Chapter Thirty-Six
Nina
Not being able to tell anyone about the insanity at West’s house was making me crazy. Normally, I told Lisa everything, but I knew I couldn’t share this. Why wasn’t West responding to my text? Maybe he was eating dinner.
I felt so sorry for him and for his mom. She seemed like a lost child, rather than a parent. None of that made up for the fact that he’d lied to me. I’d bared my soul about my dad, and he’d smiled and nodded, listening to my sob story. Why hadn’t he told me the truth? Didn’t he trust me? I was his girlfriend.
This had been one hell of a Monday. I texted West again. No response. I didn’t want to annoy him, but I needed some sort of answer. Maybe him not calling me back was his response. Or maybe he was trying to cope with the fact that I knew the truth about his mom.
The next morning after I got ready for school, I checked the driveway. West sat in his car, reading. Or pretending to read. Maybe that was how he avoided conversation.
I walked out and climbed in, putting on my seat belt in silence, waiting for him to say something. He started the car and drove. Still nothing.
“You never texted me back.”
“Sorry.” His voice sounded oddly flat.
“How’s your mom?” I asked.
“Fine.”
Was this One-Word-Answer Day? “And your dad?”
“Not fine.”
Okay we’d moved up to two words. “Anything you’d like to get off your chest?”
“No.”
Okay. Time to jump in and get the awkwardness out of the way. “I understand you’re upset, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I told you never to go to my house,” he said. “And you did.”
“Only because your mom waved me over.” How did he not understand this? “Besides, you saw her. Gidget made her happy.”
“The cardboard tubes from paper towel rolls make her happy. Five-year-old junk mail makes her happy. Every straw that’s ever been used in our house, which she keeps in Ziploc bags, makes her happy.”
Oh my God. “She keeps used straws?”
“Yes. And the bags eventually fill up with mold. And my father lets her keep them in Rubbermaid storage containers in their bedroom because he loves her and doesn’t want to upset her.”
Holy crap. That was beyond disturbing. “Can’t she go see a counselor?”
“She’s been to five. None of them made any difference.”
He sounded so defeated. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. It doesn’t make any difference though, does it?”
After that, there wasn’t much to say. We walked through the parking lot, but he didn’t hold my hand. He didn’t kiss me at my locker. He walked off in a daze like he was an emotionless robot.
“What’s up with West?” Lisa asked.
I wanted to tell her about his mom, but if I did, and he found out about it, he’d never forgive me. So I went with the simplest explanation. “Family problems.”
“That stinks. Maybe he should talk to my mom.”
That gave me an idea. “If I talked to your mom about him, would she offer suggestions? Tell me things I could maybe do to help?”
“I don’t think it works that way. You can only talk about your own issues.”
“Crap.”
West didn’t join me at lunch, but he did approach every table to hand out stacks of fliers. Every table but ours.
Lisa stood and went over to another table and nabbed a flier for us. She brought it back to our table and held the flier so I could read it, too. It made a compelling case, listing the amount of items the average recycling center saved from landfills every year. There was also an ad for Paula’s Pizza Pies, which instructed people to sign the petition on the bulletin board by the front office if they wanted to be entered into a drawing for a family dinner consisting of pizza, a salad, and breadsticks.
“We may need to up our game,” Lisa said.
“How?” I asked. “Get your mom to offer a free counseling session?”
She laughed. “Uhm…no. We could offer some fancy bookmarks or a book light.”
“A bookworm-themed gift basket?” That might work. “We could add a coffee cup and some cocoa to round it out.”
“Not to be a downer, but I’m not sure it’s worth the effort. And what happens if people sign both petitions?” she asked.
“Good question. As with everything else going on in my life, I have no answers.” Although I did have one answer. I now knew why West was so passionate about turning the library into a recycling center. How could he live in that house? All those boxes stacked on top of each other had to be a safety hazard and a fire hazard, not to mention a health hazard.
Why wasn’t there any way to help his mom? The look on her face when she’d talked about her collection had been almost eerie. She believed those boxes of crap—moldy straws and God knows what else—were treasures worth keeping. If someone I loved started acting like that, I’d want to stage an intervention with a Dumpster.
“Earth to Nina.” Lisa stood holding her backpack. “Time for class.”
“Sorry.”
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
“I know why West is crabby, but I don’t know how to help.”
After school, he was no better. When he pulled the car into the driveway and parked, I hoped he’d want to talk. He exited the vehicle. I scrambled out and after him.
“Hey, why don’t you come to my house for dinner tonight.”
He kept walking. “No thanks,” he said without turning around.
Ugh. Did he need time to pout? Was that it? His life wasn’t any different today than it was yesterday. I knew the truth about his family, which he should have told me in the first place. If anyone had a right to pout it was me. But I was trying to be the levelheaded one in this situation. Because one of us had to be. If we both sulked, life would never go back to normal.
While I understood why he was upset, I didn’t understand why he was shutting me out. In times of trouble, you were supposed to turn to the people who cared about you, not run away from them. And I did care about West. If it was so easy for him to shut me out, did he care about me?
I could ask him…if I followed him to his house and knocked on the back door, but I doubt he’d respond positively to that maneuver. So, I headed to my house and to the one person I knew would always be happy to see me. Gidget bounded up to greet me in her usual ecstatic fashion, spreading joy and fur. I hugged her and rubbed her ears.
“Want some banana bread?” I asked.
She did her excited food dance and followed me to the kitchen. With the dog’s help, I finished off the third of a loaf that was left. Then I retrieved one of the many loaves my mom had put in the freezer and set it on the counter to defrost. Wait a minute. I set a second one on the counter and toyed with the idea of taking it to West’s mom. Maybe I could give it to West, now that I knew germs weren’t an issue.
I was still pissed about him lying to me, but I understood why he did it. Instead of trying to cover up something he’d done, he was trying to protect his mom.