Page 20 of Let Me
I wear my own jeans and a t-shirt, nothing from his stocked closet, trying to convey the point that I’m fed up with his shit. That he might have me on a string, but I want nothing to do with him. I’m ready for this shit to end.
I call Mom, just to check on her.
She sounds groggy when she answers, and it freaks me out.
“Are you okay?” I ask her quietly, looking down at the Toronto sign as the sunlight fades with the day. People are beginning to swarm the city. It’s Saturday night, after all.
“Yes, hon,” she says with a sigh. “Just missing you. Paperboy came. I gave him some change from the piggybank in your room.”
I laugh in the phone at her words, one arm on the glass window. It’s cold against my hand, this high up.
“We don’t even read the paper. You should’ve told him.” I say the words breezily enough, trying to play it off, but there’s a lot of pain behind them, too. Because honestly, I can’t really afford her to be giving coins from my piggybank.
But she doesn’t handle the bills. God, I don’t know if she ever has.
She sighs. “I know, I know. How’s Toronto? Did you see Adam?” She doesn’t ask anything about Jack, about how I might feel being here without him, and she won’t. She knows how it hurts. She thinks Adam pays for my flights here. He probably would have, if I had asked. He’s wanted to see me, too, back in North Carolina. But I’ve always blown him off. He knows I’m poor, but I don’t necessarily want him to see it.
Mom knows nothing about Caden. About Rolland.
I plan to keep it that way. Rolland has jerked me around long enough, I don’t need my own mother to know I’m his pet. Not that she hasn’t been a pet before. That’s how she’s spent most of her life.
I press my forehead, hard, against the glass. I want out of this. Goddammit, I want out of it. When I think about Mom, when I imagine being likeher…it makes me feel sick. One way or another, I will get Rolland Virani the fuck out of my life.
“I did,” I say in response to her question about Adam. I don’t want to tell her about the breakup. I have this irrational fear that anything that goes off-kilter in my life will throw her out of recovery. “Tonight, I’m going out with him again.”
Lies. Lies.Lies.
Some days I barely know the truth anymore.
“When are you seeing Tyler again?” she asks. She loves Tyler. The feeling is mutual. Hell,Ilove Tyler, and if he wasn’t gay, I’d probably marry him just because I can spend hours and hours with him without getting bored.
“I don’t know, Mom,” I say honestly. “He’s in Vancouver, remember? We missed each other this time. But maybe he’ll come to visit soon.” Which is true enough. He’s the only one I’ve felt comfortable sharing the shit that is my life with. His wasn’t much better as a child.
She sighs. “I miss Tyler,” she says. “I miss Toronto. But you know what? The heat here is fabulous.”
I laugh, feeling something loosen in my chest with her words. They sound sonormal.Not drug-addled or confused or incoherent. Just normal words from the woman that raised me. Or tried to, anyhow.
“I gotta go,” I say as my phone beeps and I see Rolland is calling. With any luck, maybe he’ll cancel our plans.
I end the call with Mom and switch over.
“Hi darling,” Rolland purrs in the phone. My skin crawls and I turn away from the window and start to pace. Staying still while I listen to his sickness is not an option. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to cancel tonight. You don’t fly out until Monday, correct?”
He asks as if he doesn’t know. As if he didn’t schedule my flights. He wanted me here, for his stupid fucking party that I bolted out of. To show me off or some shit. I know I’ll have hell to pay for leaving it early. He won’t physically hurt me, I don’t think. Not again. But he can torment me with the fucking video he holds over my head. He’s forced me to watch it more times than I feel like counting.
“Yep,” I say, trying to act like I don’t care. Caden and his dad aren’t alike in many ways. But they both like to see women squirm. I refuse to give Rolland that.
“Good, good. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He doesn’t ask, he just says it because he knows I’ll jump when he needs me to. That pisses me off, but I say nothing and end the call.
I know he’ll hate that, but he’s distracted now anyhow. Maria probably wants a date. Or to flay him alive, one. I wouldn’t blame her if she went in that direction.
She was always cold to me, but always doting on her sons. When Jack died, well, I think she feels the same way toward me as Caden does. If she only knew. She refused to watch the video, but she knew enough about what was on it.
I try to force that night from my mind. And the other one. The oneofthe stupid fucking video.
Down below, the city isreallyalive, music blaring from God knows where, and I…I’m free. No school. No Mom. No Adam. No Rolland.
My idea of a night out includes cuddling up in my bed and reading a book. I hate crowds, clubs, too many people, too much noise unless it’s music in my headphones. All of the other shit overwhelms me. It always has.
