Page 21 of Verses

He hadn’t even been out of rehab for a month. What the hell? And was it something I should confront him about?

I barely heard my mother when she actually bothered to shift her attention to me.

“I think you should do that too, Hayley.”

“Do what?”

“Go back to school.”

If I hadn’t been so upset at finding that pipe, I would have burst out laughing.

My mother didnotvalue education—at least she hadn’t when I’d been in school. How many times had she lied to the truancy officer when she hadn’t actually known what the fuck I’d done the day before? Most of the time, she’d simply wanted us kids out of her hair for a few hours.

And, even now, I was pretty sure she was just going for the money.

“Exactly what do you think I should go back to school for? It won’t help me be a better barista or singer or anything like that.”

“No, but you could get a better job—and then you could do that other stuff on the side if you wanted.”

Why did she even care?

But I knew arguing was useless, so I took the path of least resistance. “Yeah. I’ll look into it.”

“Good. Because there’s a lot of jobs they can prepare you for,” she said, continuing to babble on again as if she were now a guidance counselor.

But when I heard keys in the front door, I walked into the living room just as Kyle was coming in.

And I was still holding that pipe.

“Hey, mom,” I said, interrupting her verbal vomit, “Kyle’s here. I gotta go.”

“Oh. Tell him we said hi.”

“Yeah. I will. Talk to you later.” Before she could say another word—because she definitely would have—I hung up the phone. What I really wanted to do was confront Kyle, getting in his face and asking him what the fuck he’d been thinking.

But that wouldn’t be healthy or productive—and it definitely wouldn’t give me the response I wanted. So I waited while he walked to the fridge and looked through it for way longer than necessary, because he finally pulled out a can of Coke. It shouldn’t have been hard to find, considering the only other things in there were Parmesan cheese, ketchup, and baloney.

When he shut the fridge door, I held up the pipe. “Do you want to talk about this?”

“Not particularly.”

“Are you using again?”

“Jesus Christ, Hayley. I just fucking said Idon’twant to talk about it. And what makes you think I’m using again? Just because you found a fucking pipe in the drawer? Acleanpipe, by the way.”

I couldn’t bring myself to argue with him anymore. I was so sick of fighting over every little thing. “Fine. I’m gonna head to the bar.”

“We’re not meeting for—”

“I don’t care.” I wanted to scream at him that I was sick of his fucking face and his shitty attitude—but that wouldn’t have helped anything. I just needed to get away from his toxicity—and my own responsive vitriol. Last night had promised positive change, but it wasn’t manifesting itself right now. “I’ll see you at The Apothecary later.”

“Fuck off.”

“No.Youfuck off, Kyle.” I still had my phone in one hand and the pipe in the other. I refrained from slamming it on the counter, because the last thing I needed was broken glass cutting my hand—but I let myself slam the door on the way out.

It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I’d wanted it to be.

Storming down the sidewalk, it didn’t even dawn on me until I was almost to the bar that I’d forgotten to bring my jacket again. Although I didn’t need it now, I would later after the sun went down.

---