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Love Always, Mia

Page 13

by Cecily Wolfe

Just because she hasn’t taken my phone away doesn’t mean she can’t use it against me in some way, so I have to be careful.

  My hands shake, and I hold back a nervous bark of laughter.

  No one would ever suspect I would run away, or have any idea where I would run to.

  I don’t even know where we should go.

  But Eli is smart and resourceful, so he’ll have some ideas.

  let’s go

  I hold my phone so close to my face, waiting for him to respond, the screen fogs up with my short breaths.

  where

  I'm surprised he's answering, but maybe his parents are trusting him not to use his phone under their ban instead of taking it from him.

  Disregarding the chance our parents will look at our texts, I go ahead and tell him.

  doesn’t matter. anywhere but here.

  I wait for the space of a couple of long heartbeats before I continue.

  for good

  Chapter Twenty One

  Eli has to have some good ideas of where we can go, and I’m getting excited at the prospect of an adventure with him.

  It won’t be easy, and we’ll have to figure out where we can stay and how we’ll get money.

  Both of which aren’t small problems to deal with, the practical part of me tries to burst my bubble with a reminder.

  Time stretches out, and I wonder if Eli’s thinking of places, or of ways, we could manage.

  My parents keep some cash in a safe in their bedroom closet, and while I don’t know the combination . . .

  no

  This single word interrupts me as I realize I’m considering stealing from my parents.

  That can’t ever be right.

  Can it?

  Before I can answer Eli, wondering how those two letters can hold such power over me, a rush of words comes through, and I rest my phone on my knees, watching the screen fill with his thoughts.

  But all I see is rejection.

  No, no, and no.

  There are reasons.

  An accusation: Aren’t I already running?

  What does that mean?

  I let the phone slide down on the bed beneath me, into the puddle of pink cocoon.

  I already have a counselor, but thanks anyway.

  I think this, but I don’t actually type it out.

  He has to mean well.

  It’s Eli, after all.

  But wouldn’t the Eli I know jump at the chance for an adventure?

  Excitement?

  Anything that might get him into more trouble?

  Why does he do that, anyway? With two great parents and a home life I would give everything for . . .

  why no

  why do you need the attention

  As soon as I hit send, I want to take it back.

  Yes, I need to know why he isn’t on board with leaving.

  We don’t have to do it as a couple, if he’s thinking that.

  If he thinks I’m rushing us into something he doesn’t want.

  Have I misread him? After Josh, I know I’m not good at that, and I don’t want to mess this up.

  I don’t want to scare him off.

  But I want to know why he is the way he is.

  It makes no sense to me.

  My mother’s voice interrupts the silence of the house, and she stomps up the stairs, clearly annoyed.

  “No visitors, Mia. I’m allowing you to keep your phone, only because you need to be in touch for school purposes. I’m lobbying for you to be able to complete your homework and exams while you’re suspended, but I will not allow social time. You’re being punished.”

  It’s too early for Megan to be here, I consider. Besides, she is bringing something school-related over.

  “Your boyfriend is here, and I want you to make yourself presentable and explain to him I’m not going to turn him away again. I just won’t open the door.”

  Sounds mature.

  Classy.

  I call out okay and scramble off the bed, both eager to get this over with and dreading Josh’s mood.

  He won’t be nasty to me, not with my mother standing by.

  Under that condition, though, I wish he would.

  I also need to tell her he’s not my boyfriend anymore.

  Going against what she’s demanded, I don’t bother to adjust my hair or wash my face.

  Josh is going to get me at my worst, in every possible way.

  He looks me up and down, then frowns with obviously exaggerated concern.

  “You seem really stressed, Mia. Let me know if I can help.”

  I narrow my eyes at him as my mother interrupts.

  “I’m sorry, Josh, but she’s not allowed any visitors while she’s suspended. You can text and call, but that’s it. I won’t let you inside my house again.”

  He swivels his head around to smile at her charmingly.

  But she’s not buying it.

  She liked him once, but was wary.

  Is she thinking of Paul, of how he stalked Kayla?

  The word filters through my thoughts as I frown.

  They did love each other, but if I’m remembering the interactions I witnessed, of how she begged him for time, for space, and his physical and emotional reactions to her pleadings . . .

  I jump when Josh touches my arm gently, with a possessiveness my mother can’t see.

  But I can definitely feel.

  He drops his hand and stares at me, catching my eye as his grow wide.

  “I mean it, Mia. I know we haven’t been getting along . . .”

  “What? Whatever is going on, it’s time for you to go. You’re both too young to be dating seriously enough for you to look at her like that, Josh.”

  Josh’s hand is hovering in the air by my elbow, but my mother shocks us both by smacking it down.

  His pout makes me smile , my mother’s action pleasing me in a way I’ve never felt before.

  Is she defending me?

  Chastising me?

  Whatever she’s doing, it feels like it’s for my benefit.

  As if she actually cares about me.

  Josh doesn’t look back as she steers him to the door and reminds him not to come back.

  Once he’s outside, he stands still, staring out into the street.

  He’s still there when the door closes behind him, as close to a slam as it could be without actually banging against his back.

  “Children these days are in a hurry to grow up. All of this romance business. It wasn’t good for your sister, and it isn’t good for you.”

  My mother steps by me, her slippered feet barely scraping along the floor, and I reach out, nearly touching her.

  I haven’t heard her mention Kayla in years, and I want to hold onto her, to whatever is going on inside her head that has called up my sister, to hold it still for a few more moments, to hear her say more.

  But she doesn’t, and I keep my distance, as always, in spite of the desperation that fills my chest.

  “Back upstairs with you. I know you’ll have others coming by. Just be prepared to make it quick, and only about schoolwork.”

  I fold my hands together and hold them tight against my chest, the thudding inside calming as I try to redirect my thoughts.

  Megan for sure.

  If Krystal and Bethany come over, my mother won’t like how loud and excited they’ll be.

  Or the gossip and questions they’ll have.

  I suddenly miss them both, and as superficial as our relationship is, I want some time with them when I’m not overwhelmed by anything serious or necessary, to relax as I listen to their chatter.

  “But that Josh. He always seemed too perfect to me. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you’re better off without him.”

  Her generally non-existent approval is like a physical blow, and as I step back, I nearly fall on the stairs that lead up to our bedrooms, stumbling .

  “I’ll make something for lunch. Go to your room and I’ll let you know when i
t’s ready.”

  I back up the stairs as she disappears into the kitchen, wondering why she’s acting so strangely, even to go so far as to offer me food.

  There are a few hours left before anyone else should show up, and it occurs to me that Josh must have left school to come by.

  What did he hope to accomplish? He knows my mother doesn’t work, so he couldn’t have expected to find me alone.

  But he will once he discovers that they’ll be out of town next week.

  I think of the kiss in his laundry room, the way he shoved me, the look in his eyes . . .

  How my mother always seemed to like him, how she encouraged me to be nice to him, to look pretty and make sure I appreciated his interest in me.

  Can I trust the way she’s acting now?

  She and my father spent time with the counselor this morning as I waited for my turn, flipping through old magazines as the receptionist stared at me with a bland smile.

  Did she tell them to treat me like this?

  As if they cared?

  I grab my phone from the bundle of muddled pink yarn on my bed and swipe at it, forgetting, for a moment, to be afraid of Eli’s response.

  There is none.

  When my mother comes in a little while later with a small plate, I’ve wrapped myself back into the blanket cocoon, forgetting she’ll know right away it’s Kayla’s blanket.

  I pull it off my head and emerge to find her staring, but instead of anger, I find . . .

  Confusion?

  Fear?

  “Is grilled cheese with pickles still your favorite?”

  I don’t have a favorite now; I don’t want to eat anything.

  But I nod a couple of times, hoping it will get her moving out of my room.

  To leave me alone again.

  Instead of setting the plate on my dresser or desk, she brings it over to the bed and rests it carefully beside me.

  “Take a bite. One bite, and I’ll go.”

  I swallow hard against this bizarre command.

  Watching me eat is one of the things my mother hates the most.

  “Not hungry. Maybe later.”

  I manage to smile with what I hope looks like gratitude as she looks from me to the plate, and then she shakes her head.

  “Just one bite.”

  My teeth feel fuzzy, although I brushed them this morning before we went to the counselor and I haven’t eaten anything yet.

  I don’t want to get them any dirtier.

  In fact, I think I should go brush them again.

  “Sorry, my mouth feels gross. I’m going to brush my teeth.”

  As I push off the bed, careful not to drop the blanket onto the buttery sandwich, my mother grabs my arm.

  I pull away, thinking of how Josh tried to touch me earlier.

  The only one I want to touch me now is Eli, and he's ignoring me.

  “One bite, Mia. If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for Kayla.”

  As much as I loved hearing her refer to my sister when we were downstairs, when she brought her up as if Kayla was in her thoughts all the time, as if she was still in her heart and mind, this is wrong.

  Using her to make me do something, something she doesn’t like me to do anyway?

  I take the plate and toss the sandwich towards her feet.

  It tumbles onto the carpet, glistening grease resting at the top of the fibers, and I step back, not wanting any of it to touch even the tips of my toes.

  As I wait for my mother to start yelling, I reach behind me for the door as a wave of dizziness hits me.

  I’m thirsty, but I can get a drink of water in the bathroom.

  I catch myself on the doorknob as my mother bends down and picks up the sandwich, cut diagonally like Kayla and I always liked them when I was a kid.

  She didn’t eat bread when she was in high school, though, and the sandwiches I ate alone didn’t taste nearly as good as they had when we shared the same kind, eating side by side at our kitchen table in our old house, in our old town.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  I make it to the bathroom and lock myself in, listening as my mother shuffles down the hall and stairs silently.

  The outburst I expect never comes, but instead of relief, I find myself shaking, scared.

  After I take a long gulp of tap water from the small plastic cup at the sink and wash my face, I take a quick look at myself in the mirror and shake my head.

  I could never pull off what Kayla did, presenting a perfect image to the world when obviously, so much was wrong.

  I’ve done my best to do what I’m supposed to and make everyone happy, but that hasn’t worked well.

  Maybe it’s better for me to stay home.

  Like Eli, I could do an online school . . .

  I scratch at my head, digging at my scalp as I head back into my room and avoid the greasy stain on the carpet.

  No, that won’t work.

  I have something to do that’s important, but my head feels thick, like it’s stuffed with bits of the blanket bundled up on my bed.

  My laptop, a few years old but still capable of doing what I need for school, is out of power, so I slip it out of my desk drawer and plug it in to charge it, rubbing at my cheek while I wait.

  My skin feels dry and scaly, and I wonder what Josh saw when he looked at me earlier.

  Hopefully not the girl he wouldn’t let go.

  Why would he want me now, when I look like this?

  There's something I’m supposed to be doing.

  It’s important.

  I pace, impatient with my own ability to figure this out.

  “Mia! Clean yourself up and come down. Megan, Krystal, and Bethany are here.”

  My mother’s voice doesn’t sound angry, but with three witnesses, she’s hardly going to scream at me.

  Waiting for her true reaction to the sandwich dumping is only going to get more stressful as time goes on, so I wish she’d get it over with already.

  “You can talk in the living room, but don’t take too long, and keep the conversation to school subjects.”

  Megan doesn’t usually associate with Krystal and Bethany, so I’m not sure what I’ll find when I get downstairs.

  Surprisingly, the three of them are huddled together on the sofa, whispering loudly as if they think no one can hear.

  All I hear is Eli.

  I can’t help smiling as I step up to them, feeling as if I’m about to give a presentation to a class, or offer myself up for judgment.

  Maybe this is going to be a bit of both.

  “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.”

  Megan stands abruptly, nearly dropping the laptop she’s holding, and the other two fall back , gasping audibly when they look at me.

  I don’t look that bad, do I?

  Krystal looks behind me, and so I glance back too.

  Is she checking for my mother?

  “This was outside by the door, so we picked it up before your mom could see it.”

  “Can’t imagine who left it.”

  She giggles , and Bethany joins in as Krystal pulls a can of root beer out from behind her foot on the floor.

  So this is why they were talking about Eli.

  Not as if they didn’t have enough to put on him before seeing this gift.

  “Thanks. I can’t figure who would bring me this, either. My dad likes root beer, so maybe it’s for him.”

  We all laugh, and my stomach starts to ache.

  How long has it been since I’ve felt this relaxed and comfortable?

  “Sit with us.”

  Megan takes my hand and leads me to the sofa, where the four of us sit squashed together.

  “Your mom seems really pissed off. I mean, I guess that’s to be expected, but still . . .”

  “She’s always been hard on you, right?”

  Krystal and Bethany revert to their loud whispers, but Megan stares into my eyes and I try to look away.

  “You don’t look good. Sorry, Mia, but th
at’s the truth.”

  I purse my lips, not sure how to respond to this. She means well, but . . .

  “You can keep this until you come back. Dante is cool with it, and if our advisor asks where it is, which he won’t, we’ll cover.”

  Our advisor is in name only, a part-time creative writing instructor who also teaches at the community college in the next county. He signs off on anything Dante and Megan bring to him, which honestly would make me nervous.

  I almost ask about our anonymous informant, but remember Krystal and Bethany are listening, too.

  And that Krystal might be the girl in the note.

  As if Megan can read my thoughts, she shakes her head just enough for me to notice, and I think she’s saying there’s no news on that front.

  But now, I’ll have plenty of time to dig into it more, even though not being able to be at school will be a problem.

  Although I wouldn’t be there for winter break, anyway.

  “Maybe once you’re home for a bit and your mom can see you’re not causing any trouble, she’ll chill out.”

  Bethany takes my hand in one of her soft ones, her glittery nail polish catching my attention.

  I smile as I look down at our entwined fingers, feeling closer to her than I ever have before.

  “My parents are going on a cruise next week.”

  When I glance at the entrance to the room, I don’t see any movement, but that doesn’t mean my mother isn’t listening in the hall.

  “Why don’t you drink this before your mom sees it? I know she doesn’t let you eat sugar, right?”

  Megan frowns at Krystal’s statement but doesn’t say anything as I shake my head.

  “I’ll hide it and keep it for later, thanks.”

  Bethany leans forward, her dark hair falling into her eyes.

  She pushes it out of the way, tucking it behind her ear in an all too familiar gesture that reminds me of my sister.

  “We’ll come over when they’re gone, okay? Hang in there until then.”

  The knot in my stomach, which I’ve only just now realized was there, loosens , and I think maybe Eli was right about running away.

  Maybe I do have something, someone, else here I can count on.

  Maybe three someones.

  I nod.

  “I’ll keep up with the newspaper work. Maybe I'll write something new over break.”

  Megan sits up straight and nods encouragingly.

 

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