Page 41 of Unhinged

“And you would know a lot about free will, right?” For two seconds, Garrison appears sympathetic, which is bullshit.

Amos says, “Greg, this is all my idea. Simone didn’t know you’re from here.”

“Oh, yeah? But she had everything to do with blabbing to you.”

“About what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Amos. She told you, and you ran to my mother.”

His face resembles a prune. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Simone steps closer to me. “I didn’t tell Amos anything.”

“You’re fucking lying.”

Seeing people in the parking lot and on the porch, Mom hisses, “This is not Simone’s or Amos’s fault. It’s mine.”

“You may have brought her here, but she’s the one I can’t trust.” I nod toward Amos. “Him either.”

Amos says, “This is my responsibility. I thought Greg needed a friend, and Simone needed a change. You two became friends—”

“We’re not,” I argue. Garrison glares at me but then looks at the ground. I then turn to my mother. “I want a word alone with her.”

Amos shakes his head. “This is not the time.”

“Make time, Vaughn! If I don’t get a word with her now, then you won’t get another word from me ever.”

Garrison’s frown doesn’t leave me as she says, “It’s fine. I’d like several words with you too.”

Amos sighs, glancing at my mother. “Lizette, shall we?”

“I don’t like this.”

I counter, “You did this. You can at least let me clean up this shit.”

Mom starts to argue, but Amos leads her to the entrance. Before going inside, she says, “Five minutes, Greg. I mean it. I’ll come back for you. There’d better not be bloodshed. Oh, God.”

I ignore her as Garrison and I are at a standoff. When we’re alone, I ask, “So how the fuck goes it? Blabbed any secrets lately?”

Her eyes roam my face and chest. “I didn’t know she was your mother. I’m sorry.”

“Why in the hell would you tell a stranger what happened to me? Are you fucking sick or what?”

“I… I felt sorry for you and wanted to talk about it with a professional. I didn’t know—”

“You just couldn’t wait to tell someone. What about Amos?”

She shakes her head. “I never told anyone else. I thought I was telling my boss in confidence.”

“I thought I told you in confidence! You shouldn’t have told anyone! God! What’s wrong with you?”

Garrison winces, and I regret it for two seconds. “Oh, you know. Just a stupid college girl, fucking up wherever she goes.”

“You got that right. I could…”

“What? Kill me? Go ahead. At least I won’t have to live every day still feeling sorry for an asshole.”

“I don’t need your damn pity.”

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