The Rules of You and Me

by Shana Norris

  I had never turned it on after landing in Paris. When it came back to life, I saw a long list of unread texts and unheard voice mails. I didn’t have the energy to look at any of them right then.

  My chin quivered as I scrolled through my contacts. The lump I’d been holding back rose in my throat, almost choking me. The screen of my cell became blurry as tears filled my eyes again.

  I pressed a button and then put the phone to my ear.

  It rang once, twice, three times—

  “Hannah?” said a breathless voice on the other end.

  I opened my mouth, but only a choking sob came out. My shoulders shook and I pressed the back of my hand to my lips.

  “Where are you?” Jude asked. He sounded anxious and relieved. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about my family,” I said.

  “That doesn’t matter anymore,” he told me.

  “Yes, it does,” I said. “The truth is my mom is an alcoholic and my dad is addicted to pain pills, and I have no idea what that makes me other than seriously screwed up. I didn’t want you to know that.”

  “We’re all screwed up, Hannah,” Jude said, laughing a little. “You’re not any worse than I am. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I wasn’t angry with you, I was angry at myself.”

  I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound of his voice in my ear.

  “I never thought I was better than you,” I told him. “That wasn’t why I didn’t want anything to happen between us.”

  “Never?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Never,” I said. “You’re amazing and honest and courageous and I was too afraid you’d see that I wasn’t any of those things.” I swallowed as the lump swelled in my throat again.

  “Your aunt called me earlier,” Jude said. “She said you left and she thought you might be with me. We’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where are you? I’ll come get you if I have to.”

  “Paris.”

  There was a pause. “As in, France?” he asked.

  I laughed. “Yeah.”

  “How did you—never mind,” he said. “Are you with your mom?”

  “No,” I said, gripping the phone tight. “We had a fight and I left. I’m sitting on a park bench.”

  “What time is it there?”

  “Late,” I said.

  “Do you have money?”

  I cringed at the mention of money. I always had enough money just a checkbook or a plastic card away. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Go find a hotel—a nice one—and see if you can get a room. Let me know where you’re staying. Just go to sleep some place safe. Everything will be okay tomorrow.”

  I wanted to believe that was true. “Rule number one,” I reminded him. “Be honest.”

  “Do you still trust me?” he asked.

  I didn’t have to think about it. “I do.”

  “Then everything will be okay.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  I opened my eyes to a white ceiling made of decorative tiles with swirling patterns of birds and flowers.

  The knocking sound that had awoken me came again. I rubbed my eyes and then blinked up at the ceiling as I tried to remember where I was. The bed was too large to be the one at Aunt Lydia’s house. For a moment, I thought maybe I was at home in Willowbrook, but my ceiling didn’t look like that.

  Then I remembered. The last minute flight to Paris that I had paid way too much for. The fight with Mom. The phone call to Jude.

  Jude!

  I pushed the blankets off and dashed toward the door as the knocking grew louder and more insistent. I pulled it open, holding my breath.

  “Hannah, thank goodness!” Aunt Lydia wrapped her arms around me, crushing me against her.

  She smelled like soap and paint. I closed my eyes, breathing it in. I didn’t even try to stop the tears this time.

  Aunt Lydia rubbed a hand over my head. “Shh,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m taking you home.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said between sobs.

  “It’s all right. Where is your mother?”

  “At her hotel, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

  Aunt Lydia pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay. Get your things.”

  I didn’t have much to get, other than my purse. Aunt Lydia had a car already waiting for us outside and she gave the driver the address to Mom’s hotel. My stomach churned as we sped through the Parisian streets. I didn’t want to face my mother again, not so soon after our last argument.

  When the car pulled up in front of Mom’s hotel, Aunt Lydia looked at me. “You can wait here. I just have a few things I need to say to Marilyn before we leave.”

  Was it better to stay in the safety of the car, or should I go to make sure Mom and Aunt Lydia didn’t kill each other?

  “I’ll go,” I said hoarsely.

  I told the driver to wait, since my French was better than Aunt Lydia’s, and then we headed into the hotel to Mom’s suite. Aunt Lydia didn’t even stop at the desk to ask the concierge for directions. She strode through the gleaming lobby, her head held high, like a woman on a mission.

  Aunt Lydia pounded on Mom’s door, much louder than she had knocked on mine. She kept pounding her fist against the wood until finally, the door opened and Tess blinked at us.

  “May I help you?” Tess asked.

  “I need to see Marilyn,” Aunt Lydia told her. Without waiting for an invitation, Aunt Lydia pushed Tess aside and marched into the suite.

  “Marilyn!” she shouted.

  Tess winced and rubbed at her head. “Could you possibly do that a little quieter?”

  “Just tell me which room is Marilyn’s,” Aunt Lydia snapped.

  Tess pointed at one of the doors, and Aunt Lydia swung it open. I followed as she entered the room. Aunt Lydia snatched the white comforter off of Mom, who was sprawled across the large bed. Then she pushed open the curtains, letting in the morning sunlight.

  “Marilyn.” Aunt Lydia shook Mom’s shoulder, rocking her back and forth violently until Mom’s eyes fluttered open.

  She let out a moan. “Go away.”

  “No,” Aunt Lydia said. “I flew overnight to Paris to speak to you, and you are going to listen this time.”

  Mom sat up, pushing at her matted hair. She had slept in her makeup, and dark smudges of mascara lined her eyes. She sneered up at Aunt Lydia. “What are you doing here?”

  Aunt Lydia pointed at me. “She is the reason I’m here.”

  Mom let out a sigh as her bleary eyes focused on me. “Thank goodness, Hannah. I was up half the night worried about you.”

  “Sure you were,” Aunt Lydia snapped. “She’s your daughter, Marilyn, and she needed you this summer. But you decided to go off and ignore reality, like you always do. Do you even realize how much you’ve let Hannah down?”

  “She’s seventeen years old,” Mom said. “She’s not a child, Lydia. But I guess you wouldn’t know that, since you didn’t stick around to see her grow up.”

  “Right, she’s seventeen, not an adult! You can’t expect her to deal with tough situations on her own. You can’t expect her to live by all those rules you drilled into her head and be a perfect, well-adjusted little grown up. She needs a mother who is there for her.”

  Mom laughed, her eyes gleaming wickedly up at Aunt Lydia. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re still jealous of everything I have.”

  For a moment, I thought Aunt Lydia would slap Mom. Her body tensed, but she clenched her teeth and took a few deep breaths.

  “You still expect me to live under your rules, don’t you?” Aunt Lydia asked. “Even after all this time, you can’t understand that I don’t want the same things you do.”

  “I was trying to save you from heartache, Lydia,” Mom told her. “Were you really happy then, going through all of that? Are you happy now?”

  Aunt Lydia straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I may not have what you have, Marilyn, but at least I know a whole
hell of a lot more about life and taking chances than you do.” She turned and marched across the room to where I waited by the door. “I’m taking Hannah back to Asheville with me for the rest of the summer. Whenever you decide to return to the real world, I’d advise you to check out Keller-Burns for yourself. Daniel isn’t the only one with a problem that needs fixing.”

  We were silent on the way to the airport. Aunt Lydia bought two tickets back to Raleigh, which probably cost her a big chunk of her savings. I offered to pay since it was my fault she had flown out here, but she wouldn’t let me.

  I sat in a chair near a big window that looked out at the runway while Aunt Lydia went to buy some breakfast for us. She came back with croissants and two bottles of milk, handing me one.

  “How did you find me?” I asked.

  “Jude,” Aunt Lydia said. “He told me where you were.”

  I took a bite of my croissant, but I didn’t have much of an appetite. I chewed slowly as I pushed flakes of bread around the paper wrapper in my lap.

  Aunt Lydia put a hand over mine. “Hannah, I want you to know that your mom’s problems aren’t yours. She needs help, but you don’t have to protect her from anything. You’re not the parent here. You’re seventeen, and you should get the chance to be just that.”

  I looked down at my food as a happy family passed in front of us.

  “I’m sorry I left Willowbrook all those years ago,” Aunt Lydia said. “I never meant to leave you, but I needed a chance to breathe. Your mom isn’t easy to live with. She doesn’t just try to rule your life, she tried to rule mine too. Four years ago, I wanted something that your mom didn’t agree with.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What?”

  “A baby,” Aunt Lydia said.

  My mouth dropped open. “A baby?”

  “On my own,” Aunt Lydia went on. “I’m not exactly as young as I used to be. And the right man never came along. So I wanted a baby, and if it meant having one on my own, that was what I would do. I chose an anonymous donor and went through IVF. Your mom was opposed. She thought it would reflect badly on her for her unwed older sister to have a baby without having a real family. Marilyn loves gossip as long as it doesn’t involve her.”

  Aunt Lydia took a sip of milk, then continued. “I tried the IVF a few times, but it didn’t work. Then one day, it did. I was pregnant for nine weeks. But at my next ultrasound, there was no heartbeat and I miscarried. Your mom…” She took a deep breath, blinking quickly. “Your mom said it was for the best and I was stupid for even trying to do this on my own. She told me to give up and go back to devoting myself to the gallery. What she really meant was go back to my life of being alone and be happy with that to save her perfect world.”

  I thought back to the time just before Aunt Lydia left Willowbrook. I hadn’t known any of this was going on, but I did remember Aunt Lydia crying one night when I had stayed at her house. It was late, and she hadn’t known I was awake. I’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and heard her crying in her room. I’d been too afraid to ask what was wrong.

  “I don’t want to make you hate your mother,” Aunt Lydia told me gently. “You were very young when our parents died, so I’m sure you don’t remember them. They were good people, but they struggled a lot financially. Marilyn always wanted a big house and fancy clothes, and our parents could never give her that. When she married your father, he was so driven and intelligent that she knew he would go far. It was her chance to have her perfect life and she became afraid of anything that might jeopardize that.”

  I put my breakfast down on the little table in front of our chairs and leaned my head against her shoulder.

  “You’re right that I ran away,” Aunt Lydia said. “There’s a part of me that’s no better than your mom. When things get tough, I run away and pretend it’s fine just like she does. I didn’t want to leave you, but I needed some space. Before I knew it, that space had turned into years and I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me again.” She squeezed my hand. “I was so happy when your mom called and said you wanted to come stay with me this summer. I hoped that maybe we could fix everything and go back to the way it used to be.”

  “Nothing is the way it used to be,” I said.

  “I know.”

  I flicked a crumb off my finger. “I’m not ready to go back to the real world yet.”

  Aunt Lydia rubbed her hand over my head. “Trust me, Hannah, hiding from the hard stuff doesn’t make it any easier to live with.”

  #

  It was mid-afternoon when we landed in Raleigh. We found Aunt Lydia’s car in the airport parking lot and then headed west back to Asheville. We didn’t speak much as we rode through the foothills and then the blue mountains. I sat in the passenger seat with my head against the window, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

  As Aunt Lydia turned a corner a few blocks from her house, something caught my eye and made me sit up straight.

  We passed Jude’s house slowly. It looked still and empty. His truck wasn’t in the driveway, neither was his mom’s car. Everything about the house looked exactly as it had been the last time I’d seen it.

  Except that today there was no shirt hanging from the tree at the corner of the lot.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The figure standing on the front porch had freshly shaved hair. Short. A buzz cut. He ducked his head when I looked at him standing in the open door.

  “Hey,” Jude said.

  It had been two weeks since I’d come back from Paris. I hadn’t had the courage to see Jude again. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to see me or what I would say if I came face-to-face with him, even after the phone call from Paris. I’d spent my days with Kate and Ashton and Carter instead, going bowling and swimming and hiking. Ashton and Carter were officially dating now, so Kate and I would talk and pretend not to notice the other two sneaking kisses or sharing lovesick glances.

  I had been tempted to call Jude a hundred times since my return to Asheville, but I’d never found the courage to pick up the phone.

  Now my heart was stuck somewhere in my knees as I looked up into Jude’s gray eyes. The same gray eyes I had seen that first day I’d arrived in Asheville.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  He ran a hand over his head. “I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye.”

  I swallowed. “You’re leaving?”

  “I enlisted in the army,” he said. “I’m leaving early tomorrow morning to catch a plane for boot camp in Georgia.” He pressed his lips together. “I finally figured out how to get my life unstuck. Things started moving fast after that.”

  I stepped onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind me. We sat on the front steps, side by side.

  “How long will you be gone?” I asked.

  “Boot camp is ten weeks,” he said. “Then I’ll be stationed somewhere. I don’t know where yet.”

  I pressed my lips together. I would be going back to Willowbrook in three weeks to start my senior year.

  I forced myself to smile. “So this is good-bye,” I said.

  “I got a signing bonus,” Jude said. “I talked with the bank and worked out an extension to pay off the missed payments once the bonus comes in. So for now, I think things will be okay.”

  I twisted my hands together. “I can talk to my dad. Maybe he can refinance your loan, get you a lower payment—”

  He put his hands over mine. “It’s not your problem. My mom and I got ourselves into this mess. We’ll find a way to get out. I’m talking to my mom about rehab and therapy. She’s against it right now, but I’ll keep talking to her as long as it takes.”

  “If you ever need anything…” I let my voice trail off.

  He smiled. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Silence fell between us. A car drove by and birds swooped from tree to tree overhead. Explosions of red and yellow and orange wildflowers swayed back and forth in the breeze among the grass, filling the air with a sweet scent.

  “I did
n’t just come to say good-bye,” Jude said. “There’s something I need to do before I leave, and I wanted you to do it with me.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What is it?”

  Jude stood and held his hand out to me. “Do you trust me?”

  I slipped my hand into his and followed him to his truck. We were silent as the old truck bumped down the street. We drove into Asheville and I smiled at the sight of the city nestled among the mountains. I had come to love this place. It was a part of me now.

  An idea hit me suddenly.

  “I’m going to apply to UNC-Asheville,” I announced.

  Jude glanced over at me. “Oh yeah?”

  I imagined myself waking up in Asheville every day, seeing the mountains and the brown city. Biltmore Estate and Chimney Rock, the waterfalls, the Blue Ridge Parkway. Ashton and Kate and Aunt Lydia. I didn’t want to give any of it up.

  “This is it,” I said. “This is where I want to go to school.”

  Jude smiled, nodding. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

  We pulled into a cemetery. Lush green grass spread over the sloping land around us, dotted with small markers. Jude parked the truck and we climbed out.

  He paused at the edge of the road, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t been here since the funeral,” he told me.

  I reached for his hand, squeezing it tight. “I’m right here if you need me.”

  Birds chirped from trees overhead as we made our way across the grass. There were a few other visitors in the cemetery, but they were several yards away, tending to their own loved ones’ graves. Flowers at some of the markers swayed in the breeze around us.

  The marker was small, not much different from the others around it. A halo was etched into the top of the stone with the words “LIAM - Beloved son and brother” underneath.

  Jude didn’t say anything for a long time. I leaned my head against his shoulder as I looked down at the grave of the guy who had impacted me so much this summer, despite the fact that I had never met him. I felt like I knew Liam through his brother, that what had made him who he was still lived inside Jude.