Authors: Cheryl McIntyre
“My first thought was that she was involved in the accident. Maybe she was the one driving drunk and you didn’t want to tell me…” She trails off and I’m fighting to catch up. She’s talking about Hope, I’m fairly certain, but I don’t know where she’s going with this.
“Then after I thought about it, I figured that would be too big of a secret to hide and that other boy was arrested. It seemed too unlikely he would be willing to go to jail for her.”
She finishes the CD’s and dusts her hands off on her jeans as she pivots to face me. “So then I thought maybe she tried to kill herself. Let’s be honest, the girl has been through a lot.” Mom shakes her head sadly. “You always want to save people. Just like your dad.”
My eyes burn and I close them so tightly I see white. “Mom…”
Clearing her throat, she continues. “I asked Kellin.”
My eyes pop open and I swallow hard.
Don’t do this. Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this.
“My twelve year old watched his big brother’s girlfriend purposely take a curling iron to her flesh and burn her arm.” Her voice drops and she looks sick. “He said he could smell it, Mason. I will not let my children be subjected to that.”
Fucking Kellin. Fucking big mouth Kellin. I might puke. I might actually puke right here on the carpet of our shitty, month to month leased house.
“You knew. Didn’t you?”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
It’s all clicking quickly, piecing itself together in my mind. That’s why Illinois. She knew I wouldn’t go. She knew I would choose Hope. So she’s tempting me with home. Using Dad and our memories to get me to do what she wants.
“I cannot believe you would take your brother over there around that.”
“Around that?” I ask, my voice rising.
“That girl is sick, Mace. She needs help. Kellin should never have seen something like that. Ever. I have done everything in my power to protect you kids. To shield you from things like this—”
I huff out a dry laugh. “Protect us? Shield us? How? By moving us every five minutes? Not letting us have friends? Stability? That’s such bullshit and you know it.”
“You have friends.”
“Now! Now I have friends. And you’re taking me away from them, Mom.”
“I’m doing what is best for you both. He’s too young to have to deal with something so big and scary.”
“He’s dealt with worse.” She knows I’m referring to Dad dying. To our father being beaten to death down the street from his home while we sat on the couch watching TV.
“I had no control over that. But I do over this. I can put a stop to
this
.”
“By moving him again?”
“Last time. I promise you. You can graduate from the same school as your dad.” Her voice hitches up an octave sounding hopeful.
That is all I ever wanted. And she knows it. It’s so low that she would dangle this in front of my face. I put my hands on the top of my head and try to breathe. Fuck. I’m going to cry.
“
Kellin can grow up where Dad grew up. Go to the same schools. Visit the same places. You can pass on all the stories Dad told you.”
That’s how it
should have been all along. Can I take that away from him?
“What do you say?” Mom moves toward me hesitantly. “You and Kel can check out the two places I found and choose where we live.” Her eyes are flicking over my face quickly.
“I love her.”
Her face doesn’t change.
“I know you do.”
“I don’t want to leave her.” I am
definitely going to be sick. I run to the bathroom and dry heave with my head in the toilet. Mom’s there, placing her hand on my back.
“Everyone leaves her,” I rasp, struggling to get the words out.
“I can’t do that to her. I can’t be like everyone else. She needs me.”
Mom pulls my face up to look at her. “We need you. I need you.
Kellin needs you. This is what you wanted. I’m giving it to you. And maybe Hope will get the help she needs. If you aren’t there making her think all she needs is you. Because you aren’t enough, Mace. She needs professional help. Please tell me you understand that.”
I do. I know I’m not enough. If I were, she wouldn’t keep hurting herself. But if I leave and she hurts herself again, or worse…
Fuck.
I dry heave
again. When I can catch my breath I slam my fists down on the toilet seat. I shouldn’t be this torn. I should be stronger. I should be able to tell Mom no. I don’t need to go back to Illinois. I don’t need to go home. I need Hope.
So why the hell can’t I say it?
Why do I want this so bad?
My eyes fill and there’s nothing I can do as the tears slide down my cheeks and splash onto my shirt.
“It’s for the best,” Mom says. “I can talk to her foster parents. Make sure she gets the help she needs.”
“No.
You
can’t do that
to her.”
“They need to know. You aren’t a parent, so you don’t understand. If it were you, I would want to know. I’d need to know. They can take care of her.”
No they can’t. That’s my job. I’m supposed to take care of her. I’m supposed to calm her when she freaks out. I’m the one that’s supposed to always be there. Hugging her. Kissing her. Protecting her.
Loving her
.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me choose.”
She brushes the hair out of my eyes and caresses my cheek, wiping away the moisture. “It will be okay.”
I shake my head. It will never be okay. Hope is going to hate me. I’m going to hate
me. I hate myself already.
I slump back against the wall and bring my knees up in front of me. My hands fall to the floor at my sides and I stare at the sink. I’ll make this work. We won’t be that far apart. We can switch off and see each other a couple wee
kends a month. It doesn’t have to be permanent. I could go just long enough to finish school. Hope and I could do the long distance thing for eight months. Then I could come back and we could go to college together. We could move back there after we graduate. Together. She could see where I came from. She’ll love Chicago.
It’s not forever.
Hope won’t really be alone. She has Guy and Chase. And she and Annie will make up. There’s the twins and Addie. Dylan will keep her busy. Misty. And Park.
I thud my head against the wall a few times. If she ends up back with Park… I don’t know what the fuck I will do.
But I can’t be pissed about it if I’m leaving.
No. She’s mine. She told me that herself. She won’t run to Park just because I’m a couple states away.
A couple states away.
States away.
I close my eyes and Mom backs out of the room, giving me space. I can hear her moving around, packing. I stay where I am. Too weak to make her stop. Too weak to help her.
I give in to the rage boiling inside and slam my fist into the wall.
I’m such a bastard.
40
Hope
It’s weird not having Mason with me. Not that Chase isn’t good company. It just feels weird. Not even a full day since I’ve seen him and I miss him like crazy. I pull into Park’s driveway and kill the engine. But I don’t get out yet. I need a minute. I hadn’t realized I was angry with him until we got to his house.
I have a startled realization. I’m so mad at Park because he purposely did something that hurt him. Just like I do—all the time.
This helpless, betrayed feeling is what Mason feels every time I do something to myself. I mean, I knew this already, but I didn’t
understand
it until this moment.
“Are we going in or…are we staying in the car all day?” Chase’s hand hovers by the handle, waiting.
I nod. “Let’s go.”
Park opens the door before we knock. His eyes are both blackened. I don’t know if it’s from his broken nose or the fight prior to the accident. He looks terrible. I glance down at his fingers, expecting to see them dark with fingerprinting ink. They aren’t. I think they do that with a computer now.
He moves past us and sits on the top step of the porch and lights up a cigarette. My hand itches to pluck it from his lips and throw it in the yard. But I don’t have that right anymore. As his friend, however, I still scowl and make a spectacle of waving the smoke away.
One side of his mouth turns up in smile. “Let’s get it over with,” he says.
“Get what over with?” I ask.
“You came here to either berate my ass or beat it. I’m tired. Didn’t sleep well in jail. So get on with it. I wanna go back to bed.”
“I am mad at you for being stupid, but I didn’t come here to yell at you.”
“I did,” Chase huffs. “I’m here to smack some sense into you.”
I grin at him. Chase thinks he’s such a badass since he “single handedly served Christian Dunkin his ass to him on a platter.” I’m pretty sure that first surprise hit he got on Christian was the only one.
Park smiles too as he blows a puff of smoke out. “You forgot your army.”
“I don’t need one,” Chase says, insulted. He gestures at me. “Hope’s all the backup I need.”
“Hope can kick my ass by herself. You aren’t as gifted in that department.”
“We’ll ask Christian about that.” Chase lowers himself beside Park and plucks the cigarette from in between his fingers and tosses it down, stepping on it.
“What the fuck?”
“You need to get your shit together man. Quit being dumb. Quit smoking. Quit drinking so much. Quit driving drunk.”
“I got it,” Park says, his voice sharp. “I know what I did. I don’t need you to tell me.” His jaw works as he looks out at the driveway where his car should be, but isn’t. “How’s Guy?”
“He’s doing really well,” I offer. “He’ll be in the hospital for a week or so. Hopefully less.”
“You should go see him,” Chase says dryly. “Apologize for almost killing him.”
With a tight nod, Park stands up. “I’m going to bed.”
“That’s it?” Chase cuts him off before he can open the door. I stay where I am, not sure what I want to say or do yet.
“That’s all I got,” he says with a shrug.
“That’s pretty weak,” I counter softly.
Park turns his glare on me. “Add that to my list of faults. I’ll review it later.”
I don’t know who I’m disappointed in. Me for not pursuing the issue? Park for acting like he doesn’t care? Both of us for being cowards? All I know is it consumes me as I watch him walk inside, swinging the door closed behind him.
~***~
My day drags without Guy and Mason. Chase takes off after Park’s house. Annie and I still can’t be around one another without murder plots being formed in our minds. Now I’m lying on the couch, dreading going upstairs where I have to share a room with her.
I pull my phone out and text Mason.
Me: I MISS U.
Him: MISS YOU TOO.
Me: WHAT WAS IT U TOLD UR MOM ABOUT PLAYING DR?
Me: I COULD COME OVER & SEE IF I COULD MAKE U FEEL BETTER.
Him: NO. DON’T WANT YOU GETTING SICK TOO.
I sigh. He must really feel horrible if he’s turning down sex. That makes me miss him more. I want to make him feel better. He’s always trying to take care of me.
Me: I DON’T CARE ABOUT GETTING SICK.