Page 57 of The Older Brother
“It’s only a rental,” she sighs.
I shake my head and tilt my head, glaring at her as she tries to look away.
“Yeah? Where’s that rental from? Mercedes? Lexus?” I know it’s something luxury. David wouldn’t want to be connected to anything distasteful.
“It’s a BMW. Like Caleb’s,” she finally admits.
I laugh hard and shake my head.
“Absolutely not. I don’t want a BMW, Mom. I don’t need it. My car is going to be ready in a few days, and I can get by?—”
“You expect me to just drive you around?” Her wide eyes are glued open, locked on mine, and I’m left nearly speechless.
“It was one shift. I’ll walk tomorrow, or hell, just let me out here, and I’ll find some cardboard and sleep behind the dumpster so I’m ready for tomorrow’s shift. Jesus!” I move to turn my head away, but before I can, my mom’s palm lands across my cheek. I cover the hot spot with my own hand and blink my vision back in focus.
“I’m so sorry. Saylor, I?—”
I exit the car and slam the door behind me as I march down the sidewalk with no destination in mind. All I know is I can’t be here, and I won’t get in that car. My mom idles alongside me, though, with the window down.
“Saylor, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so stressed. And your car not working has me on edge about sending you up north in a fewmonths. I want to get you a new one, but it’s not in the budget right now.”
I laugh out without shifting my gaze to her sixty-thousand-dollar vehicle, keeping pace with me. The matte finish of the dark green, the charcoal rims and lift kit for all that off-roading my mom will never do. I know how much those payments are. All so she can fit in with that boy’s club. I hope it’s worth it.
I halt my steps, and my mom punches her brakes to stop with me, flinging herself forward along with her purse and phone. I can see her eyes ticking as she glances to her feet where I’m sure her purse has spilled out lipsticks, pens and business cards by the pedals. I walk toward the open window, and my mom reaches toward the handle on the inside, but I press my body against the door before she can push it open.
“I’m not getting in that car with you. Not until you tell me the real reason you’re so angry with me.”
Her expression begins to morph into a fake apology, but before she can enact her next performance, she exhales, “Fine.” Her gaze drops to her lap as she blinks before popping her attention back to me.
“You’re ruining your life. With Rowan. He’s bad for you, and it doesn’t look good for you that you’re doing . . . whatever you’re doing with him.” Her mouth rests in a stern, straight line.
I start to laugh almost immediately. If she only knew the things I was doing with Rowan. She’d try to have me committed, I’m sure. But Rowan isn’t the one she should be worrying about.
“Did Caleb tell you something about Rowan? Did he say he was worried about me?” I scrunch my nose with distaste. I have a feeling Caleb’s in my mom’s head with this, not fully, but at least he’s a sous chef to her assumptions.
“He has not, other than expressing his regret for how you two broke up,” she explains.
I laugh again.
“How he broke up with me, you mean. So he could fuck other girls.”
“Saylor!” My mom doesn’t like swear words. I wonder what she was like when she was my age sometimes, if she was proper even then.
I glance to my right, to the roadway ahead, and the few stragglers from my class still walking home. It’s notsofar. I could take the bus to the main intersection and walk the rest of the way.
“I think we need to get your car tonight, too. From Rowan’s garage. I wasn’t going to bring that up until after?—”
“Until after you overspent on a BMW rental, then took my car to some place that’s going to end up charging us double?” My brow is raised so high, I think it might meet my hairline.
“Saylor, you’re blinded by that kid’s good looks. He and his friends aren’t really experts, and we need to make sure your car is safe for when?—”
“When I go up north and start the social work school?” Now’s as good a time as any. We’re in it, so why not push through to the other side of this massive disagreement.
My mom’s teeth are pushing together. I can tell by the way her jaw flexes. She finally mutters something, the word “ungrateful” one of the few I can understand as she sweeps her hand around her feet to gather the contents of her purse. She tosses it in the back seat when she’s done, then turns her attention back to me.
“Saylor, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You're making terrible decisions, and I’m afraid the longer you hang out with those guys, stealing cars and burning down houses . . .”
“Ha. You think that’s what I’m out doing with Rowan, Miguel, and Jersey? Casing joints, hotwiring cars and lighting matches? Do you know how crazy you sound right now? Besides, Rowan didn’t steal that car. The guy who brought it to them leftthem holding the bag. It was hot before they started to work on it, and then he skipped town.”
