A Year of Love

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A Year of Love Page 26

by Anthology


  “It’s a disorder, if you care, but trust me. Don’t care. It’s easier that way.” I wasn’t going to explain it. That’d take the precious energy I had even doing just this. “I love my mom, but she’s called me seventy-three times today.” I had my notifications for her turned off because no way could I handle all of them. “And every call or text, she thinks it’s a genuine emergency. It’s not, but she thinks it is. She wants the attention. She needs it. She feels loved if she gets the attention. I don’t give it—can’t give it—because I’m exhausted. And because I don’t, she tells me over and over again how she feels unloved by me. Her own daughter.”

  Taz’s gaze fluttered, but I wasn’t caring.

  I didn’t care to know what she was thinking or feeling.

  That would take up my energy, and I had so little in reserve already.

  I added, “I never told your brother. He just knows that I don’t do drama, and I don’t. I hate drama. I detest it, but I have no fucking clue why I’m telling you any of this. I guess… I’m not the bitch you think I am. I’m just tired of everything.”

  Of family.

  Of love.

  Of existing.

  I was so damn tired.

  “Mara.”

  Jesus. I’d been going to school for half a month, and none of my friends called me by my first name. I was ‘Daniels’ to them. For some reason, it hit me that Taz was the one to use my first name.

  Not many knew what isolation felt like, not true isolation.

  I went to school.

  I didn’t have a roommate.

  I barely had friends.

  I screwed a guy tonight because he had no idea who I was.

  Yeah.

  That was true isolation when you wanted no one to know you, then you got it, and you wanted anything but that, but not at the same time. It was a fucking mind-fuck. That’s what it was.

  Cruz left and I ushered him out the door. He started to ask me a personal question, but I shut him down.

  I told him, “Here’s my phone number. If you want to keep fucking like we just did, I’m down for it. But my rule, no personal shit. I don’t want to know anything about you, and I don’t want you to know anything about me. If you can handle that, let’s do this again. I don’t care if you fuck someone else, just keep a condom on with me. If you can’t deal, then this time was great and you’re a phenomenal lay.” I kissed him, and then sent his seriously hot ass on his way.

  Jesus. I was such a bitch.

  He looked bewildered at me during my speech.

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this.” No. I had an idea. “If you talk to your brother, you can tell him I’m okay. He’s the kind of guy who would worry when he doesn’t need to. You know?” I looked over and was surprised at seeing the tears in her eyes.

  I blinked a few times, realizing I had a couple in my own eyes.

  She let a few slip before lowering her toothbrush. “I’ll tell him. And he did care.”

  Cared. Right.

  Because we were all in college by now.

  Living our own lives.

  And he was on his way to his life of stardom.

  I grinned. “Your boyfriend came with you to college?”

  She blushed. “Yeah.”

  She seemed happy. “Good. You deserve that.”

  I was leaving. The conversation was done. I’d said what I needed to say, but she called my name again when I opened the door.

  I looked back.

  Her eyes were clear, looking at me. “You do, too, just so you know.”

  My heart thumped against my chest, because my God, I wanted to believe that, but she was wrong.

  I didn’t, actually.

  I gave a quick smile, making sure she felt her words made a difference with me, but they hadn’t. I wasn’t the girl who ever got the happily ever after, though, my God, I wanted it.

  I wanted it so bad.

  I just had no one I could ever say that to.

  End Of September

  Miles: Party tonight. You in?

  I was hesitant. After my Sabrina smackdown, and after Cruz told me Gavin had slept with her, I’d been staying away. Though, I was assuming he was talking about Gavin’s house throwing a party.

  Me: Where?

  Miles: Cruz’s house.

  Oh.

  Shit.

  I wanted to go, but if it was his house, I was guaranteed to hear about him, personal stuff about him.

  But damn.

  We had a few more study sessions, but they were kept to the library. Miles joined us for two of them, and Solana was there. She did her homework next to us, and I caught a few of the looks she sent his way. I liked Solana, but if he slept with her, I wasn’t going there again.

  He hadn’t reached out for anything else. Then again, neither had I.

  It’d only been two weeks, but in college land that was like an entire semester.

  I couldn’t ignore the throbbing between my legs that was already happening in me, at just thinking about going to Cruz’s party.

  Fine. Fuck.

  Me: I’m in.

  Miles: Score! He’s off campus, so I’ll pick you up at midnight.

  I didn’t text Solana this time.

  * * *

  Blocked calls (51)

  * * *

  Midnight hit and I was leaving my room.

  I heard a door opening behind me, heard Taz’s voice, but I didn’t think anything about it.

  Heard her boyfriend’s name, and then another voice that I knew. “Be fucking safe, Taz. I mean it.”

  “Yeah, well.” Her voice was crystal clear.

  I froze, my back to them.

  I heard her door shut, keys. She was locking it, or someone was locking it.

  And then from her phone, because you can tell if the voice is coming from a phone on speaker, “Nothing like that. Don’t be like that. Just watch your back. All I’m saying.”

  She sighed. “I will. Love you, brother.”

  “Love you.”

  He sounded irritable, but then again, that was just who her brother was at times.

  I finished locking my own door, as my phone texted.

  Cruz: Miles said you’re coming tonight. No personal shit, but wanna meet me in my room?

  I laughed.

  Me: Which door?

  “You’re going out?”

  I looked up as my phone buzzed again. Taz and her boyfriend were still there, watching me and not hiding it.

  I put my phone away, sliding it into my front pocket. “Yeah. You guys?”

  She nodded. “Party at the hockey house.” She gestured to her boyfriend. “He knows some of the guys.”

  “Cool. That sounds like fun.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I was about to tell her but realized I didn’t know. “I’m not sure, actually.”

  She laughed. “Well, I hope you have fun, too, wherever you go.”

  I gave her a nod, gave her boyfriend a wave, and as they took off down the main stairway, I went down the back entrance way. Miles was waiting for me outside, in his truck, and I hurried over.

  “Hey.”

  He frowned. “Hey, yourself. You sound out of breath.”

  I shot him a look, pulling my seatbelt on. “I’m not.”

  Cruz had started to mention ‘tea’ before I cut him off. He might’ve been mentioning teammates, and knowing there was a party at the hockey house, knowing there was a party at his house, it was on the tip of my tongue just to ask. So easy, right? Super easy. Is Cruz on the hockey team?

  But just as I started to, claustrophobia hit me.

  I felt like I was being squeezed on both sides of me, then from the front and the back.

  My phone started ringing, and I jerked, answering it before looking at who it was.

  “Mara.”

  I froze, hearing my dad’s voice, but more hearing the tone of his voice.

  I knew. I just knew. A sick chill lined my insides.
<
br />   She’d been calling me more than normal. I used to get a break every now and then. Not every day was drama for her, but yeah. I hadn’t gone this long before not responding to her.

  I lowered my voice, wishing Miles wasn’t in the truck with me, “What’d she do?”

  My parents were divorced, so it was bad if she had my dad calling.

  “She took off to Vegas, said she’s going to get married.”

  Which meant she’d go to Vegas, find a guy who’d fuck her, and who knows what would happen after that.

  I didn’t respond to him, but I was aware of Miles sending looks my way.

  “Mara.”

  “Yeah. I—” I didn’t want to call her, and that’s why he was calling me. This wasn’t the first ‘Vegas’ trip, but if he was calling me, that meant she wasn’t responding to his calls, but she’d respond to mine. That was the one silver lining with her. I was her daughter, and the mother love was real and powerful for her. I knew other mothers like mine weren’t so loving.

  If I called, she’d answer.

  “I’m not asking you to call her. I don’t want you involved, but could you send her a text, have her download an app. Say it’s because you want to share your college photos with her.”

  I almost laughed at that.

  Again, not our first trip down this path.

  He wanted me to send a tracking app to her, and she would know it was a tracking app, and she wouldn’t download it.

  “I gotta call her, you know that.”

  I heard his soft sigh and curse this time. “I just don’t want her to do anything stupid.”

  I almost cracked a grin at that one. “Wishful thinking, Pops.”

  “Yeah.” Another deeper sigh from him. “I shouldn’t have called. You asked for a semester free, and I’m sorry.”

  He wasn’t apologizing for calling. He was apologizing for letting me know what was happening, because now I knew. Now I’d be tense, waiting for a call from him or the Vegas police or a Vegas hospital telling me something worse had happened. The other silver lining in this doom and gloom is that my dad had divorced her, but he hadn’t divorced us. He was still involved, the other partner in our ‘team’ of trying to handle her. He still cared. He still loved her. She just couldn’t legally take his money anymore.

  “Do you want me to answer her if she calls me?”

  He gave a wry laugh because we both knew she would. And I heard his resignation on the other end. “No. I’m sorry. I’m going to make some calls and see if I can find her.”

  “Dad.” It was a waste of money. This shit was on a recurring loop. She’d do what she was going to do until she crashed and burned, and then she’d call him. And because he loved her, he’d swoop in and try and do what he could for damage control.

  “I know. I know. You know how it is.”

  “Yeah.”

  We had parked, and I became aware of Miles watching me, his features tight and his lips pressed flat.

  “I’m going into a party, Dad.”

  “Okay. Have fun, sweetheart. I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  We hung up, and I didn’t move.

  All the pressure was slammed back down on me.

  She was out there, doing who knows what. If she was on a tirade, she could get pregnant, raped, gangbanged, or… I had no clue. Rob a bank if she was drunk enough. Some of it was out of her control, but some of it wasn’t. Some of it she did knowingly and manipulatively to control whoever she wanted attention from, and judging by the amount of blocked calls, it was me.

  I knew Dad was regretting calling me because he was right. Now I knew.

  I expelled a ragged curse, hitting my head against the dashboard.

  “You—” Miles caught himself. Oh yeah. He’d gotten the memo about my personal shit. And I said shit on purpose because that’s what it was, truly a bowel movement type of shit.

  I glanced to the house, seeing Taz and her boyfriend walking down the sidewalk. So that answered one of my questions. It was the only house that was lit up. It wasn’t a crazy kind of party, but there were ten people on the porch hanging out, drinking, laughing.

  I nodded to get out of the truck, and Miles followed my actions. He came around as I rested against the door. He was standing on the sidewalk, his hands going into his back pockets. I knew what I needed to do and waved my phone at him. “You can go in. I’m—uh—I’m going to make a call.”

  He frowned, but was nodding. “Sure, sure. Do you want me to wait for you inside?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve got family stuff to handle, so I might, no. I could call Solana to meet up with you?”

  He laughed, and held his hands up. “Nah. I got it.” He dipped his head toward my phone. “Hope that all works out okay.”

  He headed in, being greeted by the porch people as I checked Cruz’s last text message.

  Cruz: Second floor. End of the hallway. Bathroom is across from me.

  Me: I’m coming in. Gotta make a call first.

  I was pulling up my mom’s number when he responded.

  Cruz: You outside?

  Me: Yeah.

  Then I pressed call on my mom’s number.

  She answered in a rush, “HONEY! SWEETHEART! Oh my God. How are you?” But she was off, not letting me answer, “Oh good Lord. Don’t tell me your father got you to call me? Not after how many times I’ve tried to reach you. But noooo. One call from your father.” She bit off, growling. “I can’t believe this. But sweetheart, oh sweetheart. How are you? How’s college? Have you met someone there yet? Tell me everything.”

  I could hear the announcements of arrivals and departures in her background, and I had my answer.

  “Actually, Mom. I’m about to go into a party. I was just calling to tell you that I love you.”

  “Oh Mara, sweetie.” I heard her starting to sniffle. “Thank you, baby. I’ve been so worried about you. I almost considered coming to Oregon to check on you myself, but I’m glad to hear you’re doing fine.” Her voice dropped because now she was going to get into what she wanted from me. “I’ve been struggling so much since you left, and I’ve been worried because you haven’t been returning any of my calls. Sweetie—”

  I noticed someone was walking down the side of the house. It was dark, but he/they were hunched over. Hands in their front pockets.

  My mom was still talking.

  She wanted me to call her every day. Every hour, if I could. She wanted to tell me about a guy she met, and a new friend she met, and an investment deal she was thinking of giving money to, and a place she was thinking about renting because her landlord was an asshole and it was high time she moved out, and then I stopped listening.

  The guy stepped out past the porch, and its lights hit his face. It was Cruz, a little grin on his face as he was watching me, slightly frowning.

  “I have to go, Mom. Love you. Be smart. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t want you to do.” I hung up, blocked her calls again, and sent a text to my dad.

  Me: She’s at the bar in the airport.

  He’d know which bar because she had three that were her favorites. And also, he’d handle it from here.

  I pushed off from the truck and went to meet Cruz. “Hey.”

  My phone buzzed back.

  Dad: Thanks, sweetie. She still thinks you’re going to college in OR, so you don’t have to worry she’ll show up. Just have fun tonight. Enjoy college. Love you.

  I didn’t respond, but Cruz was looking from me to my phone. “I know your rule, but I’m still going to ask if everything okay?”

  “You came out the back to get me?”

  His grin widened, showing off the side indents of his face. “I was hoping to show you a shortcut to my room, because you know.”

  Yeah. I grinned back. I knew.

  We went down the side alley. His house had a fenced-in backyard, but he opened a side door just before the fence’s door and we slipped inside. A set of stairs ran up the side of the house. He ope
ned the second-floor door, then took the first immediate right and we were in his room, which was big too. I started to migrate toward the back window, it was a large one like a living room would have, but he said, “That overlooks the backyard. I’ve got the shades drawn, but people are out there. A lot of people.”

  Which was code for: if I opened them, those people could see me up here.

  Right.

  I left the curtains where they were.

  For a party, the sounds were muted from inside his room. I knew parties could get crazy, but hockey parties were usually on another level. They were up there with fraternity parties.

  He closed the door, locking it, and turned on a lamp.

  His room was nice.

  A huge bed on one side of the room. A couch on the other. He had his own television. Two gamer chairs in front of it. A desk was set up by his bed. Two large closet doors on the other end, and another door.

  I frowned. “Is that—”

  He shot me a wicked grin, as he walked over and opened it.

  I could’ve died right there. The guy had his own bathroom.

  “It’s not much. A single shower, toilet, and sink, but it’s mine.”

  It was small enough where a person needed to almost sit down on the toilet in order to close the door to get to the shower, but he was right. Privacy was a big deal. And your own bathroom was like prime real estate in college life.

  He was glancing at where I’d put my phone.

  His eyes flashed, meeting mine, and he raked a hand through his hair. “Seriously. Are you okay?”

  My tongue got heavy. My throat swelled up.

  He was following the rules, but he wasn’t at the same time, and I swear I heard a crack inside of my chest. A small one, but it was there, and I could only swallow because I didn’t want to deal with what that meant.

  I went to him, my body moving on its own because I felt pulled toward him. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  His eyes darkened and lidded as I stepped right up to him. My hand went down to his belt buckle. His hand touched my arm, moving up to my neck and he circled, cupping me there. “Rules still apply?”

  Lust coursed through me.

  That ache was back, and I loved the tight hold he had on my neck. I let my head fall back, and his hand shifted, catching me. His fingers slid into my hair, taking a good hold on me.

 

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