“That’s true.” She taps on her phone screen, and I instantly recognize the song she’s chosen.
“Really?”
“So what?” She sounds much too cheerful. Artificially cheerful. “It fits you.”
“‘Not Another Rockstar’ fits me?”
“Yeah. At least a little.” She sighs, and I can sense her shoulders slump. “I saw my grandmother,” she suddenly says.
I involuntarily clench the steering wheel a little tighter. “It didn’t go well?” I guess.
“No. She came to the school. Not to see me, but because she had some meeting with Mr.Pearson. I saw her by chance as she was walking back to the parking lot. I was just on my way to the dorm for lunch.”
“Shit, that’s not good. Did you talk?”
“Only for a few minutes,” she says, and then she tells me about the conversation.
I hate having to concentrate on the road right now. I want to look at her when she’s talking. But I also get the feeling me not being able to look at her right now is the only reason she’s able to tell me all this.
“You know, in a way I understand where she’s coming from. I mean, I didn’t try to get in touch with her either. I made no effort when I lived with her, or after I moved out. It was easy not to talk to her. After all, we barely know each other. Maybe it’s not fair, and maybe I have no right to be mad at her and blame her. But wasn’t it her job to take care of me? And yeah, I know I’m an adult now, at least officially. But I don’t feel like one. I really don’t.” The desperation in her voice pierces my heart. “I don’t know why it bothers me so much now. After all, I spent months not caring whether she was there or not. It didn’t matter to me if we talked. I didn’t evenwantto talk to her, and I still don’t. But I wantherto want it, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it,” I say. I really do, but I don’t like it. Not any of it. Rayne is an adult, yes, but she lost her parents. Her home. Her friends. And her grandmother doesn’t care about her at all. Maybe I’m just biased, and maybe she’s partly right that she could have just as easily reached out herself. Still, I’m on her side.
“I’m a terrible person, aren’t I?”
“No, definitely not. I think it’s very normal to want her to care about you.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yeah. I’d like to give you some wise advice right now, but I don’t have any.”
“That’s okay. You can’t have wise advice for every situation.” Her voice trembles and I glance at her. Now there’s really nothing I can do about it. I put my hand on hers and our fingers intertwine. I squeeze her hand, and the corners of her mouth go up in a faint smile, which quickly fades again.
“It hurt that she came to school and didn’t want to see me. I think if she hadn’t come and I hadn’t seen her, it wouldn’t bother me at all. I probably wouldn’t even be thinking about her.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“But isn’t it a bit hypocritical?”
“Maybe. But I still get it.”
She squeezes my hand and then lets go. I wish she wouldn’t. My hand feels strangely empty without hers in it.
“That’s why I came. Because I knew talking to you would help.”
“I always help when I can.”
“I know. Okay, enough of my whining,” she says. “Where are we going?”
Before
JUNE 2 AT 3:11 AM
eastcoleman:
If you could live anywhere, where would you choose?
mockingbird:
