“No, yeah. No, everything—everything’s good. I was just, I just… I was hoping to ask a-a favor, if that’s not too much?—”
“‘Course,” he responds easily, making my breathing a bit easier.
“Right, okay. So, uh, something’s come up, and well, I was hoping it…” The sound of Mom’s heels sound in the hall outside my door, and my stomach lurches. I slam my lips together. Fearful vomit is going to spew up my throat any moment. I breathe heavily through my nose, forcing as much air in as I can, hoping it curbs the waves that nearly blind me.
“Madison?”
“Jus’a sec,” I rasp as I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Spots dance behind my eyelids as she hammers on my locked door.
“Madison, get out here right now! I’m on the phone with your father, and he’d like tospeak to you.”
Oh, God.
“Is everything okay?” I can barely hear Kane over my mother. I drop onto my bed and yank a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. Can I move in?” I blurt.
“Uh, yeah? I thought that’s what was going on.” He laughs, and it sounds warm.
“I mean like… now.” I scrunch my eyes shut, preparing for the refusal.
“Yeah?” he says it like a question. “I mean, I don’t supposewhy not. It’s not like anyone else is living here. Hold on. Let me ask.”
I tap my fingers against the pad of my thumb, back and forth, over and over, counting to five and back down.
“Hey, guys!” Kane shouts. He must be holding the phone against his chest because it’s muffled, but I can still hear everything. “Do you care if Madison moves in early?”
“Don’t give a shit.”
“Sure.”
“Come on over, buddy!”
“Yep, all good with us. When were you thinking?” Kane starts talking again like there wasn’t a lapse in the conversation. I heave out a large breath as tears spring to my eyes. My throat is closed off, but I try not to let it sound as I answer him.
“T-today?” I stutter. “I live a few hours away, and I have to finish packing, but I can be there later.” It doesn’t come out as more than a whisper, but that doesn’t seem to bother Kane, which is…nice.
“Sounds good. Why don’t you just text me when you’re leaving so I can make sure we’re all home to help you get your shit inside.”
“W-wow, really?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, man.”
“Oh, uh, okay.”
“Cool. See you in a bit, Madison.” A click sounds, and then, the call disconnects. I leave my phone pressed to my ear because the quiet lingering is a much better sound to focus on than Mother screaming outside my door. But after a few minutes of her continuous comments, I push the pillow away and walk to the door.
Placing my palm against the wood, I drop my forehead to it. “Mom.”
“Madison!”
I wince, eyes scrunched shut. “Please stop.” I hate the tears I feel brewing.
“I certainly willnot!This is absurd! Your father’s on his way home—in the middle of work, mind you—to deal with this!”
That means I have a half hour at most, with traffic this time of day. I let my head drag against the wood a moment before I push back to grab my bags shoved in my closet. They’re heavy as I set them on my bed, then look around my room, feeling oddly detached.
Most of the things I own aren’t evenmine.They’re just things Mother used to “decorate,” and I don’t feel much of anything knowing I’m leaving it all behind.
