Touch Me While I Taste You

Chapter 4

4

 

 

Arabella Rivera 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Goodmorning Arabella.” Gertrude greeted me as I entered the kitchen. 

 

 

 

 

I wanted to point out that there was nothing good about the morning, especially the day ahead. But of course, I swallowed it down and murmur a soft greeting in return. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re here so early?” I asked, throwing my bag on the island. I fixed myself onto the stool and let my eyes stray to Gertrude. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My eyes drop to stare at the broken wine glass she was quickly sweeping in the dustpan before disposing it into the bin. My stomach drops already knowing without having to ask. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

” Yeah, your mom needed me to come early to clean up.” She answers, pushes a cloth under the running pipe and wrings it before wiping down the spilled red wine on the floor. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“They had a rough night huh?” I asked. It was no secret that my parents never saw eye to eye. 

 

 

 

 

Funny that they complain about the Cross’s while they were no saints themselves. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. At least the Cross’s didn’t hide behind the facade of a perfect family. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gertrude doesn’t answer confirming my suspicion. I should not be surprised, in fact, I wasn’t. This was normal, it was normal. But that didn’t help the lurking anger I felt knowing that my parents never cleaned after themselves. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They treated Gertrude like a slave who should always do their bidding. Yes, she was practically our maid but no one should be worked to the point of exhaustion. ” Maybe one day you should have them clean up their own mess.” I couldn’t stop the hint of anger that slipped when I spoke. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

” Who needs to clean up their own mess?” A hoarse voice speaks. 

 

 

 

 

I looked over at mother who entered the kitchen, fingers pressed to her temples like she had a massive headache. When her eyes fall on me, I took note of how red and swollen they looked. It appeared like she had been crying for hours. At this point, I wouldn’t doubt it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was also dressed in her normal formal attire, white blouse, pencil skirt with deathly high red stilettos and a black Prada bag clutched in her hands. She looked like the epitome of a hot wicked boss whose personal life is falling apart day by day. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In her case it was true. I could vouch for that since I was living in her world. The one where I am supposed to be perfect just like her. Or as perfect as she portrays to be. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

marble surface. She groans rubbing at her temples. ” I have a massive migraine. Can you pour a glass of orange juice for me please

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes Mrs. Rivera.” Gertrude replied and throws the soaked up wine cloth in the sink then walks

 

 

 

 

 

 

dinner last night?” I asked purposely. I observe how both Gertrude and mother stiffen upon hearing my question.

 

 

 

 

” Pour a glass for Arabella as well.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

was allergic to citrus. Then again I should not be surprised, my parents forgot a lot about me or they simply didn’t

 

 

 

 

 

 

before you head to school Arabella.” She sighs grasping

 

 

 

 

what looked like pills from her bag and popped one in her mouth

 

 

 

 

 

 

I said, planning to buy my favorite vegan salad on the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

to the clock on the wall and she turns to me. “Is Gwen picking you up or do you need a ride? I have

 

 

 

 

 

 

designers in our state. I remember the younger me dancing around with the many different materials before I got scolded by her

 

 

 

 

 

 

care back then, because those materials knew more of my feelings than either of my parents. So

 

 

 

 

 

 

with the straps of my bag. “Yes Gwen should be here any second now so no need to drop me off.” It was not like I

 

 

 

 

 

 

more like strangers than being actually related and the only thing connecting us was the blood running through our veins. Besides, a car ride with mother always resulted in an argument about school grades needing to be up. I always lost the argument while she never does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I would really have liked to see you off on your first day being a senior. Like the first day I dropped you off in kindergarten. My perfect little girl is growing before my very

 

 

 

 

 

 

off in kindergarten but Gertrude but I bit my tongue. Surely she’d win that

 

 

 

 

I nodded. “Right.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

off but he got called in at work earlier than expected, he has already left.” She spoke after an awkward pause.

 

 

 

 

 

 

wants

 

 

 

 

 

 

perfect daughter with good grades while they act like the best parents when they’re, not. Sometimes I felt that my parents saw talking to

 

 

 

 

 

 

answer her. Her eyes tear away from me to look at the clock again. ” I should be going now. Arabella don’t stay out late and if anything comes up at school, I’m one phone call away.” She

 

 

 

 

 

 

while pretending to wipe down the countertops, walks over to where mother was a few seconds

 

 

 

 

You know

 

 

 

 

 

 

stare at

 

 

 

 

my phone as I waited

 

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