Page 73 of The Masks We Wear

Sure enough, on the plane ride home, about ten minutes in, she couldn’t even remember my dad. The walls of excitement—of hope, came crashing down in an instant. It reminded me how fragile life is, how nothing is permanent.

It taught me the one thing I’ve forgotten since my mother’s diagnosis.

Hold fast, hold steadyisn’t just a coping mechanism she taught me to keep my cool. It was something my mother would recite when things got tough. When I needed a gentle reminder that nothing is easy, and everything required consistency and work. When the waters get crazy, hold on, ride it out.

And whatever you do, don’t fucking give up.

“Are you excited?” Her soft voice pulls me back to her.

“Yes,” I lie.

The long-awaited science fair is this weekend, and the bus leaves in about thirty minutes. I’m not sure ifshe’sgoing, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see her. I thought about her more than I’d care to admit, mainly about all the things I regret.

“You’re going to win. Don’t you worry about it.” She leans into my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her back, cherishing the ache between my lungs.

Today is the day. Not only for the fair, but my mom’s departure, and no amount of preparation could have got me ready for the train wreck of emotions that are flitting through me. She’ll only be an hour away. Fifty-three miles, to be exact, but it’s not the same.

It’s not like I’m going off to college and leaving her at home. No, I’m taking her to the place she’s more than likely going to die. Alone. Surrounded by people she doesn’t know, mourned by people she doesn’t remember.

Tears prick the back of my lids, the small ache now radiating to every cell in my skin, leaving me wishing I could rip it off. We’ve said goodbye twenty times, and still, it’s not enough.

“Honey.” My mother leans back, craning her neck to look at me. “Please don’t forget what we talked about.”

We talked about plenty, but I know she means Lily. My mom’s never met her, but even when I was a kid, she would say she can see Liliana in my eyes, tied to my soul in a way that only true love is.

When we were in Niagara Falls alone while my dad got us some ponchos, I told her everything. There had been something about the way the water rolled over the cliff, crashing into the water beneath that reminded me of what was going on in my chest. Because when it came to Lily, everything was erratic, a contradiction… torrential.

But after my mother had time to digest my words, she pointed out something else. Like the waterfall, Lily and I were also passionate, graceful poetry with a full roar.

“You don’t give up on something as world-altering as a waterfall, son. And if you loved her, even when you hated her, that’s all you need. Because when I was angry with your father, love was nowhere in sight. That’s when I knew he wasn’t the one. Now, make things right, and get your girl.”

“I love you,” I whisper into her temple, leaving a whisper of a kiss on each one and wiping the lone tear that fell from my face to hers.

She leans into my chest once more before lightly pushing me back to examine my eyes. “I love you most. Now, go win, and I’m not talking about just the fair.”

My lips twitch with a smile, but I don’t give in. Not when there’s so much pain coursing through my veins. “Yes, ma’am.”

I kiss her again before she ushers me out the door, fussing about being late.

When I arrive at the school, I make out the small silhouette of Remy bouncing on her heels, peering at her watch, and saying something to Mr. Jones. His eyebrows are threaded together, and he, too, is checking his watch.

I swing into a spot, grab my bag from the back and haul ass toward the antsy pair.

“Sorry, Mr. Jones. There was traffic.”

Remy’s face splits in a huge smile, and she runs to greet me, throwing her arms around my neck. It soothes some of the ache from earlier, but Mr. Jones is quick to break it up.

“Alright, Mr. Hanes, come now, let’s go. We’ll be late for check-in.”

He escorts us on the bus and points to an empty seat near the front. I keep my eyes down, careful not to search for her. But I don’t need to. I can feel her. Her eyes burn into the side of my face, leaving me shifting in my seat.

Just do it.

My knees move first, turning to the aisle before I twist my body. My pulse thrums against my neck, accelerating to an uncomfortable pace. But when my eyes meet hers, everything stops.

There are no contacts.

Lily’s big chestnut orbs glow with the wide grin curling up the ends of her lips. Her beautiful sun-kissed skin shimmers from the light peeking through the bus window and illuminates a few freckles across her collarbone I never noticed before.

---