(August)
TIME TICKS BY.
I’m no better. No closer to healing. No closer to accepting.
Days pass as I remain while I watch my mother spiral down, down, down.
Her daily glass of wine has manifested into a daily bottle, but now, she’s traded out wine for vodka. I barely exist to her aside from the moments she needs me to fill the pantry with food, do a load of laundry, or anything else she can’t manage because she’s too inebriated to function. It’s as if we’ve switch spots, and I’m the adult caring for the child. I keep my mouth shut when my frustrations boil because I know the feud will be worthless.
Once pristine lives are now sloppy. Because that’s what she is—a sloppy drunk.
Her boss at the accounting firm she had been working at for the past fifteen years fired her today. When I asked her why, she gave me some BS story about company layoffs, but I saw through her lie. He fired her because she stopped showing up, and when she did drag herself into the office, she’d be unkempt and hungover.
“I ordered us pizza for dinner,” she slurs from the couch in the living room when I walk into the kitchen.
“I’m sick of pizza.”
She doesn’t respond.
I pour myself a glass of water, take a seat at the island bar, and open up my laptop to check my email. My schedule for next year hasn’t been sent yet, so I click on an email from Coach Andrews, which is the swim team’s pre-season two-a-day schedule that starts next week.
My chest tightens, knowing my days are numbered until I’m forced to step back into the life I was violently thrown out of when I flew through the passenger-side window. Summer has allowed me to linger in the void, but in just two weeks, school will start, schedules will resume, and swim meets will be announced. I’ll have to face everyone after hiding out for most of the summer.
The doorbell rings.
“There’s cash in my purse, darling.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed with her.
“Hey!” Linze beams when I open the door. She stands brightly against the night with her platinum blonde hair and personality to match.
“Hey, Linz. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to pick you up.” She steps inside and closes the door behind her. “But you can’t wear that,” she says as she eyes me from head to toe.
“What are you talking about?”
She takes my hand and practically drags me up the stairs toward my bedroom. “If you’d answer your phone, you’d know that Kyle and his friends are throwing a bonfire party tonight. Everyone is going to be there.”
“I don’t want to see everyone,” I mutter under my breath, but my objection is ignored.
Linze takes it upon herself to rummage through my closet, pulling out a few tops and tossing them onto the bed. She then digs through my dresser and grabs several pairs of shorts, adding them to the pile.
“My mom just ordered dinner for us.” It’s the only lame excuse I’m able to grasp on to through my mounting dread.
She turns to me, tipping her head to the side and propping her hands on her hips. “So?” she says, dragging out the word.
“So, I can’t bail on her and leave her here alone.”
“Since when did you become her babysitter? She’s a big girl, Cam. And this is the last big party of the summer.”
I stare at her, willing her to understand.
“Come on. You haven’t showed up to any parties this summer. You’ve been avoiding everyone.”
“Excuse me for not being in the partying mood,” I defend with hostile undertones.
She leans against my dresser and sighs. “I know it’s been hard, but I also know it’s been nearly three months since the accident. Don’t you think it’s time to get out and move on?”
“Move on?”
“You know what I mean.”
I don’t say anything as I try to temper the anger that’s flaring in my chest. Three months and I’m expected to move on. This wasn’t just some breakup or a death of a pet. This was my father. My hero. My blood and bone.
She walks over to me. “You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you. All of us have.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not leaving until you agree to come with me tonight.” She takes my hand and swings it between us as the smile on her face grows. “Pleeeease.”
I know her well enough to know that she’s not going to stop. And now that she’s forced her way into my room, I’m going to be hard-pressed to get her to leave.
“Come on, Cam. One party. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You know you’re forcing me against my will, right?”
“Is that a yes?”
With a loathing sigh, I give in. “I’ll go.”
Her smile grows even wider. “This is going to be so much fun!”
I grind my teeth against her unrealistic expectations. I’m the least fun person in this town at this point. But I keep my mouth shut and go through the movements of getting dressed and applying concealer in an attempt to cover the scar that runs the span of my cheek. No matter how much makeup I apply, there’s no hiding it completely.
“It’ll be dark out there. I doubt anyone will notice,” Linze remarks when she peeks her head into the bathroom.
Easy for her to say. If this scar were on her face, she wouldn’t leave her room until she had a round of plastic surgery to remove the flaw. But I don’t expect her to understand, so I don’t even bother saying anything about it.
“You ready?”
With a shrug, I grab my car keys out of my purse.
“You’re not going to ride with me?”
“In case I want to leave early, I don’t want to take you away from the party.” It’s a lie. Really, the thought of someone else driving terrifies me. I’m nervous anyway when I get behind the wheel, but there’s a sense of comfort knowing I’m in control of the car.
She opens the door, and I follow her down the stairs.
“Go ahead,” I tell her when she walks to the entryway. “I need to tell my mom where I’m going. I’ll meet you outside.”
She aims a finger at me. “No bailing on me,” she jokes.
“Give me one minute, okay?”
She walks out, and I close the door, relieved that she didn’t see my mother in her state of drunkenness. Everyone knows my mother to be a fashionable woman who always has herself pulled together. If anyone saw her half-passed out on the couch, they’d be shocked—and I’d be mortified.
“Mom.” She doesn’t respond as she lies on her stomach with her eyes closed. I shake her shoulder and talk a pitch louder to wake her. “Mom.”
“Hmm . . .”
“I’m going out with Linze. The pizza hasn’t come yet, so you need to wake up.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. I’ll be back later. Text me if you need anything.”
She sits up, struggling for alertness, and does her best to look me in the eyes when she says, “Don’t drink.”
“You know I don’t drink.”
“I mean it. Don’t. I can’t lose . . . I can’t—”
“I know, Mom.” For the first time in a long time, my heart warms, and I don’t feel so forgotten. “I promise you, I won’t do anything like that.”
She nods, and I leave the moment her emotions surface. If I stay to see her heartbreak, I run the risk of my own protective shell cracking.
With one hand on the wheel and my other strapped in my sling, I follow behind Linze as we drive down the vacant country road, past Waterloo where nothing but abandoned fields reside. Billowing clouds of gray smoke against the black sky guide the way, and I veer the car to the side of the road. When I open my door, laughter and music steal the silence.
“You came,” Kroy calls out as he approaches me.
“I was able to work my magic,” Linze gloats.
“More like ambush me.”
“Either way, you’re here.” He grabs me in his arms, excited to see me, and I flinch when he puts too much pressure on my arm. “Sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay.”
“When do you get to take it off?”
“Now,” I tell him. “I put it on because it’s really sore after my physical therapy I did earlier today.”
“I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me you got it off?”
“Didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“It’s a huge deal. It means you can get back into the pool and start building your strength to compete.”
His expectations of me strike annoyance. Getting into the pool is the last thing I want to do.
“Kyle says practices start on Monday,” Linze tells me, and she’s just as oblivious to my mood as Kroy is.
I nod and start walking toward the bonfire, avoiding the discussion of swimming.
“He asked to take me out tomorrow night,” she says.
“Who?”
“Kyle.”
Kyle is a fellow senior and is on the swim team as well. He’s loud and obnoxious, a guy who revels in his popularity. But he’s a damn good swimmer and will often come to the girls’ meets to cheer us on. He’s a good guy.
I give her a smile and nod my head.
“That’s it? Oh my God. Where’s your enthusiasm?”
“Cam!” a few girls squeal when they see me from afar.
Tucked under Kroy’s arm, I tense and press myself tightly against him when all attention turns to me.
“You okay?”
I remain quiet, and when the gap between me and the rest of them closes, I suddenly don’t know how to interact. Kroy removes his protective arm when Kyle holds out a can of beer for him. He pops the tab and throws his head back, chugging as I watch in disbelief.
A few guys cheer him on while a handful of girls giggle.
“Hey, Cam,” Taylor, another swimmer, greets when she steps in front of me.
“Hey.”
She looks over her shoulder at Kroy and says, “You should have seen him at the last party.” She turns back to me. “The guys were playing beer pong, and he got so wasted I had to drive him home.”
I stare at her with a snide look. Taylor and I have never gotten along. She’s got a female hard-on for attention and often lies to get it. Her provocations usually roll off my shoulders—everyone is aware of her snarkiness—but tonight isn’t the night to push my buttons.
“Wow, that’s a nasty scar,” she announces loudly, garnering the attention of a few others, and I shrink into myself without meaning to.
“Go bother someone else,” Linze barks when she steps to my side.
“No harm,” Taylor says before backing off. “See you in the pool on Monday.”
With eyes lingering on me, I take a couple steps back before turning and walking away.
“Cam! Wait!”
“This was a mistake,” I tell Kroy as I head to my car.
Grabbing my arm, he spins me around. “Taylor’s a bitch, everyone knows that.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood to deal with it.”
“She won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.” I want to believe him, but I don’t. Not this time. “Just come back.” He throws his arm toward the party, but all I see is the beer can dangling from his fingertips.
“What are you doing?” I question with distaste on my words.
“What are you talking about?”
“Downing that beer like you have something to prove to those people.”
“Those people? They’re our friends, Cam.”
“Taylor said you got wasted at another party and she had to drive you home,” I accuse, upset that he would be so careless after what happened to my dad. “Is that true?”
“That girl is full of shit, you know it.”
“But is it true?”
“Yes, I got drunk. No, she didn’t drive me home. I got a ride with a buddy. Taylor was in the back seat because she had too much to drink as well. That’s all.”
My eyes fill with disbelief, which sparks a defensive reaction in him.
“What?”
“Why are you acting like this?” I question.
He shifts in his step and tosses the beer can into the grass before shoving his hands into his pockets. I wait for him to respond, and when he doesn’t, I give him my back and walk the remaining distance to my car.
“I miss you,” he calls out to me, and when I look back to him, he’s taking strides my way.
I lean against the side of my car when he steps up to me, braces his hands on either side of me, and drops his head. His breath smells like beer, and I force myself not to turn away. “My dad died because of a drunk.”
“I know.”
“So why—”
“Because I’m torn up inside, Cam.” When he raises his head, I look into his eyes and see a sadness I’m responsible for. “I feel like I’ve been trying to hang on to you for months, but you’re so far away.”
“Kroy . . .”
“Do you still love me?” Fear tangles around his question, but my response comes easily.
“Of course I love you.” I reach up and touch his face. I can’t remember the last time I touched him, or anyone, willingly.
“Then why won’t you let me love you?”
I look at the guy I grew up with. The one who watched me grow from a kindergartener, into the awkward middle schooler with braces, and then into the senior who’s bordering on becoming a young woman. And in turn, I’ve seen him through all the same stages to the young man standing in front of me. I can feel his heart breaking, and I know I can’t continue hurting him with my distance.
“Baby, please. Just talk to me.”
“I feel unlovable.” My voice cracks. “I’m too far beyond lost, and I don’t know how to find my way back. I’m starting to wonder if there even is a way back.”
“I know you’re hurting. But I have to be honest. I feel like you’d rather drown than pull yourself through this.”
Drowning is almost effortless. There’s nothing to it. You simply allow the weight of the water to do all the work as you sink deeper and deeper.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not ready to move on.” Because moving on would mean leaving my father behind. “The last thing I want to do is drag you down with me.”
“What are you saying?”
“I love you. I do. I just—”
“Don’t do this.”
“I can’t be what you need me to be right now. I just can’t. And honestly, I don’t think I’m strong enough to even try.” Sadness loops around the cords of my throat, straining my words as I speak.
“You are.”
“You need to trust me when I tell you I’m not.”
His head falls again before he pulls me into his arms.
“I need time, Kroy.” I choke on the words. “I don’t want to be the reason for your unhappiness. And right now, you’re unhappy because of me.”
“Cam . . .”
“I love you. I’ll say it forever, because I do. But for now, I think we should just—”
With hands that have held mine since we played as children, he angles my head up to his and kisses me. A kiss laced with a pain most teenagers wouldn’t understand. A kiss that heals and wounds all at the same time. A kiss that unites us in love, but also parts us in love. And right now, we know we’ll have to hang on to this very moment when it’s over until I can find the strength to make it through this earthly hell.