I couldn’t remember.
But I did see how she flinched when she met my eyes, how she looked back down, how her hands gripped the table, and how she swayed in place as if she were about to collapse.
A silent storm built inside me. I felt a scream in the back of my throat, and as I stared at her—not moving, not looking away—I could feel that scream ripping at my insides.
I was wailing. I was crying. I was pleading for her to look at me again—because what mother doesn’t want to see her child’s face? But no sound came out.
I stood there for another minute. She didn’t look up. It was a reverse staring contest. I was demanding her attention in a passive and peaceful way, and she wasn’t budging.
“I’m still your fucking child.”
Her head snapped back. She was already pale, but her lips seemed to turn blue, and she swallowed.
“I know.” It came out as a whisper.
I moved forward a step and then stopped. She wasn’t saying anything else.
She should’ve been saying something else.
I waited, my heart pounding, and I heard her sniffle.
Her hand brushed over her cheek, and I saw her tears. She was crying so soundlessly, I wouldn’t have known it if she hadn’t moved.
She looked away before she began to speak. “I lost a child, and I have continued to fuck up being the right parent ever since. I work too hard every day to keep my mind straight. I don’t sleep at night because I know you aren’t in bed, but I’m so scared to make demands of you. I know you can make demands on me in return. Your father and I barely talk, except when we go see Robbie, and we haven’t once told you about those visits.” She heaved a deep and shuddering breath. “You don’t sleep at home, but then some nights you are here, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to feel about anything anymore.”
I couldn’t—what did she say? “You know where I am at night?”
She laughed bitterly. “I’ve not been the best mother, but I’m still a mom. You’re goddamn right I have a tracker on your phone.” She stared at me hard. “Are you having sex with him?”
My mind raced, but my stampeding pulse stopped completely. I felt it fall with a thud to my stomach.
“You know?”
Her lips barely lifted in a smile. It was more of a grimace. “Of course. I’ve known, and so do they, Ryan’s parents.”
“I . . .” I had no words.
“Nan called the other day, said you’d screamed in the middle of the night. Ryan put it off on their daughter, but they guessed it was you later on. She didn’t know if I knew or not.”
I felt lightheaded. “How long have you known?”
She took a breath and sat back down. “The first night you didn’t come home. You were with him?”
“You knew then?”
“We didn’t. We guessed.”
“Oh.”
I reached for the chair in front of me and pulled it out. My butt hit it with a hard thud.
My mother laughed again, the sound hollow. “It started that first night, didn’t it? Nan told us how Ryan helped you sleep, and then it continued.”
God.
I gulped.
My throat hurt so much.
Her voice grew thick. “We have never stopped watching out for you, loving you, or thinking of you. But we’ve been selfish, selfish people lately.”
She still wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes remained fixed on her computer.
“I’m supposed to be at the office today, and your father and I were going to go see Robbie, but I couldn’t bring myself to go in. I got ready. I sat in the car, and when your father began to back out, I told him to stop.”
Tears traced down the sides of her face.
“I’ve been working all day here.”
“What about Robbie?” I winced. My voice sounded gruff and hoarse.
“Maybe I’ll go tomorrow.” Her eyes found mine, and they seemed clearer for a moment. It was like seeing the moonlight on a clouded night—one second it was there, and the next second, the clouds closed over it. “Would you like to come?”
A lump the size of the Titanic settled in the back of my throat.
I started to nod, and then I couldn’t stop myself. I kept nodding and nodding. “Yes. I’d like that.”
She stared at my bag on the floor. “Do you have homework to do?”
“I skipped today.”
Her eyes flicked back to mine, and she swallowed. “Really?” She coughed once and frowned. “What did you do today?”
“We went to Ryan’s friend’s house.”
Her head shook once. It was swift, an abrupt movement. “Was there drinking?”
“Yes.”
We’d had almost no communication for weeks, and it was as if the dam had opened, and I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to get in trouble. I wanted . . . I wanted to be normal again.
“Sex?”
Okay. That wasn’t one of the things I wanted to share. “No.”
“No as in ever, or no as in today?”
Her eyes were beady and staring hard.
Damn. She had me.
“No as in today.”
Her eyes closed, and her chest lifted in a silent breath. “Okay. That answers the question you avoided. You and Ryan have had sex?”
My tongue felt heavy. “Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
She looked up, her eyes wet. “Was last night the first?”
I nodded as my throat closed.
“Ever?” That word was hoarse.
I nodded.
“So you’re no longer a virgin?”
I felt my tears then. They rolled down my cheeks and somehow, I felt a piece of me fit back in the right place.
“Yes.”
Her shoulders began to shake. She lifted balled-up fists to her mouth and hunched over, shoving her chair back. Her head rested on the table as she cried.
I couldn’t hear a sound. Still.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“She knows everything?” Ryan asked.
I lay on my bed later that night, my phone to my ear. “They’ve known about it the whole time.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” I rolled to my back.
I could hear music blaring in his background and assumed he was still at Kirk’s. He’d texted a few times since I’d gone, so after the meltdown with my mom, I called him. He needed to be warned about what was coming. I’d also had to fess up about not going to see Robbie.
“You lied?” he’d asked, his voice sounding off.
“I didn’t want to be a clinger and make you hate me for being all fucked up in the head.”
He laughed. “I’ve never told you, but I think the reason I let you stay in my bed that first night was because of how fucked you are in the head.”
I sat up. “No way.”
“The more fucked up they are, the more I like them.”
I rolled my eyes, hearing the teasing in his voice. “You’re messing with me.”
He laughed again, a short bark. “Yeah, I am. You aren’t that messed up, and if I’d met you without everything that happened, I still would’ve wanted you. I can tell you that much. You don’t have to worry about me.”