Page 34 of She Used to Be Nice
“He didn’t, Mom,” Avery said. “Everything’s fine.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right, but you’re still paying for this. If you think we have an extra five hundred dollars just waiting around, you are very mistaken.”
Avery grabbed hold of her phone, held it flush against her ear. Five hundred dollars was more than what she had in her checking account. “Mom, I can’t afford that. I’ve been trying to set aside money for all the maid of honor stuff I need to do for Morgan.”
“I don’t care. You need to take responsibility for your actions.” Mom sighed. “You’re worrying me. I think I need you under my roof a little bit. Daddy had to go to the city for work this morning. Maybe he can pick you up and bring you home for the rest of the weekend.”
Avery whined. “ButMom, I—”
“Nope, it’s settled. You’re coming home.”
Avery used to love being at her parents’ house, but now she hated it. She hadn’t been able to get out of there fast enough aftergraduation. She felt so resentful of their lives, of the fact that all they seemed to do was mosey around Costco and buy new mums for the yard and watch HGTV and still, somehow, be happy. Call it jealousy if you want. Plus they treated her like she was a rebellious sixteen-year-old if she dared to leave the house, prying for unnecessary details about her whereabouts. Where did they think she was going to go? It was the suburbs. The worst she could do was get high with some teens at the mall. And she hadn’t even done that when she was younger and the opportunity was presented to her.
Though she had to admit that she could use a break from her life in the city. Being in Morgan and Charlie’s wedding was eroding her already weakened self-esteem, and she didn’t mind the opportunity to smell some trees and enter the portal of her childhood, a time before everything in her life went to shit. A time when she thought she could have all the trappings of simple and normal joys.
“Fine,” Avery muttered. “Whatever.”
Mom sighed, the kind of sigh that precedes a change in tone. “I knew you shouldn’t have moved to the city so early.” Her voice was soft and distant, like she was talking more to herself than to Avery. “You should’ve lived at home for longer. You weren’t yourself after your breakup. And those grades …”
“Mom, they were Cs. It’s not like I failed.” Avery had felt awful about those Cs. Though she wished getting a C was the worst thing that happened senior year.
“That’s failing to me. You had straight As nearly all of college. And then, well …”
Avery could feel the sadness in her mother’s voice. But Mom didn’t say more. She knew better.
“Anyway,” Mom continued. “Daddy will text you on his way over.”
The line went dead.
Avery pulled herself out of bed and threw a random assortment of clothes into a backpack before her dad arrived to pick her up. Sheclimbed into his car and gave him a terse, guilty hello, and then he drove away from her apartment in silence. She wondered if he was being quiet because Mom had told him not to say anything. Dad wasn’t usually the type to spark emotional heart-to-hearts anyway, but Avery would’ve figured he’d havesomeopinion over the hospital bill. Though perhaps Mom thought Avery was too pitiful to get yelled at twice in one day, over the same thing. Avery almost would rather have gotten yelled at again. It was better than being treated like she was too weak to handle a simple conversation.
They headed up the ramp out of Manhattan, where the skyline passed by one final time. Avery tried to admire the twinkling buildings across the river, the warm yellow sparkles from the windows of high-rises brimming with life, but right now, though she knew it was irrational, she was angry with this city, with its seemingly limitless opportunities for her to get herself in trouble. Would she behave this irresponsibly if she lived somewhere less stimulating? That was a stupid thought. Yes she would. Because no matter where she went, there she was—the same girl who’d put herself in the same situation in college and tried to act like she didn’t. And her coping mechanisms were all short-lived balms that seemed to only make her feel worse.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Morgan.I’m glad you’re alive. What happened?
Avery put her phone in her lap, thankful that Morgan wasn’t icing her out like everyone else.
Her phone buzzed again.Did Blair say something to you??
Avery knew telling Morgan about her conversation with Blair would only exacerbate Morgan’s existing stress about having them both in the wedding party. At the time, in her drunk one-track mind, running from Blair’s comment had been the only thing Avery could think to do to get away from it all—literally. But Avery didn’t want to give Morgan more reasons to worry. She would just need to forget about what happened with Blair and move forward, to suck it up until the wedding. Then she could go back to her regular life.
no, she was fine,Avery said. my mom’s making me come home this weekend tho. hang when i get back?
Avery spent the next thirty minutes peeking at her phone for Morgan’s response, refreshing their text message window over and over. Until, finally:Sure.
That period was like a stab in the gut.
The public housing and warehouse buildings of upper Manhattan slowly morphed into the corn fields and rolling plains of grass of suburban New Jersey. Avery’s heart swelled at the sight of her hometown. New Jersey was so much more than the stretch of highway that smelled like farts you had to drive through to get to New York City.Avery had a magical childhood here, filled with summers at the beach and late nights at the diner and long drives to nowhere. Maybe she should’ve stayed here after high school instead of going away to Massachusetts for college. She could’ve gone to Rutgers, worked for theAsbury Park Press, and dated a local guy, maybe a teacher. They could’ve spent their days going to restaurants by the ocean, listening to live music at The Stone Pony, and saving up for a modest home with a yard. She could’ve run in a different social circle, been someone different, gone to another party senior year. She could’ve had the life she’d always envisioned for herself as a kid. She should’ve taken a cue from her parents who rarely left the state. There was nothing for her beyond the confines of their town in New Jersey. Everything she needed to have a happy life was right here, along Route 22. Mike and Jackie Russo knew it best.
Avery’s dad pulled into the driveway, and the car wobbled over the bumps in the familiar way it always did as her white-paneled childhood home with navy shutters came closer into view. She headed through the front door and snuck up the stairs to put her bag away in her old bedroom, where everything looked the same as it had when she first moved out, fossilized like artifacts in a history museum. Her comforter had the same yellowswirls, the colors faded from the sun streaming in through the window above her bed. Her bookshelf still overflowed with books, including a short story she wrote in elementary school calledThe Brownie Sale on Our Block, but there was a tiny layer of dust on all the spines. Her walls were covered in academic awards, drama club awards, a first-place spelling bee ribbon. She couldn’t believe this person had once existed, and that that person was somehow her.
Mom suddenly appeared in the doorframe. Without a word, she reached over to give Avery a hug. Avery, also wordlessly, returned the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of Mom’s rosewater perfume and expensive hairspray.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Mom said softly.
She pulled away and tenderly stroked Avery’s cheek, making Avery feel like a kid again. Avery wished her mom could hold her in her arms and make everything go away like when she used to scare the monsters out from under Avery’s bed. The fight with Morgan, that night with Noah, the constant debilitating fear that Avery wouldn’t make it to August—all these new monsters, bigger and scarier than anything Avery had feared before.
Avery’s eyes became wet, burned with tears. “Me too.”
