Part 13 (1/2)
”Liam.” Mom glances at the clock on the microwave. ”Unzip that middle suitcase. The purple one, then go tell Clara goodbye. We should have left five minutes ago if we're going to make this work.”
”Good. This is good.” Liam's shoulders loosen and then he mock swats the back of my head. ”You heard Mom, start listing things, Encyclopedia-freak.”
”Don't hit your sister and don't call her that.” Mom reprimands him with all the pa.s.sion of an answering machine recording as she drops the contents in her hands into the already overstuffed suitcase.
Mom straightens, places three fingers over her lips as she focuses on the mound of stuff, then mumbles a list of items-socks, pants, toothbrush...
I'm frozen to the ground, my entire body becoming solid. ”What's going on?”
Her head jerks up like she forgot I was here, which means she did. ”Oh, yes. Bre. You are very much needed to make this work.”
She plucks an elastic band off her wrist and wrestles her short black hair into a ponytail. Mom rarely does this except when she's fl.u.s.tered. It's a vanity issue as the gray shows near the base of her neck. ”I need you to take care of your younger siblings while I'm gone.”
There's that word again-gone. Panic sets in as a trembling in my hands. ”Will you please tell me what's going on?”
”It's Clara,” she says. ”You know how upset she was that she didn't graduate this spring and that your father and I are having her pay her tuition this year. Well, your father talked to the college. The administration worked with us and they agreed to let Clara into the fall courses she thought were closed. I'm driving her into Nashville tonight and we're going to be staying with Nora.”
We're? As in Mom and Clara are staying overnight with my oldest sister? ”When will you be back?”
Mom's face pinches like either I won't like the answer or she won't. The way my sugar level plummets, I'm thinking it'll be me.
”Two weeks,” she says.
The world tilts. ”Two weeks? I thought Dad was going to be working crazy hours and you were going to be taking time off from your job so you could handle his responsibilities and isn't he supposed to be traveling for part of it and why are you leaving with Clara?”
Mom waves her hand to ward off my verbal meltdown as if she's air patting me like a dog. ”Calm down. Yes, your dad is busy. Yes, he will be out of town for part of it. Yes, I did take time off from work, but no, I won't be here. I'll be spending the two weeks with Clara. Your dad and I discussed it this morning. We have complete faith you can keep this house going. I'm sure Liam and Joshua will help, but, Bre, if anyone can run this house, it's you. We know you can do this. Out of all of my children, you are the responsible one. My thinker.”
Mom grins at me like I should be happy. When my response is my wide-open mouth, she continues, ”I need you to understand. Clara needs me.”
She needs her? Is Clara being blackmailed? Will Clara's future be destroyed with a click of a b.u.t.ton and one post on the internet? ”Are you kidding me?”
”You'll be fine,” she coos like I'm Elsie and she's trying to convince me to bathe. ”You're the one that is always fine. You have practically raised yourself since birth. You run this household better than I do. Dad's okay with you ordering takeout and everyone will have to understand you can't get them to every practice.”
My head is shaking or it's me shaking or it's the entire kitchen shaking. ”But you don't understand. I need to talk to you.”
Liam and Clara walk into the kitchen. They're both smiles until they see me. Actually, Liam still is, but Clara's lips fall into a sneer.
”Liam, Clara, carry this stuff to the car,” Mom says. ”The bursar's office is giving us until six tonight so we can get you into those cla.s.ses.”
My brother and sister hoist multiple boxes and luggage and Mom's giving me a verbal list of things I already know, like what time to start baths and who is on what round of antibiotics and lots and lots of stuff that means she's not listening to me.
Nausea roils in my stomach and her words become m.u.f.fled and Clara and Liam laugh and my world is cras.h.i.+ng around me. The pressure is mounting and my skin feels too tight.
”I need to talk to you,” I say, but Mom's lecturing over me about how she's concerned Zac isn't coming straight home from school and that I need to stay vigilant with his time.
”There's this thing that happened at school.” My voice is becoming higher in pitch and Mom's progressed to describing Elsie's problems now, and then Clara asks Mom where the keys are for the car, and when Mom pauses to answer my sister, I explode.
”They're there, Clara! By the door. On the hook. Where the keys always are. Where everyone in this freaking room can see, but that's not what it's about, is it? You have to be the center of everything and right now the entire world does not revolve around you!”
”Breanna!” Mom roars. ”That is uncalled-for!”
”Selfish much?” murmurs Liam. Shame heats my face, but what causes the tears to burn my eyes is the s.a.d.i.s.tic lift of Clara's mouth. Mom never yells at me. The perfect, responsible daughter is plunging from the pedestal Clara created for me and Clara gloats in her victory.
”Go outside,” Mom says to Liam and Clara, but it's me she pins with her ticked-off gaze. ”Get the car ready. We're leaving in minutes.”
The moment the door closes, I suck in a breath. ”I'm sorry, but you don't understand-”
Mom cuts me off. ”I know I'm asking a lot from you and I know Clara has not been very good to you over the past two years.”
Try since birth. In fact, for years she's done nothing but dump the burden of her unhappiness onto me.
”But your sister needs me.”
I attempt to rush out the truth. To tell her about the weekend, to tell her about Kyle, to tell her I'm scared and terrified and that I crave nothing more than to be six and climb onto her lap and let her chase the monsters away, but my mother steps forward and places her hands on my cheeks, hampering any hope I had of confessing.
Mom's hazel eyes soften as they bore into mine. ”Clara isn't like you. None of us are like the two of you, but Clara struggles with this gift. This past year almost broke her, and when she didn't graduate, I thought your sister was going to enter a depression I couldn't dig her out of.
”Your dad called in a favor and we transferred her to a school near Nora. We're hoping that staying with Nora will help ground Clara. Cla.s.ses started last week, so she's already behind. If she focuses, then she can graduate this December. I'm staying for two weeks to help her get organized, to help her catch up on work she's missed, to help her with her confidence. Honey, these are things I don't expect you to understand because you're the one who has it together.”
Her words are like small razor blade slices to my soul, and even though it's just a trickle of blood at a time from each wound, I'm slowly bleeding out. A bead of something warm escapes my eye and Mom catches it with her thumb.
”But there's this boy at school...” I start, but Mom talks over me.
”And I want you to tell me, but not now. I'm late and I need to focus on Clara.”
My throat tightens. ”But I need you.”
Mom tilts my head so I have no choice but to spot her sincerity. ”When I return, I am a hundred percent yours. I promise you. Right now, your sister needs me more. I'm depending on you, and your dad is depending on you. This project is a make-or-break moment for him. He needs to focus on that. I need you to focus on this family. I am begging you not to let me down.”
But I already have. I've let her down in so many ways that she'll be sickened to look at me. I need my mother so desperately. I need help, but there's no hope to be had. Before I can respond with a yes or a no or before I could throw myself to my knees and beg for mercy, my mother collects her suitcase and leaves me utterly and completely alone.
RAZOR.
”HOW'S LIVING WITH CYRUS?” Chevy asks. It's before school and the two of us are leaning against the lockers near my English cla.s.s. Chevy's looking out for Violet's younger brother, Stone. I'm searching for Breanna.
She sent a text last night I didn't see until this morning: We need to talk. Can we meet before cla.s.s?
I texted back yes, but nothing more from her.
Because of my absence yesterday, the last time I saw her she was climbing into a car with her friends at Shamrock's. She texted me Sat.u.r.day to confirm she received the code, so I know she made it home safely, but there's this itch to see her I can't shake.
It's both annoying and addicting.
Breanna Miller-the girl with soft skin and gorgeous hazel eyes. Breanna Miller-the girl who can tell me about the Milky Way. h.e.l.l, she can probably tell me about anything.
”Are you smiling?” Chevy asks. ”s.h.i.+t, you're smiling again. That's the second time in days. Gotta admit, that scares the h.e.l.l out of me.”
I sober as I answer his first question. ”Everything at Cyrus's is good.” Since I left home, Dad and I have had no communication. Not sure where that leaves either of us.
”Does the s.h.i.+ft in your normal f.u.c.k-off att.i.tude have to do with what you've got going on with Breanna Miller?”