Love Always, Mia

by Cecily Wolfe

  A wave of dizziness pushes me back into my chair, and the counselor is up out of hers, holding a hand out as if I might stand again.

  No chance of that happening, not when the room tilts sideways and my head suddenly feels like a block of concrete.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Mia?”

  Of course I know why.

  I got caught doing something at school that was against the rules, and now I’m suspended.

  But didn't my mother tell me I'd only have to come here once a week?

  Why am I back here already?

  “This is important, Mia.”

  She keeps saying my name over and over, and I’m trying not to fixate on it.

  I have a baby bracelet with my name on it, tucked away somewhere, and it only means anything to me because when I was born, Kayla and her friends had similar ones made with their names on them, two names on each bracelet, two names other than their own.

  They wore the names of their friends on their wrists every day.

  Kayla once told me Mia means mine, and that’s what I was.

  Hers.

  Her little sister.

  Now I belong to no one.

  “Mia, this might sound very obvious, and I’m not trying to insult you by stating a fact I’m sure you know, but when someone doesn’t eat, it creates all sorts of problems. Physical and mental, psychological. I think you need to go to the emergency room and get some fluids, if nothing else.”

  This sounds very silly to me.

  I’m sure I’ve eaten something recently.

  The soup Eli’s mother and I had together.

  I sigh heavily and smile at this woman, who looks more worried about me than my mother ever has been.

  “I’m fine, just tired. It’s been a stressful few days.”

  I’m not lying, but I am trying to talk her down from that suggestion.

  “Tell me more about the night Kayla left to meet her boyfriend.”

  She pats my knee and I hear a door open behind me. When she gestures to whoever is there, I can’t discern what passes between them, but she sits back in her chair, so I relax a little.

  Something came to me a few moments ago when I was sharing this story, but I can’t remember it now, not the way my mind is racing and all I can see is Kayla in tight jeans and a fire engine red blouse, her dark hair streaming down her back.

  Her finger over her lips as she watched me step into the room, my eyes wide as I nodded in agreement to keep this new secret.

  She had so many secrets.

  I take a long gulp of water after I finish the story, which ended with me sleeping between Cassidy and Sarah on Kayla’s bedroom floor, waiting for my sister to come home.

  When I saw her the next morning, the whites of her eyes were pink, but she had smiled at me brightly and tugged on the braids Sarah made while they kept me occupied before I grew too tired to keep my eyes open.

  I remember overhearing Sarah and Cassidy talking softly, probably when they thought I was already asleep, words I didn’t understand then.

  Wondering if Kayla and Paul were sleeping together.

  If he was too obsessed with her.

  If she wanted to break up with him for good this time.

  I hope my smile is reassuring as I wait for the counselor to respond to my revelation, this story I’ve never told anyone before.

  But the words that passed between my sister’s friends upset me now, as they had meant so little to me then.

  “I’d like to talk to your mother for a few minutes, Mia, but I promise I won’t tell her what you’ve said just now. Our time together is private, and whatever you tell me is the same.”

  This can’t be true; after all, my parents are paying her.

  I nod anyway, because I’m not going to argue.

  When she leaves the room, I try to stand but I’m still unbalanced, just enough to make me sit back down right away, and I close my eyes, wondering if I can figure out what I was thinking of earlier that made me remember whatever was so important . . .

  As soon as I do, I make myself get up no matter how I feel, and rush towards the closed door even as I wonder who I can tell.

  The counselor?

  Maybe Eli’s mother.

  The school nurse?

  But what can she do if I have nothing more than a hunch, one founded on timing and smells, on brief school hallway interactions and the scent of cotton candy, which has an emotional hold over me?

  “Oh, Mia.”

  My mother looks over at me, and the weariness in her gaze is surprising.

  I know she’s tired of dealing with me when she’s used to me staying out of her hair, but I’m not trying to be difficult.

  What would Eli do with my suspicions?

  Where is he?

  When will he be back?

  I look down and find my hands twisting together, so I drop them to my sides and stand straighter.

  “I’m, uh, hungry, and was wondering when we would be finished here.”

  The counselor raises her eyebrows, but my mother narrows her eyes .

  I don’t want to eat, but the counselor’s concerns might be alleviated by my words.

  Even if my mother isn’t buying it.

  “We’re finished now, Mia, so let’s go.”

  “Please think about what I’ve said, Mrs. Hunter.”

  The counselor follows us to the office door, and her secretary looks up, smiling at me when she finds me watching her.

  “Take care.”

  She holds her hand up and waves , and I wonder what she means.

  The words are said all the time, but what do they actually mean?

  Be careful?

  Look after yourself?

  “Let’s go, Mia. I thought you were hungry.”

  How would I look after myself?

  I’m supposed to follow the rules at home and school, and not upset my mother.

  I guess I haven’t done such a good job of either one.

  My mother grabs my hand and yanks on my arm, pulling me through the open door.

  “Sorry,” I manage, drawn from my strange thought process, wondering what my sister would think about all of this.

  Would she be proud I took a dare from a cute boy, a boy I was starting to like?

  A boy who was smart and funny, sweet and gentle, but acted as if he needed so much attention from the wrong people . . .

  “Hey, Mom?”

  The car doors are locked and my mother has started the car, but before she backs out of the parking spot she turns to me, frowning.

  “What kind of game are you playing, Mia? You won’t eat anything, but you tell the counselor you’re hungry, as if we’re starving you at home? She wanted me to take you to the hospital, of all things. As if your own mother can’t take care of you.”

  I rub my eyes, and she snatches my wrist in her hand.

  “I didn’t think Kayla’s problems were serious. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  We stare at each other, and I blurt out a question that was in my head before she spoke.

  “Do you know whatever happened to Paul?”

  She drops my hand as if I’ve turned on a switch that starts her moving again, and begins to pull out of the parking spot.

  “No. And he’s not worth talking about. I don’t want to hear his name again.”

  When Kayla died, there were rumors she was pregnant, until the autopsy came through and her cause of death, along with confirmation she wasn’t, was made known.

  Paul had sucked up plenty of attention once my sister was gone, even if that wasn’t his intention.

  Depression, threats of suicide, strange side effects from his medication . . .

  Cassidy and Sarah told me bits and pieces, as if they were unsure how much I should know. But they were sure I’d hear whatever was most interesting for others to gossip about, and wanted me to have the facts.

  As much as I could understand of them.

  I sigh, although I know how mu
ch it will annoy my mother.

  She doesn’t reprimand me as I stare out of the car window, and I rub my eyes again, as if the movement might clear my head as well as my sight.

  I can smell the macaroni and cheese she’s heating up in the oven as I hide in my room not long after we get home, and hope she isn’t going to try to push it on me again.

  After spritzing around my closed door with some flowery body spray that’s been sitting in a drawer for a couple of years to try to dissipate the thick aroma from the kitchen, I sit on my bed, tucking myself under the covers as best I can to ward off a chill.

  With the school’s laptop on my thighs, I check to see if the newspaper email account has any new messages.

  Any messages about the student-teacher relationship.

  I haven’t seen the past couple of days’ editions, so I don’t know if Megan or Dante have published any new messages reaching out to our informant, or to the student herself.

  Would Krystal tell me if something was going on between her and Mr. Carl, after I've told her again and again how disgusting he is?

  But this isn’t about Krystal, I remind myself, and I scroll through the small amount of messages waiting for attention.

  It was Jackie who left a cotton candy scent the day I dropped the room key, and it was that same smell Mr. Duncan carried on him the day I crept into the band room and discovered . . .

  Was it Jackie and the vice principal?

  I shake my head hard and tuck my chin into my chest, forcing myself to think hard.

  Nothing makes sense anymore, not my memories or my thoughts, and I wonder if I’m imagining this.

  Surely this was Krystal and Mr. Carl; it was so obvious.

  He had to be the teacher at fault here.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  I manage to forward some messages on to different newspaper staff as my hands shake, the keys slippery under my cracked nails.

  There’s a knock at my door and I drop my head back so I’m blinking at the ceiling.

  “Yeah?”

  My tone is dismissive, nearly defiant, and I don’t recognize it as my own.

  “You need to eat something, so I heated this up. If you’d rather have something else . . .”

  When my mother steps into my room, the cheese smell overpowers me and I have to turn my head away.

  “I’m busy with newspaper work, so could I have something later? Maybe . . . something that isn’t greasy?”

  I cough , trying not to gag, and hear a tap on my desk.

  “Okay, Mia. But you’ll need to eat today. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  When the door clicks shut, I look at my desk and find a glass of water there, the sight making me realize I’m thirsty.

  I rub my hands on my arms, wondering why I can’t get rid of the cold that has seeped into my bones, and get out of bed so I can gulp down the water in one long drink.

  My phone has been charging for hours now, of no interest to me since I know Eli won’t be texting me.

  When will he be home?

  I tap my toes on the floor as I think of where he could be.

  It occurs to me once my parents are gone, I’ll be by myself for the first time in my life.

  But Cassidy and Sarah are coming, and I can have anyone else over I want.

  Megan. Krystal. Bethany.

  Alex if Megan wants to bring him.

  But not Josh.

  And when Eli returns . . .

  I get back into bed and shove the laptop away, enough for me to slide under the covers and rest my head on my pillow. Maybe if I take a nap, I’ll wake up with thoughts that are no longer jumbled, including a plan for how to handle the situation between the vice principal and Jackie.

  My mother is packing a large suitcase in her room when I wake up and wander down the hall, unsure of the time after I visit the bathroom.

  “Oh, Mia. I checked on you a couple of hours ago, and didn’t want to disturb you. It’s been a rough couple of days, and I was hoping some rest would help you feel better.”

  The clock on her bedside table flashes twelve fifteen, but the sun is bursting over her bed and the half-full suitcase resting on it.

  Did I sleep all afternoon and night, and then through this morning?

  “Your father and I are trusting you to make good decisions while we’re gone, and the neighbors are aware you’ll be here alone, so if you need any help, they’re available.”

  Unlike you, I think, but don’t dare speak out loud.

  I want her to go.

  Don’t I?

  I smile and pat the clothes stacked in the suitcase.

  “They’re all so neat.”

  My mother smiles as if I’ve given her a huge compliment.

  “Thank you. I’ll be going to the grocery store to stock up on some things for you before we leave, so think about what you’d like. I want to come home to see you happy and healthy again.”

  A magic wand, I think, maintaining my smile.

  That’s what you can get for me at the store.

  “Something healthy.”

  It’s vague but I know she’ll approve, although what she’s offered me lately has been horrifying by her - and Kayla's - standards.

  I stay out of her way for the rest of the afternoon, immersed in contemplation about who I should contact to help me.

  Help Jackie.

  What if I’m wrong? My mind isn’t working right, and I don’t want to pull Jackie into this if it will cause trouble for her.

  But Jackie approached me, as if she was waiting for an excuse to talk.

  Eli was there, so maybe she didn’t want to say anything in front of him.

  By the time I decide for sure the school nurse is the only adult I can trust with my suspicion, the school day is over, and my parents are getting ready to head to the airport.

  Megan texts to say she would stop by tomorrow sometime with more newspaper work, including some projects for me to handle over winter break, and Krystal says she and Bethany want to sleep over one night next week.

  We’ve never spent the night at each other’s houses, partially because my parents won’t allow me to, either as a guest or a host, and partly because the three of us aren’t that close.

  Maybe we are now.

  I start to feel numb with the cold when my mother shocks me by pulling me close as my parents and I stand in the hall by the front door, both of them in thin coats, as if they will be able to manage in the freezing Ohio weather until they get on that plane to Florida without anything bulkier.

  “Remember what I said earlier, Mia. There’s plenty of good food in the kitchen, and you should look after yourself until we return.”

  I’ll have to look after myself then, too, I consider, pushing her away.

  She stares at me for a long moment before my father steps up and pats my shoulder, gently as if he’s afraid I might fall apart.

  Suddenly, I think of Kayla on her last day, of her fragile smile, the one that didn’t reach her eyes.

  How long had she been falling apart?

  How long did it take before it was all too much?

  And why didn’t anyone help her?

  “Sure thing. Have a safe trip.”

  I cough , the words sounding forced and my throat dry, but neither of them notice as they walk out.

  When I start to close the door behind them, my father turns back as if he meant to do it himself, and catches me watching them through the small opening left.

  Whatever he sees in my expression makes him frown just enough for me to notice before he turns away.

  I scroll through a blur of texts as soon as I reach my bedroom again, hoping to see Eli’s name.

  Instead, several from Josh appear, seconds apart.

  But I don’t read any of them.

  I turn to my side when my stomach twists inside as if someone is squeezing it out like a sponge, and take long, deep breaths until the pain passes.

  Maybe I should eat, I assure myself, patt
ing my belly before I roll off the bed and stand up.

  I’m about to turn up the thermostat when I reach the bottom of the stairs, but a knock on the door jolts me from my thoughts of how cold the house has become.

  It comes again, more insistent this time.

  A face flashes in the window by the door, and I back up the stairs when I see who it is.

  Josh.

  I sit on the steps about halfway back up to the second floor, and rest my face in my hands.

  “Mia! I know you’re in there. I also know your parents aren’t home.”

  That’s not the best way to convince me to let him in, and as if Josh suddenly realizes this, his tone grows dangerously calm.

  I touch my lips with the tips of my fingers, remembering how he kissed me the night I broke up with him.

  How afraid I was, how tightly he held me so I couldn’t get away.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, to tell you how much I miss you. Maybe I didn’t appreciate you enough, and you deserve better.”

  This doesn’t sound like the Josh of the school hallways, the Josh with girls cooing on both sides of him as he smiles generously at them.

  The Josh who pushed me around when I didn’t give in.

  He’s lying, and that sugar sweet tone of his isn’t fooling me for a moment.

  I look down at my hands and clasp them tightly together to stop the shaking.

  The doors are locked, both the front and back, and the garage is closed up, too.

  He can’t get in if I don’t let him, and he can only stay out in the cold for so long before he gives up.

  “Mia, come on. Don’t be like this.”

  The brief quiet that follows his prior pleading shifts into a menacing tone.

  I’m about to go up to my room and get my phone to call the police when I hear someone else on the other side of the door.

  “Josh. I’m going to guess you weren’t invited.”

  A familiar voice laced with upbeat sarcasm puts Josh in his place, and I laugh, so relieved I rest my hand over my heart to calm the racing I find there.

  “What the hell . . .”

  Josh growls, his shock at Eli’s arrival clear, and I jump up, nearly falling down the last few steps to get to the door.

  Because Josh won’t think twice about hurting Eli.

  Sure enough, when I finally open the door, I find Eli smiling up into Josh’s face, as Josh scowls down at him, his hand fisted in the front of Eli’s black coat.