by RH Tucker
“Since … a while?”
“And when were you going to tell me?”
“Uh … right now?”
She just stares at me. I only know she’s alive because I see her blink. Once. Then she turns around, finishes pouring her coffee, and leaves the house. No head shaking or disappointed mumbling to herself. I don’t even hear an aggravated sigh. She simply pours her coffee and leaves. So I go back to bed.
“Jen,” she says lightly, when she comes home after work.
She leans against the archway of the living room, where I’m now bundled up in blankets. I Netflixed Gilmore Girls all day, only getting up to pee and warm up some food. I stare at the TV as she approaches the couch.
“Honey, I’m sorry about this morning. You caught me off guard, that’s all. I figured you’d be all set to get this college thing started.”
I roll my eyes at myself. “Yeah, I thought I would be, too.”
“Then what happened?”
I want to tell her everything. Nancy and I have always had a close relationship. When I was sixteen she looked me straight in the eye and told me where she kept extra condoms in the bathroom. “Not that I want you having sex right now,” she explained, “but if you’re gonna do it, I want you to be safe.”
But I can’t tell her. Because I know if I do, I’ll unleash everything else. All the memories and pain will come flooding out and I won’t be able to stop them. She doesn’t need to hear that. She doesn’t deserve to get unloaded on because it’s not her fault.
“Nothing,” I lie, shaking my head. “I just wanted an extended break from school before I dig back in.”
She doesn’t believe me. I said the words and I don’t believe them.
“Jen, come on,” she says, patting my leg as she sits down next to me. “You can talk to me. I know something’s been bothering you for a while. At first, I thought you were just upset about school ending and missing your friends, that sort of thing. But something’s going on, isn’t there?”
I take a deep breath and stare down at my blankets. I try to shake my head no, hoping to end this conversation, but it barely twitches.
“It’s … it’s nothing, Nancy.”
“Does it have anything to do with your tattoo? With that boy?”
Her words are soft and without accusation, but that doesn’t stop me from getting offended. I stare at my wrist and sneer. “Of course, because it couldn’t be about anything else, right?”
“Then talk to me, Jen. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me something.”
I can’t, because it is and it isn’t. It’s not about Franco and Lucas, but at the same time it is. I can’t tell her she’s wrong because then the root of the matter will spill over and I’ll never be able to take the words back. The words I know are true but have always tried to pretend like they aren’t. Then she says the exact thing I don’t want to hear.
“No boy is worth this. You’re so amazing, Jen. And the right one will see that and cherish you as such.”
“No, I’m not.”
“What?”
“And they won’t. No one will.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.” I never lift my head, continuing to stare down at my blankets, my eyes beginning to water.
“Why on earth would you think that? Jen, you’re talented and outgoing and―”
“Worthless.”
“Excuse me?”
I finally lift my head, my eyes finding hers, as the tears roll down my cheeks. “I’m worthless, Nancy. I’m not lovable.”
“How dare you?” She spits the words out as if I slapped her. “Don’t you ever, ever think that.”
I can’t stop now. The memory is coming back and it’s all I can think about. “It’s the truth.”
“I don’t know how you could ever, even in the slightest, begin to think that―”
“I’m a mistake!”
“What?”
“I heard her, okay?”
“Heard who?”
The tears stream down my cheeks, remembering it like it happened yesterday. “Please, please just leave me alone.”
“No, Jen, what are you talking about?”
“Please …”
“Jen―”
“My mom! Okay? Are you happy now? I heard her the day she dropped me off.” She stares at me, her mouth agape. “I was four. I shouldn’t even remember, but I do. She left me in the living room and went to talk to you in the kitchen, in your apartment, before we moved here. I heard her.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t move. She just sits there, watching me.
“I remember carrying my favorite toy and walking to the doorway. And I heard her talking to you. Telling you how much she regretted it. How she should’ve listened to everyone and gotten rid of it. The memories are fragmented but they’re there. The one thing that’s not fragmented, the words that I can still remember and can’t forget, was that she told you I was the biggest mistake of her life.”
The tears are still flowing. I’m not stuttering or trying to compose myself to speak straight. The words stream out of me as easily as the tears do.
“If my own mother couldn’t love me, if the one person who should’ve cherished me more than anyone and anything thought I was a mistake, then what hope is there for me?”
“Jen, she loved you. I know she did.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I know what you heard and what you must think, but she did.”
“She didn’t!” I finally break and jump off the couch. “She may not have hated me, as far as I know, but don’t you dare try and defend her. Don’t you dare try and tell me she loved me. If she loved me, why’d she leave? Why’d she give me up? Does a mother who loves her daughter abandon her before she even has her first day of school? Or never send a birthday card? Or teach her how to braid her hair?”
“Oh, baby.” She’s in tears and steps toward me, her arms wide, but I take a step back and put up my hands.
“No! No, she didn’t want me. No one is going to want me.”
I turn around and storm out of the house, grabbing my keys on the way. I’m in my pajamas and barefoot, gasping, trying to catch my breath. The pain and frustration of quietly holding that in has caught up with me, as I get to my car and slam the door shut. Shaking, I wrench my fingers over the steering wheel, I want to sit here and cry my eyes out. But I can see Lucas’ house next door and even though I don’t see anyone, I know there’s a possibility of him being home. Just the thought sends a shudder through me and unleashes a new round of tears. I start up the car and drive to the only place I can think of. Emma’s.
I knock at her front door, my face stained with tears. Her mom opens the door and stares at me in shock. “Jen, mija, what’s wrong?”
I didn’t even think about her parents. Thankfully, Emma must be close by, because she comes to the door and wraps her arms around me.
“Jen, what happened?”
I shake my head, unleashing a new round of sobs into her shoulder as I hug her. Emma brings me inside and we go directly to her room. Her mom follows behind, but Emma stops her at the door. They whisper something before Emma shuts the door and walks back over to me. I’m clutching a pillow on her bed and she slides her arms around me, as I continue to weep.
I’m not sure how much time goes by, but somehow the crying stops. She looks over at me, her eyes asking the question without her lips making a sound, and I go over everything. From the beginning. How I fell too hard for Franco because I wanted to have something like her and Carter. How I’ve always loved Lucas and what happened after the bonfire. And then I get to the argument I just had with Nancy, recounting everything, including the horrible last memory I have of my mother. She still doesn’t say anything. And somehow, probably because I feel like I’m emotionally tortured beyond all limits, I fall asleep.
I wake up a little later to the sound of Emma talking.
“Yeah. No, she’s safe. Yes, of course.”
I stir next to her in her bed and she looks over, giving me a smile.
“I’ll let her know. Okay, bye.” She hangs up her phone.
“Was that Nancy?”
She nods. “She was worried. She sent me a text and I figured I should call her.”
“What time is it?”
“Midnight.”
“Oh, God, Emma, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re fine, Jen. I told Nancy you were spending the night.”
“Thank you,” I squeak out, the embarrassment growing.
“You don’t have to thank me. You’ve always been there for me, of course I’m going to be here for you.” I give her a small smile. “So, what happens next?”
“I don’t know.” I stare at the bed, wrapping myself tighter in her blankets.
It seems like she wants to ask something, but I’m not sure I’m ready to dive back in to the emotional storm I’ve just been through. A tinge of relief washes over me when she looks away for a moment, then back at me with a smile.
“My mom was making horchata before you showed up.”
“Mmm, rice milk,” I say my affectionate nickname for the delicious drink.
“I knew you’d like that. I’ll be right back.”
While she’s gone I realize I don’t have my phone. It’s most likely for the best, because there isn’t anyone I want to check if I have messages from. At least Nancy knows where I am and hopefully won’t be freaking out too much. A pang of remorse hits me, feeling bad for how I stormed out of the house.
“Here you go.” Emma hands me my drink and sits down next to me, her own drink in hand. “You still tired?”
I shake my head, sipping the horchata.
“Netflix?”
I nod. “I was actually doing a Gilmore Girls marathon earlier today. Well, more like this entire week.”
She smiles. “Gilmore Girls it is.”
Chapter 23
Lucas
“Boner check!” Jackson yells out and gives a quick slap to my crotch.
I’m not expecting it, just like the last five times he’s done it, and don’t get my hands up in time to guard myself. I cringe in pain as two girls walking into the movie theatre we just left giggle.
“Shit, man.” I back away from him. “Knock it off. It’s been two weeks already. I should’ve never told you about it.”
He laughs. “No, you really shouldn’t have, cuz I’m using that info as ammunition for years. I still can’t believe she didn’t punch you though.”
“You and me both.”
I told Jackson all about going back to Jen’s, her seeing the texts Sasha sent, and practically throwing me out of her house. Then, waking up to Sasha the next morning, our incredibly awkward make out session, my morning tentage, and the pathetic apology that followed. He took it all in, nodding and seeming to understand. The next day he initiated his ‘boner checks’, which I have not, nor will I ever, get used to. It’s not only embarrassing because he only does it when we’re out in public, but it hurts like a mother.
“Hey, let’s get some Starbucks.”
“All right.” I follow along as we head inside.
As soon as I walk through the door I see Emma standing in line, waiting to order. I scan the entire store looking for Jen, but I don’t see her. I don’t see Carter either. Jackson doesn’t notice her, so I trail behind him, hoping she doesn’t see me and that he won’t recognize her. Of course, he does, and walks up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.
“Hey, Emma.”
“Oh, hey,” she responds, smiling. It leaves her when she sees me. “Hey, Lucas.”
“Hey.”
“Where’s Carter?” Jackson asks.
“Oh, he’s in the bathroom. You guys going to the movies? We just saw Broken Force.”
“Oh, cool. No, we just got out, too.”
“Cool.” She nods and then looks at me again.
“Hey, what’s up guys?” Carter walks up from behind us, slapping me on the shoulder.
“What’s up, man?”
An awkward silence falls between us all. Emma shoots me another look and I have to believe she knows everything that went down between Jen and me. That means Carter knows, too. Jackson knows Emma is Jen’s best friend, so he’s in the loop. And here I am, standing around, starting to once against feel like a jackass.
Thankfully, the line moves forward and Emma steps to the counter, placing her order. Jackson must be able to sense my mood shift because he casts a look my way and I shake him off, reading the menu on the wall in front of us.
After I place my order, I turn around and see Jackson has joined Carter and Emma, talking to them about the movie. I slowly make my way over, still silent, opting to check my phone while they talk.
There’s really no point in trying to bring up Jen or even ask how she is. In the last two weeks, I’ve tried to think of something I could say to her, some way I could let her know that yes, I did screw up, but I didn’t mean it. My first thought was to tell her I wasn’t talking to Sasha anymore, but what good would that do? She’d probably tell me she didn’t ask me to do that, which she didn’t, and use it as a way to tell me how I’m like every other guy out there. Which sucks, because I’m not. She, of all people, should know that. But my track record seems to tell a different story. No matter what I try to think of to say to her or how many days pass where I tell myself it’s over and I need to move on, I can’t.
I finally get my drink and we all leave the coffee shop. As I walk through the door, a feeling of relief hits me, knowing this awkward encounter is finally about to end. Then we start walking in the same direction.
“You guys park over here?” Carter asks.
“Yeah,” Jackson says.
Another minute goes by in silence, when Emma surprisingly breaks it. “You know what? This is dumb. Lucas, what the hell did you do?”
“What?” Even though I know what she’s talking about, I’m still caught off guard.
“How could you do that to Jen? And to that other girl you’re seeing?”
“Emma,” Carter says under his breath, as he tugs at her arm to pull her away.
“No, Carter.” She yanks her arm away and points at me. “That’s a really crap move, Lucas. Cheating on someone, especially when you know how Jen feels?”
“Whoa, whoa!” I raise my hands. “I didn’t cheat on anyone.”
“No?”
“No. I was kind of talking to someone, but we hadn’t even gone out on a date. And I’ll have you know, the very next day it ended.”
“What?”
“Yeah. So before you get all high and mighty, maybe you should get both sides of the story. And how Jen feels? Are you kidding me? She’s pushed me away twice now after kissing me and you know the really screwed up part? I’d let her do it a third time. And a fourth time. And fifth. I’d let her do it again and again because I’m in love with her. Every time I think she might feel the same, she tosses me aside.”
“You’re in love with her?” Carter gapes at me, shocked.
Jackson wears the same expression, while Emma stares at me with empathy. Jen must’ve told her about the lake, so I’m sure she knows I told Jen my feelings, which is why she’s looking at me like I’m a puppy being left at the pound. The awkward silence builds around us.
I answer Carter, but stare at Emma. “Yeah, I am. And I know I shouldn’t be, since she doesn’t want anything to do with me, but I can’t help it.”
Emma nervously bites her lip. “It’s not that she doesn’t want anything to do with you, it’s just …” She trails off, turning to Carter like she’s said too much.
“It’s just that what?” I ask her, then look at Carter, who shrugs.
“Nothing,” Emma answers, staring at the ground.
“No, not nothing. Emma, you know something.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Emma.”
“Lucas, it’s not my place to say.”
“Say what?”
“No, I can’t tell you. It’s not my secret to tell.”
“Secret? What secret?”
“Oh my God.” She shakes her head, slapping her forehead. “It’s not a secret secret. It’s just Jen and the stuff she’s been through.” She takes a deep breath as I stand there hoping she continues. “Lucas, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, but I can’t break her trust like that. But just know, she’s gone through stuff and if you knew, then you’d understand why she’s built these walls around her.”
Or locked herself away. Like the lock tattoo. Maybe that tattoo means more than just locking her heart away from a guy. Maybe there’s a bigger reason she’s afraid of letting me get too close to her?
“I’m sorry, Lucas.”
“No, it’s okay.” I wave her off.
Carter gives me a half-hearted smile before saying good-bye. They walk away, and I quietly follow Jackson to his car.
“Well, that was interesting.” He gives a slight chuckle, as I run over everything in my mind.
I unknowingly betrayed her in eighth grade. I did it again just the other night. Franco thought they were just having fun, when she was falling for him. I know in school she flirted and even dated a couple guys, but nothing seemed serious. There’s something I’m missing, and I have to figure you what it is.
“So, head back to your place?” Jackson asks.
“Actually, you ever been to tattoo shop?”
Jackson’s brow furrows in confusion, but he shakes his head no. I tell him where Butterfly Ink is located, the tattoo shop Nancy runs, and we make our way over there.
It’s a little past eight so I know they’re still open, I just don’t know if Nancy is going to be in. I also don’t know how she’ll react to me being there and what I’m about to ask her. But something tells me I need to do this. I need to try and figure out how to prove to Jen that I love her and make her believe it.
I’ve been to the shop before, though it’s been years. When I walk in, we’re greeted by a girl sitting at the counter.
“Hey, guys,” she greets us. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Oh, no.” I shake my head, scanning the area.
