Free Breathe into Me by Sara Fawkes

and I frowned. “My mom’s mad at me, and by now my grandma’s probably home, too.” That meant double the trouble, and I was drunk to boot. It was like winning the damned trifecta … except I was sobering up enough to know what I’d won wasn’t worth shit.
    “How about we get you some food?”
    It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, and then I smiled. “Yeah, I’m hungry.” My stomach chose that moment to twist, further underscoring the fact that I was right. Bile crept up my throat.
    Oh, that’s not good
.
    “Come on, there’s a Waffle House just down the road here, maybe we can—”
    And that was the moment I decided to hurl all over his feet.

CHAPTER SIX
    An hour later, all I wanted to do was crawl under the table and die.
    “I’m so sorry I threw up on you,” I moaned for the hundredth time. “And for saying such stupid things.”
    “It’s all right, can’t be worse than some of the stuff I step through every day on the job site. And nothing you said was stupid, so stop beating yourself up. Everyone’s been there.”
    But all I could do was sit there, miserable, going over every detail of the last half hour. Already I wanted to apologize again, but this time I kept my lips closed.
    “Drink some water. It might help; you were probably dehydrated.”
    I’d already had two glasses of water, but dutifully took another sip anyway. “I’m sorry I drunk-dialed you,” I murmured. I was apologizing for something different, so it was okay this time. My head was still buzzing from the alcohol, but shame and mortification at my behavior had dampened the effects.
    “Yeah, I was pretty surprised to see you call. You usually just text.”
    My mood sank further south until he dipped his head so our eyes met. “It was a good surprise, I promise.”
    “Yeah.” I poked again at my rapidly cooling grits, and then took a small bite. The oyster po’boy I’d enjoyed only hours earlier was spread out over the beach and Everett’s shoes. My stomach rumbled for more food, but I was reluctant to listen this time.
    “So what happened with your mom?”
    It was the first real question about my day he’d asked. “We had a fight. She slapped me.” I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see the sudden tears that sprang to my eyes. Apparently I was still buzzed enough not to have any control over my emotions. “She’s never done that before; I didn’t even get spanked as a kid. My grandmother’s used her belt on me before, but my mother never hit me.”
    “I’m sorry, Lacey.”
    I shrugged one shoulder, taking another bite of the grits. Despair welled up suddenly. “I hate my life here.”
    “Then why don’t you leave?”
    “And go where?” I looked up at him, then back down at my bowl. “The only family I have is down here.”
    “What about your stepdad’s family? Can’t you call them?”
    The memory of my grandma Jean flashed through my mind. “No,” I said miserably, “they don’t care about me. I’m not their blood.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’m not really their family. My stepfather adopted me because he had to, but I’m not really his kid.”
    “Who told you that? No man
has
to adopt the child of someone he marries, it’s a choice.”
    I just shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. The memories hurt too much, and I wasn’t up for dealing with more emotion right then.
    We stayed quiet for a couple minutes, and then Everett sighed. “Look, I might know someplace you can stay the night.”
    That old familiar suspicion rose up inside me again. “Where?”
    “There are guest quarters or something behind our house, an entire building all by itself. It doesn’t have a kitchen, but it has at least one bathroom, probably more. To be honest, I haven’t explored it much, but there has to be a bed or couch in there.”
    I thought about it for a moment. “What about Trent?” I asked, wondering why I was looking this gift horse in the mouth. It was a bed for the night, and not in