“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” Mum accuses as I sit down. “I know you must have seen them. You’re always on your phone.”
I feel Alec lean against the back of my chair. “Sorry,” I say, wrapping my hands around my warm mug. “I’ve been busy.”
“Evidently.” She looks at the three men scathingly. “You said you were done being messy online. You said that you’d stop creating public scandals.”
“I, um, don’t think my relationship constitutes a scandal—” I start weakly.
Mum ignores me. “And yetI can’t go online without seeing pictures of my daughter draped across three men in a club. People keep emailing them to me. It’s a circus.”
I wince. Okay, I do feel bad. It’s easy enough for me to drop a bomb and then hide up in the countryside with my phone turned off, but I never meant for my mum to feel the fallout. “I’m sorry,” I say honestly. “It’s really unfair that this is affecting you in any way.”
Alec clears his throat. “If anyone should be apologising, it should be us, Mrs Faye. We were the ones who approached Summer in that club. Summer didn’t even know we were in the city.”
Mum doesn’t even look at him. “You’re an adult,” she snaps at me. “Take responsibility. Do you think anyone will want to hire me to protect them in an abuse case, when the first thing that pops up when they google me is a video of my daughter acting like a total airhead? Are you really so desperate for attention that you’d set up a publicity stunt like this?”
Alec straightens. “MrsFaye—” he booms.
I pat his chest. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “Mum, this isn’t a stunt.”
She stares at me. “Excuse me?”
“Meet Fraser, Cameron, and Alec. My boyfriends.”
Fraser lifts a cheerful hand. Alec and Cameron stay stony.
Mum looks between the three men as if she’s seeing them for the first time. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t have three boyfriends.”
“I, er, don’t think that’s a real rule,” I say. “I know it’s unusual, but I’m with all three of them, and I’m really happy. I am sorry that the video is affecting your work though. If there’s anything I can do or say to help, I will.”
Mum is silent for a few long moments. Then she sighs heavily. “Oh, honey.” She pulls her phone out. “I know what this is. I’m calling Dr Roberts.”
It takes me several seconds to place the name. “My…psychiatrist from secondary school? Why?”
“You’re clearly struggling.” She stabs at her screen. “This is impulsive behaviour. I should have seen it sooner. First, you’re bursting into tears over your lipstick, then you’re quitting your job and coming to live on some Scottish farm. This isn’t how serious adults act. We should look into switching your meds. This is just too much.”
Too much.
I don’t move. I feel an old, old pain rising up inside me, winding its way around my throat.
Mum keeps talking. “You were always like this, even as a kid.”
“…Polyamorous?” I choke out.
She huffs. “Thoughtless.Impulsive. Always running after what felt good. You’d get obsessed with some shiny thing for a few weeks and then drop it. I mean, you couldn’t even finish your degree, for God’s sake, and it was inclothes.You had this big dream of being some hot-shot fashion designer, but when the time came for you to actually put in any work, you got bored. And now you’ve latched onto thisshamof a relationship?—”
There’s a loud scrape as Cameron stands, shoving his chair out. Before he can say anything, I speak up.
“I’ll never make you happy, will I?” I ask her.
Mum blinks at me. “Excuse me?”
My eyes are blurring. I am so angry I’m shaking. “My whole life, I’ve tried to make you happy. I’ve tried sohard. I’ve tried to get good grades. I’ve tried to sit still and be quiet. I’ve tried not to bother you or need anything. And it’s never worked, has it? I’ll never be good enough for you.”
She scoffs. “Please. You’re being dramatic.”
“I just told you that I’m in a relationship that makes me happy, and you told me I should be medicated so I can act more normal! I’ve been bullied online for months, and you never once asked me if I was okay! All you ever do is criticise me and make me feel like shit, and…and I’m done,” I say.
Mum rolls her eyes. “Please. I’m not criticising you. I just want you to stop embarrassing yourself. I’ve spent my whole life cleaning up your messes.”
