Page 97 of Don't Let Me Go
Aunt Rachel got an earful, though. A few hours after he chewed me out on my birthday, Dad called her. She wouldn’t tell me what he said, but I’m guessing it wasn’t good. All she said afterward was “Your parents are going to need some time” and “You’ll always have a home here.”
So, yeah, not a great sign.
Thing is, I should’ve known my father would react this way. That one time I wore a dress for Halloween, he nearly lost his mind. And that was a joke.
But my mother? My mother has never had a problem with gay people. Her hairdresser is gay. So is her florist and her cardio instructor. And, yeah, I know that’s fucking cliché, but it proves she’s not homophobic. At least Ithoughtit did.
But I guess it’s one thing to have a gay hairstylist and another to have a gay son.
If that’s even what I am.
I should probably figure that out at some point since it’s costing me my relationship with my parents. But honestly? I don’t carewhat I am. I care about Riley. So whatever that makes me, that’s what I am.
If my parents can’t get on board with that, that’s their problem. I’m not gonna give up the one thing—the one person—that makes me happy just because they don’t approve. They can give me the silent treatment all they want. I don’t need their noise. I don’t need anything. Except Riley.
“Wow, someone’s in serious study mode,” a voice calls from behind me, jolting me out of my thoughts.
I look up from the pile of books strewn across my table in the Winter Park library and turn to see Tala hovering over my shoulder.
“Oh. Uh. Hi,” I say, surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting a head start on my senior thesis. What are you doing here?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. The truth is I’m here because I need the distraction. Sitting home all day waiting for Riley to get off work, I was starting to go a little stir-crazy. I kept replaying that conversation with my parents on a loop in my head, and I knew it was gonna drive me nuts if I didn’t do something to take my mind off it.
That’s when I thought about Riley and his whole theory about past lives and reincarnation. He hasn’t mentioned it since my birthday, but I can tell he’s still freaked out about the dreams. Some nights when we’re hanging out or watching a movie, he’ll just goquietand get this intense, faraway look in his eyes like he’s trying to solve some impossible puzzle.
I know he’s gonna keep obsessing about these dreams until he gets answers, so I figured I might as well try to get them for him. It’s the least I can do. Riley’s been so incredible these past couple of days,calling me every morning before he goes to work and coming straight over when he’s done. He’s really been there for me. And I want to do something to show him how much I appreciate his support.
That’s why I texted him this morning and asked him to recommend a library with a good history section. The way I see it, Riley’s freaking out because he thinks our dreams might be memories, so if I can prove that the crazy shit in our dreams didn’t actually go down the way we dreamed it—like if we got some major historical detail wrong—that’ll be proof that our dreams aren’t memories but random nonsense. Then Riley can stop worrying.
That’s the plan, at least. Only I can’t say all that to Tala.
“I have to write a report,” I tell her after way too long a pause. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but I got an incomplete in my history class last semester.”
“Oh no!”
“Yeah. I never turned in my final assignment,” I lie. “But my teacher said that if I wrote something over the summer, he’d consider changing my grade.”
“That was really nice of him.”
“Yeah. He’s a cool teacher.”
Tala grabs one of the books off my table and reads the title on the spine. “?‘The Life and Times of Erik the Red.’ You’re writing a paper about Vikings?”
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes like it’s the lamest subject in the world. “My teacher assigned the topic.”
“Learn anything interesting?”
“Not yet. I only just started reading,” I answer truthfully. “I keep getting distracted.”
“Oh, sorry!” Tala says, quickly setting the book down. “I’ll let you get back to your research.”
“No, I didn’t mean you,” I assure her. “I’m just having trouble focusing this afternoon. It’s kind of been a rough week.”
Tala tilts her head in concern. “Is everything all right?”
I start to say no. I don’t want to burden her with my drama. But then I remember what Riley said about her family and how they reacted when she told them she liked girls.
