bubble up, but I push it down.
“I’m thinking of maybe making curry tonight. Another one of your favorites.”
Still nothing.
“Unless you want something else. I could make hamburgers.” My hands tremble, and my eyes fill with tears. I fight to keep my voice steady. In the other room the shower goes on.
Mom picks up her saucer and walks away, into the kitchen. I hear her put the dishes in the sink. She has to walk past me again to get out of the house. I’m glad. She hesitates. I can hear her waiting.
So she knows I’m alive. She knows!
I keep talking. “Or a pizza. I can go with Taylor, you remember him. I can go with him to the store and getwhat we need for that. Fresh basil and mozzarella.” My feet have gotten me up and walked me to the doorway, like they have a mind of their own. My mother stands at the sink. Looking into it. She’s so thin. But she’s dressed to perfection and her hair is done and . . . “What do you think of that?”
When she walks past, she shoves me aside, hard. But I pretend like that hasn’t happened. And that weird mouth of mine takes over.
“I’m here and you know it.”
Mom goes to her room, grabs a sweater from her bed.
Goes to her nightstand and gets her purse.
Outside I hear the horn beep. It’s Taylor, come to get me, the Living Girl. Mom slips off her house shoes and goes to her closet.
I feel so much pain watching her that I can’t hold it in.
Tears stream down my face. The horn sounds again.
“I have two boyfriends,” my mouth says. I wipe at my cheeks.
Her shoes are on. She shoves past me a second time.
She’s touched me! Twice!
“Neither guy knows about the other.” I want to sob, but I don’t.
She’s down the hall. I’m right behind her. I feel like I did when I was three years old, running after her for a hug and she was chasing Zach. Something burns in my throat.
“That’s one of them out there right now. And the other one brings me home to this empty house. With his sister.
She’s called before. You’ve spoken to her. Lili.”
Mom’s at the front door.
“Taylor’s pretty good-looking. Remember him? Zach’s best friend? Check him out when you leave.”
She opens the door and walks away from me to her car, and I feel like screaming I want to scream at her tackle her knock her to the ground make her love me again but instead I say, “I’m having sex with them both,” then turn around and walk back inside to get my school things, after throwing a wave and smile at Jesse!
Not Taylor! who comes toward the front door.
Gosh, I hope he didn’t hear me.
Did he?
How loud was my voice?
Why did I say I was sleeping with Taylor and Jesse?
Why did I say it in front of people?
My heart pounds in my throat.
Does my mother care?
Did it bother her?
It must have affected her a little, or she wouldn’t have run like that.
Except,
except she could have run just because she hates me
so
much.
I had no idea.
Like she had no idea.
How could we know?
But they were fighting with him, not me.
He’d gotten someone pregnant. I hadn’t.
He had depression. They knew.
It wasn’t about me.
But that’s what it’s become.
I have to do a lot of deep breathing before I can step outside.
I stand in the dining room, look toward the foyer, wonder if I can make it to my book bag and then out the door and then to school and then back home again before cracking wide open.
“She doesn’t get the control,” I say to the light over the table. “Or the power. She doesn’t run me anymore. I get to choose.” But the words don’t free me. In fact, I wonder if I’ll even be able to stop crying.
So I stand there. Try to breathe. Try to stop weeping.
Try not to be horrified. And when the knock comes, I let out a yelp of surprise. I can’t go to the door, can’t say anything; I wait, trembling, hoping for a miracle.
The front door opens a bit and Jesse sticks his head inside, and there
“I’m thinking of maybe making curry tonight. Another one of your favorites.”
Still nothing.
“Unless you want something else. I could make hamburgers.” My hands tremble, and my eyes fill with tears. I fight to keep my voice steady. In the other room the shower goes on.
Mom picks up her saucer and walks away, into the kitchen. I hear her put the dishes in the sink. She has to walk past me again to get out of the house. I’m glad. She hesitates. I can hear her waiting.
So she knows I’m alive. She knows!
I keep talking. “Or a pizza. I can go with Taylor, you remember him. I can go with him to the store and getwhat we need for that. Fresh basil and mozzarella.” My feet have gotten me up and walked me to the doorway, like they have a mind of their own. My mother stands at the sink. Looking into it. She’s so thin. But she’s dressed to perfection and her hair is done and . . . “What do you think of that?”
When she walks past, she shoves me aside, hard. But I pretend like that hasn’t happened. And that weird mouth of mine takes over.
“I’m here and you know it.”
Mom goes to her room, grabs a sweater from her bed.
Goes to her nightstand and gets her purse.
Outside I hear the horn beep. It’s Taylor, come to get me, the Living Girl. Mom slips off her house shoes and goes to her closet.
I feel so much pain watching her that I can’t hold it in.
Tears stream down my face. The horn sounds again.
“I have two boyfriends,” my mouth says. I wipe at my cheeks.
Her shoes are on. She shoves past me a second time.
She’s touched me! Twice!
“Neither guy knows about the other.” I want to sob, but I don’t.
She’s down the hall. I’m right behind her. I feel like I did when I was three years old, running after her for a hug and she was chasing Zach. Something burns in my throat.
“That’s one of them out there right now. And the other one brings me home to this empty house. With his sister.
She’s called before. You’ve spoken to her. Lili.”
Mom’s at the front door.
“Taylor’s pretty good-looking. Remember him? Zach’s best friend? Check him out when you leave.”
She opens the door and walks away from me to her car, and I feel like screaming I want to scream at her tackle her knock her to the ground make her love me again but instead I say, “I’m having sex with them both,” then turn around and walk back inside to get my school things, after throwing a wave and smile at Jesse!
Not Taylor! who comes toward the front door.
Gosh, I hope he didn’t hear me.
Did he?
How loud was my voice?
Why did I say I was sleeping with Taylor and Jesse?
Why did I say it in front of people?
My heart pounds in my throat.
Does my mother care?
Did it bother her?
It must have affected her a little, or she wouldn’t have run like that.
Except,
except she could have run just because she hates me
so
much.
I had no idea.
Like she had no idea.
How could we know?
But they were fighting with him, not me.
He’d gotten someone pregnant. I hadn’t.
He had depression. They knew.
It wasn’t about me.
But that’s what it’s become.
I have to do a lot of deep breathing before I can step outside.
I stand in the dining room, look toward the foyer, wonder if I can make it to my book bag and then out the door and then to school and then back home again before cracking wide open.
“She doesn’t get the control,” I say to the light over the table. “Or the power. She doesn’t run me anymore. I get to choose.” But the words don’t free me. In fact, I wonder if I’ll even be able to stop crying.
So I stand there. Try to breathe. Try to stop weeping.
Try not to be horrified. And when the knock comes, I let out a yelp of surprise. I can’t go to the door, can’t say anything; I wait, trembling, hoping for a miracle.
The front door opens a bit and Jesse sticks his head inside, and there
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