by Siera Maley
In my head, that was around the time some massive blowup happened. Then I’d start talking my head-self down, insisting that that wasn’t how it was going to go, because there was absolutely no way that I could put Chelsea through the complete destruction of my family. No, they were going to be upset, but with a guest in the house, they’d be respectful. At most we’d have one of our strongly worded, evenly-toned disagreements, and I’d rush Chelsea out before things got out of hand. They were going to take it poorly, but they’d recover and in the end it’d be for the better. And when it did come time for Chelsea to find out the truth about me and Skylar, she’d think back to this huge event in my life that I’d wanted her there for, and there would be no doubt in her mind that things had been real on my end. Maybe she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life hating me.
“Chelsea, so nice to meet you! We’ve heard a lot about you! Almost as much as…other people in Zoey’s life.”
Skylar’s plan to fake a fight was going about as well as it could, given the circumstances. I’d asked my parents to please not bring Skylar or Cole up until further notice, because “it’s just too hard to talk about them right now.” Frankly, I was torn by the idea of Chelsea finding out the truth from my parents. On the one hand, I selfishly wanted to be able to be with her for as long as I could, but on the other, a part of me felt guiltier the longer it went on, and if she found out because of my parents, Skylar couldn’t blame me. I could spare Chelsea from Prom while still salvaging my friendship with Skylar.
Still, there were a lot of things that could go wrong tonight, and so I tried to just focus on Chelsea instead, fearing the alternative involved turning myself into even more of an anxious mess than I already was.
I could tell right away that she was good with parents, but it wasn’t in the sleazy, lying way Cole was. She offered to help them set the table, which of course my mother emphatically protested. When everything was ready to eat, we sat down opposite my parents and the interrogation began.
“So Chelsea, it’s been so long. How many years do you think, Hugh, six? Seven?”
“Just five,” I told my mom.
“Still, you’re all grown up. And so beautiful! You must have to fight the boys off at your school.”
Chelsea gave a polite laugh and shot me a sideways look, clearly unsure how to respond, and I jumped in to save her.
“Chelsea’s in a lot of AP classes,” I told them, changing the subject. “She’s going to a really good school in the fall. She wants to major in psychology like you did, Dad.”
“Oh, that’s interesting!” he replied, grinning at her and leaning forward in his chair, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. “What do you like about the subject? Back when I was in school, I pursued psychology because I wanted to be a therapist, but I never did go back to get my masters. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Oh, well, I decided on it because Psychology’s been my favorite subject ever since I started taking it last fall. I think I just like studying human behavior, and like, figuring out why people act the way they do. We just started that study with the monkeys.”
“Harlow!” exclaimed Dad, pointing a fork at her with exuberance. Beside him, Mom looked a little annoyed to have been left out of the conversation. He glanced to her and nudged her. “Maggie, you’ll love this.” Then he motioned for Chelsea to go on. Though she looked a little nervous, she obliged.
“So, basically, there was this theory at the time that animals were only attached to their mothers because they gave them what they needed to live. Like food and water. So they had these two fake mothers for a group of monkeys. One was this soft cloth mother that they could cuddle with, and another was made of wire but provided food. The point was to see whether they’d choose the mother that gave them physical affection and comfort or the one who gave them food and water.” Now that she’d gotten going, Chelsea was talking faster and gesturing with her hands. I hid a smile, watching Dad beam at her from across the table.
“Harlow thought that the whole food and water theory was crap, and when they ran the experiment, the monkeys all preferred the cloth mother and only left her briefly to go to the other one when they were hungry or thirsty. So in the end, it proved that having a parent that could provide affection took precedence over having one that could provide basic necessities. It taught them a lot about love, affection, and attachment.”
“But they’re just monkeys,” Mom laughed out. “That can’t possibly be relevant to humans.”
“Well, he did this other experiment on attachment and the monkey reacted the same way human babies do, so it seems possible.” Chelsea shrugged her shoulders and settled back in her chair, suddenly looking a little embarrassed that she’d spoken up so much. I bumped her leg under the table with mine and smiled down my food.
But Mom wasn’t done. “Well, I think a parent’s job first and foremost is to make sure their child has everything it needs to grow into a healthy adult.”
“But children do need love,” I couldn’t help interjecting. “I mean, do you know any well-adjusted adults whose parents hated them?”
“Alright, I don’t think that’s exactly what Harlow’s research was getting at,” Dad interrupted as Mom opened her mouth to reply.
“Hold on, Zoey, I’m not saying children don’t need love. Have I done something to upset you?”
“No,” I knee-jerked, sensing the tension at the table and taking pity on Chelsea. “I’m fine.” I looked at my dad and added, “Dinner tastes great, Dad.”
“Good. I took your advice from last time; no paprika.”
“You put too much of it on everything,” I told him, and Chelsea gaped at me.
“Dude, you like everything way too bland. Your poor dad.” She turned to him and told him, matter-of-factly, “I think paprika is always a good idea.”
“Alright, I like this one,” Dad declared, grinning at me. “Finally, someone with a decent palette. You’ll have to invite her over for dinner next time I decide to spice it up a little.”
“Just warn me ahead of time so I can order takeout,” I joked.
Mom’s lips were pursed across from me, and she fixed her gaze to Chelsea and abruptly asked, “So, Chelsea, I did hear that you had a boyfriend. What’s he up to tonight?”
“Oh. Um…” Chelsea looked over at me, at a loss for words, and again, I came to her rescue.
“They broke up, Mom. I don’t think Chelsea wants to talk about it.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Uncomfortable, Mom went back to her food, and I shot Chelsea an apologetic look. She looked disappointed but nodded shortly at me in understanding. “At least it’s nice that you have someone with some experience to help you through your own boy troubles, Zoey.” Chelsea looked a little confused by that comment, but seemed to dismiss it in favor of staring resolutely at her plate.
I could tell my dad was doing his best to mediate, because he quickly jumped in and directed another subject-changing question to Chelsea. “So do you play any sports at your school, Chelsea? Heaven knows Zoey could use a friend who’ll encourage her to get out to the park every once in a while. She hasn’t got an athletic bone in her body, unfortunately.” He laughed and Chelsea managed a short laugh of her own.
“I used to play soccer, but not anymore. We’ve been out to the park a few times already though, actually. I taught her how to kick a ball. Well, kind of.”
“Progress; I’ll take it!” Dad joked.
“Do you two spend a lot of time together?” Mom asked. “I know Zoey’s been so busy with her boyfriend; I’m surprised she has time for friends at all, honestly.”
I set my jaw and inhaled sharply, frustrated, but Chelsea seemed to take it in stride. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a little harder to hang out since we don’t see each other at school, but I’m really glad we ran into each other and caught up. I always really liked Zoey in middle school, so it was pretty easy to just pick up where we left off.”
“I didn’t realize
you two were so close when you were younger,” said Mom. “That’s interesting.” Back she went to her food, as though there hadn’t just been a noticeable edge to her tone. I heard Chelsea swallow audibly beside me.
“Well, we weren’t, but we’re closer now,” I said, trying to work myself up to saying more. “Really close, actually.”
“The more the merrier when it comes to friends, I always say,” Dad replied, oblivious, but Mom was glancing back and forth between us now, tension visible in her expression. Chelsea suddenly became fascinated with her food again, and I could see her trying valiantly to hide what looked unmistakably like panic. And I knew immediately what I had to do.
“That’s all it is, though, Mom. You can relax,” I added flatly, and Chelsea looked up at me sharply, her expression unreadable.
Mom colored rapidly and stuttered over her next sentence, looking appalled with me. “Zoey, I would never…that was not what I-…I can’t believe you’d even bring that up.”
“Chelsea knows I’ve dated girls, Mom.” I exhaled harshly and rolled my eyes, and my dad looked back and forth between Mom and I, visibly uncomfortable.
“A girl,” Mom corrected, and then, to Chelsea, she added, “Zoey was confused for a while. We had to have some talks about straying from God’s path and living in sin. People like that will spend in eternity in hell, so of course we didn’t want that for our daughter. Fortunately, that phase of her life has passed.” She reached out and patted my father’s hand. “As we knew it would.”
Chelsea’s eyes widened a little in surprise and she opened her mouth like she wanted to reply, but I caught her eye and silently begged her not to. She closed her mouth, sat quietly for a moment, and then said instead, “I’m actually not feeling well. I’m so sorry. It might be better if I go.”
Immediately, my mom looked alarmed, and Dad stood with Chelsea, concerned. I got to my feet, too, my heart sinking. “Do you have any allergies?” Dad asked her, but Chelsea shook her head hastily, waving him off.
“No, no, I think it must’ve been lunch.” I tried to catch her eye, but she was already reaching for her purse. “I’d love to do this some other time, whenever Zoey decides is best.”
The double meaning wasn’t lost on me, and I caught her arm before she could slip away from me, insisting, “Wait, I’ll walk you out.” I steered her toward the door before she could complain and glanced over my shoulder at my parents just before we made our way outside. My mom was still sitting in her seat, her lips parted in confused surprise, and my dad looked somewhere between taken aback and thoughtful.
When we were alone by her car, Chelsea rounded on me and I braced myself to be berated. Instead, she looked apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I know that left a terrible impression—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said. “I know that was rough.”
“No, I said I’d be here, it’s my fault. I just didn’t know it would be this hard. It was really hard to watch them just…say those things. I can’t imagine what it must be like to live with them. To have them talk about you like that.” She leaned back against her car and let out a deep breath. Then she shook her head. “It isn’t fair.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell them,” I said. “I really meant to. I should’ve never lied to them in the first place. I shouldn’t have made up a boyfriend for you or for me. I was out, and I let them push me back in.”
“But no wonder you did.” She placed a hand on my cheek and brushed it gently with her thumb. “I knew people could be like that, I guess, but it was just this distant idea. Seeing it in person is so different. Knowing someone who has to live it. Especially when it’s someone that I really care about. I wish things were different.”
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and knew immediately I was going to cry in front of her again. “I wish I could just be the person you want,” I admitted. “I don’t want things to be this complicated.”
She leaned in close and told me, “Zoey, you are the person I want. I want to be with you no matter what you tell your parents. Tell them we both have fifty boyfriends; I don’t give a shit. Don’t ever feel like you have to come out to them for me. We’ll be okay, whatever they think.”
“I don’t know how long things will be like this,” I admitted. “They might never change.”
“As long as you and I are okay, I’m good.” She smiled gently at me, her hand still on my cheek, and like some floodgate had opened within me, immediately I sank into her and started sobbing. I was thinking of Skylar, and of how she’d made me feel so silly back in my bedroom when I’d been worried about coming out to my parents all over again. A part of me felt relieved. I wasn’t overreacting and I wasn’t being stupid; Chelsea saw it, too, and she didn’t blame me.
She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, and I cried for what felt like hours over everything: over how understanding she was, and how alone I felt without her, and how much I knew I was going to hurt her, and how much it was going to hurt me to have to do it. And all for someone who was supposed to be my best friend but didn’t seem to understand me half as well as Chelsea did.
“I could really fall in love with you,” I whispered into her neck through tears, and she squeezed me tighter.
“Maybe it’s crazy, but I think I’m already there,” she said, and before I could even think about it I was pressing her up against her car and kissing her.
She threaded her fingers into my hair and pulled me close, breathing hard and fast as I kissed her over and over again, and for the second time in my life, I felt whole. And this time there weren’t any nerves about whether it was right or wrong or if it was okay for me to be who I was, like there had been with Alex. I just knew that right here with Chelsea was where I was meant to be. It wasn’t love; it couldn’t be; I’d guarded my heart way too much given what Skylar planned to have me do to her. But I knew that if we could be what I wanted us to be, without the lies, that I’d get there. And that was something worth fighting for, whether I was up against my parents, Skylar, or anyone else. I had to choose Chelsea. I just didn’t know if she’d choose me back.
We were still kissing when I heard my mother shriek my name. We tore ourselves apart immediately and for a moment I just stared at Chelsea, wide-eyed, my back to something I didn’t want to have to face. Chelsea looked horrified and sick and everything else I knew I felt. I turned around.
Dad was standing next to Mom. They were both still at the porch, the front door wide open behind them, and I watched my dad stand stock-still, dumbfounded, while my mom’s face crumpled beside him. Then she marched toward us, in tears.
“Zoey, make her go,” she ordered. Dad hurried after her and took her by the arm to keep her from getting any closer. He looked afraid of what she’d do if he released her. Her voice only got louder. “Zoey! She needs to go, now!”
“Mom…” my voice came out dry and rough, like my vocal cords were struggling to function. “I don’t want her to go.”
“Zoey, I can go,” I heard Chelsea say behind me, but I grabbed at her hand instinctively and shook my head. This time I said it louder.
“I don’t want her to go, Mom.”
Mom set her jaw at that, and I could see her chest rising and falling quickly, like she was breathing hard through her nose. Her mouth trembled and then she was crying. “Then you need to go,” she said, more to herself than to me. Then she said it again. “You need to go, Zoey.”
And then she was off, rushing back to the house, and my dad was watching her, bewildered.
“Dad?” I tried, but he just blinked at me, like he’d forgotten how to speak at all. I squeezed Chelsea’s hand hard, feeling my heart sinking into my stomach, and then Mom emerged from the house and I saw she was carrying a pile of clothes from my closet. My throat closed up and then I didn’t feel anything at all. She dumped them in the driveway in front of me and then went right back inside, and my dad did nothing, said nothing.
The rest was a blur. Later, I’d remember C
helsea letting go of me and screaming at my mom, calling her so many horrible things, and my dad having to pull my mom away and take her back inside. Chelsea’d put my clothes and a few other things my mom had dumped outside into her car, and then she’d ushered me into the passenger’s seat and started driving. And throughout it all, I didn’t say a word. It was like my brain and body had checked out to spare me from having to feel anything. Like an adrenaline rush after a stab wound. But when I checked back in, I knew it was going to hurt, and it was going to hurt badly.
Chelsea took me to her house and when we got inside, she guided me past her confused parents to her bedroom. Once she’d sat me down on her bed, I stared at the floor and listened to muffled conversation between Chelsea and her parents in the other room. I didn’t look up until Chelsea reappeared, this time with her mom. They were both crying, and Chelsea’s mom cupped my face and told me, “You can stay as long as you like, honey. You’ll always have a home here.”
After she left, Chelsea brought in my clothes and made a little space in her closet for them, and it was when she was halfway through hanging them all up that I finally found my voice.
“You don’t have to do that.”
She paused and looked back at me, and for the first time I was present enough to read the wild panic on her face. “What do you want me to do with them?” she asked me, and I started crying so hard that my ribs hurt.
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” I told her, and she rushed back to the bed and pulled me close. “I don’t know what to do.”
It didn’t take me long to realize that she was crying, too. “They’re so horrible,” she said through tears. “I hate them so much for this.”
“I wish we hadn’t kissed,” I said. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know, either.”
I had no idea how long it took me to fall asleep, but it was just after three in the morning when I woke up. I rolled over, expecting to be alone in my own bed, but then Chelsea was there beside me. When I looked around at the room, it wasn’t my own. And the absolute nightmare that had been the past evening came flooding back to me at once. I felt my eyes well up with tears instantaneously, and I curled up into a ball and started to shake, trying to keep myself quiet and still for Chelsea’s sake. It was to no avail.
