Page 112 of Damnation
She raises her chin proudly and shrugs her shoulders. The same shoulders that Victor rests his hands upon. “I would be much happier if I thought I opened your eyes once and for all. That boy is no good for you. Even he knows it.”
I exhale with an expression of disgust. This is pointless. It’s all pointless with her. “You’re always going to see him as the villain of the situation, aren’t you, Mom?”
“Not a villain. Just wrong. Wrong for you. It’s so obvious that I wonder how you don’t realize it yourself!”
“Why don’t we all try to calm down now?” Victor says, trying to de-escalate things, but I ignore him.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s wrong for me. Or maybe I’m the one who’s wrong for him,” I say, turning to my mother. “But just know that when you put me out on the street, he welcomed me into his home, ensuring I had a roof over my head when you had taken mine away from me! Just know that the only reason I am here tonight is because he convinced me to accept the stupid invitation. Because he wanted me to have a civil relationship with my mother again. Him, not me. He’s not perfect, I acknowledge that. But neither am I. Neither are you. And you have no idea what he’s going through right now. So don’t you dare talk about him like that ever again,” I warn her angrily as she stares at me in discomfort. “My evening ends here.”
I walk away with brisk strides, ignoring my mother’s insistent calls. And just when I think she’s about to come after me, I realize that Victor is holding her back. “Let her go; this isn’t where she wants to be right now,” I hear him say. I thank him mentally for stopping her.
I pull my phone out of my clutch and frantically call an Uber. While I wait, I try to call Thomas. But it goes to voicemail on the second ring. I call him again, but this time it goes straight to voicemail. That’s not good. That’s not good at all. I’m shaking, both from the cold and the anxiety. I left my coat at the restaurant, but there’s no way I’m going back for it. I just want to find Thomas and explain the situation, try to salvage what I can. Because there is still something to be saved, I tell myself. There has to be. Because he took a step tonight, coming back tome. And I’m not going to let this second chance slip through my fingers because of my mother.
I call Vince, who, fortunately, answers immediately. There’s a giant racket in the background. Music, yelling. He’s at a party. He confirms it, telling me that he’s at Matt’s. And that’s exactly where I have the Uber driver take me.
Twenty-Six
When I get out of the Uber, I’m surprised by the number of people both inside and outside the frat house. Many more than usual. I guess today’s game went well, even without Thomas. I walk down the sidewalk, ignoring the chaos around me, from the empty cups scattered on the grass to the small group of shirtless boys who, despite it being the end of November, are running around throwing cups full of beer on each other.
Shana’s here too, of course. She leans on the doorjamb, grinning at me as she nibbles on the rim of the plastic cup she’s holding. I try to look indifferent, pretending she doesn’t even exist. But, as I pass her, she exclaims, “Uh-oh! Trouble in paradise?” I don’t pay attention to her. I shoulder past her hard, now that I have the chance to return the favor.
I walk into the house and look around for Thomas, but all the people crammed together make it hard to see. I spot the figure of Vince in the distance. He’s in the kitchen with some girls who are sitting on the table while he pours drinks directly into their mouths. I take a step toward them, but my path is blocked by a tall muscular guy. He’s wearing light-wash jeans with rips in the knees and a completely unbuttoned plaid shirt. His eyes are red, and like everyone else here, he seems to have had at least one too many. He smiles at me. But the way he does it, I don’t like at all.
“Sorry, I need to get through,” I say, glancing nervously at thesurrounding crowd, hoping to spot Thomas there.
“There’s nothing interesting over there.” He smirks, head cocked to one side, and takes a few steps closer to me. “You here alone?”
“No.”
Ignoring my answer, he gets even closer to me, and I feel a lump beginning to form in my throat. “My boyfriend is somewhere in here,” I iterate. “So if you’ll excuse me…” I raise both eyebrows, gesturing for him to make room and get out of my way. But he doesn’t.
“Why don’t you tell me your name? You’re gorgeous,” he continues lewdly, trying to grab me by the hips. I push out my hands to stop him from getting any closer and step aside, bumping into someone else’s back. Suddenly, another boy emerges and joins the first, playfully wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him away from me.
“Dude, what are you doing?” the second guy shouts in the first’s ear, trying to be heard over the music.
“I’m having a good time; isn’t that what we’re here for?” the asshole replies, staring hungrily at my legs.
His friend raises a red cup to his lips, looks carefully at me, and shakes his head. “Not with her, trust me. Let’s get some air.”
I narrow my eyes to slits. I’m not sure what that was about, but I feel a sickly sensation growing inside me at the thought of that guy going on to harass someone less fortunate than I am.
The perv protests a little bit but eventually allows himself to be pulled away. Only then do I start breathing again. I shut my eyes and try to remind myself why I’m here again. When I open them, I walk into the kitchen and touch Vince’s shoulder to get his attention. Luckily he, at least, isn’t drunk. I ask him where Thomas is, and he tells me that as soon as they got here, Thomas went upstairs. I thank him hurriedly and rush up to Thomas’s room.
I push open the door and find him at the foot of his bed, his back pressed into the mattress and both feet planted on the floor. His eyes are glued to the ceiling, and he has what appears to be a joint between his fingers. “If I wanted to see you, I’d have answered your call, don’t you think?”
I close the door and approach him. “You left before I had a chanceto explain.”
“I don’t wanna hear your explanations,” he replies, sitting up and taking a hit off the joint. “Look where they got you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t regret the choice I made or where it’s gotten me. I’d do it again, a thousand times, because it was what I wanted. You can’t blame me for that.”
“I absolutely can. Is it possible that you actually don’t see it? What, do you enjoy ruining your life, or are you just too stupid to understand when you’ve got a problem right in front of your face? I mean, what more do you need before you finally get that I’m not good for you?”
My brow furrows. “Are you the same guy who showed up drunk to dinner with my mother just now? The one who begged me to tell him that I was still his girlfriend?”
He glances quickly at me. His eyes are cold and foggy. “That was bullshit, actually. Never listen to a drunk.” He pauses. He stubs out the joint at the bottom of an ashtray next to him on the mattress and then continues: “I should have let you go, just like you asked. In fact, that’s what I should’ve done at the beginning, but instead I got myself trapped in thisthing, and now everything is fucked.”
“Why, Thomas? Why are you saying this?”
