there, holding his face, her drunken remorse began.

"Oh, honey," she cooed, pushing off the dresser towards him. "I'm so…so…so sorry. Owen…Owen…Come here. Come-"

"Get away from me," he whispered, just watching her now, no longer even rubbing his cheek. "Get out of my room."

"Baby-"

"Get out!" He hadn't wanted to shout, as he didn't want to wake his sister, but it seemed the only way to get through to her. "Now!"

She looked so hurt, staring at him. Still, he just stood there, waiting until she was out of his bedroom before locking the door.

What the hell just happened?


"She hit you?"

"Yeah," Owen sighed.

"Bear…do you need to come over?"

"She's asleep now, Annabel."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It was last night," he said, shifting his phone to the other ear as he kept scrambling his eggs. "She'll probably sleep all day."

"Mallory still in bed?"

"Yeah. I'm just up, making breakfast."

"Do you need me?" she asked.

"I'll always need you," he told her. "But I think, right now, it's best if I just stay here alone, make sure everything turns out okay."

"I don't want her hitting you."

"She just slapped me."

"When my dad slapped you, you were ready to strangle him."

"Well, you're a girl. A woman. He's a man. He needs to keep his hands off you."

"Owen-"

"Don't get me worked up again."

That got her to giggle like he wanted. "Are you okay? For real?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Do you want me to let you go then?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, not caring that she couldn't see it. "I want you to keep talking to me."

"'kay. What do you want to talk about?"

"Mmmm…I dunno."

"Well," she began slowly. "I can't wait till you get over here later or tomorrow or whenever."

"Why?"

"So I can feed you more cake."

"Feed me, huh?"

"Mmmmhmm."

"Hand feed me?"

"If that's what you want."

"By the pool?"

"What is up with you and the pool, huh?" She sighed. "It's like that all you want me for anymore."

"No, that's not the only thing."

"Bear."

"What?" He was smiling though and she could tell from his voice. "I just meant I want you because I like spending so much time with you."

"Oh, whatever."

"I do. And I always will."

Annabel let out a long sigh. "I'm bored, Bear. You sure you don't want to come over?"

"Lunch, okay? We can eat lunch at your house."

"You want me to make us something?"

"Sure," he said. "Around noon?"

"That's good. I'll have to go to the store though."

"It's only…" He looked around to find a the kitchen clock. "It's only seven. You have time. Unless you wanna make it dinner…?"

"Lunch sounds okay. I can be quick at the store. Just something simple." She paused then. "I have to go though. I'm gonna go shower now, before I go to the store. I'll see you when you come over, huh?"

"Yeah, see you then."

"Bye."

"Bye."

After he hung up, Owen took his eggs with him into the living room to eat while watching TV. He stayed there, watching cartoons even after he finished eating. He only had one summer left and it was this one. Should he spend it doing fulfilling or something more important, like cartoons? It was an easy choice, honestly.

"Owen?"

At that point, he was lounging on the couch, rotting his brain while texting Annabel on his phone. The mere sound of his mother's voice startled him though and caused him to look up.

"Mom?"

She had a hand to her head and looked rather ragged. She was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, clearly having slept in them, and her hair was a mess.

"I have the worst headache," she told him. "I have to go back to bed. Can you watch your sister today?"

He blinked. Was she not even going to mention last night? …Or did she not even remember it? Pretending, maybe?

"I'm going over to Annabel's for lunch."

She let out a loud groan. "Owen, I'm sick. Can you please-"

"Mom, you're not sick, you're hung over. And Mallory was fine when you left her last night all alone so you could get drunk."

"Excuse me?" She meant for it to come out in an authority way no doubt, but she was failing. "How dare you-"

"You slapped me last night for no reason! All I did was try to help you stand up and you slapped me! How dare I? How dare you!"

"Owen, wait. I don't…Cam thought it would be a good idea if I went out. I haven't been out in a long time-"

"And?" He was up now, cartoons that last thing on his mind.

"Your father gets to do whatever he-"

"Why can't we ever talk about something other than Dad? Huh? Dad's not here, he's not gonna suddenly be here, and you have to live with that." Owen knew he was yelling now, but it was better than hitting something…right? "You chose to keep us. You chose to take us out of Arizona. You made that choice, so you have to live with it. No one else, but you."

"Oh, whatever. Like your father really wanted you?" Teresa was spitting venom now, but it was true venom, the only kind her son dealt in. "Why do you think it was so easy to move you here, Owen? Up north? He didn't want you guys with him and he still doesn't. That's why you never see him. He never wanted kids and he definitely never wanted you. He jumped at the chance to get rid of us all."

There was so much to say to that. So much. But Owen couldn't. Because…how do you fight the truth?

"I'm going to Annabel," he said finally, heading to the door. He made sure to grab his boots as he passed by them.

"Oh no, you're not."

"Oh, yes, I am. Who's going to stop me? Dad doesn't care, right? And you're just as drunk as you used to be."

"Owen-"

It felt good to slam the door behind him. For a little while anyways. Ten minutes later, when he was knocking on a different door, it felt horrible.

"Bear, it is not noon-"

"I need you."

Annabel was standing there, her arms crossed, ready to scold him for his inability to be punctual. Something in his voice though, maybe the quiver, maybe the tone, made her stop though.

"What happened?"

"Everything. Just like always. It all happens at once."

Uncrossing her arms, Annabel quickly moving to grasp his hands and pull him into the house. "Mom's asleep, but Dad's out in the garage. Just don't wake Mom, okay?"

He just followed along as she led him to the kitchen. He saw the bags from her shopping trip on the table, but she just led him over to the counter, which she immediately jumped up on.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong?" she asked, staring at him. Owen just leaned down, resting his head against her shoulder.

"I just needed you. That's all."

"Silly Bear, can't you remember anything?" She ran a hand across his head, the silver chain around her neck rattling against the ring attached to it as she did so. "You'll always need me."