Page 27 of I Hear You

Mom won’t be home until late. She’s been picking up extra shifts at the hospital. Without Dad’s income, money is tight. Even though school is paid for, I still try to work as many shifts at Grissom’s as I can. That way, I don’t have to ask her for money. If she got her way, I wouldn’t work at all and focus solely on school and football, but she lost that argument when I told her I’d drop football if it meant I couldn’t work and help pay some bills. I don’t need much, so my paycheck mostly sits in my bank account. I’ve started slipping twenty-dollar bills into Mom’s wallet occasionally. Deceitful? Maybe. Anyway, I think she knows I’m doing it.

My relationship dynamic with Mom instantly changed after last summer. When your kid beats the shit out of your husband because he was beating the shit out of you… it’s hard to have a normal mother-son relationship after that. Therapy has helped, so has learning to be completely honest with each other, as much as we can. That’s a work in progress for both of us.

I’ve also had to do a lot of learning, re-learning and unlearning. I realized I let the shit my dad would say to my mom slide for all those years but didn’t react until I saw him physically hurting her. That’s part of why I read the book of poems I showed Mads. I slipped up and told my therapist about one of Mads poems once and she suggested the book.

I’ve been meaning to tell Mom about Madison—I think it’s only right. Mads has been such a huge part of my life for so long and with the new developments of her being right here in Easton, I think it’s time. Her first Mom reaction will be to lecture me about Internet safety and how I shouldn’t have been talking to strangers online at thirteen. She would follow it up with solid advice honestly. Her own love life may have been complete shit, but she somehow gives good relationship advice. She’s a big reason I finally broke things off with Jackie. She’s one of the ones that helped me realize I was using her.

I don’t know if I’m ready to share Mads with anyone just yet. There’s still a strong desire in my gut to keep that part of my life protected a little while longer. I’m not ready to face facts, not ready to reconcile the relationship I had online with Mads with the relationship I’ve done nothing but screw up with Madison in real life. Talking about Mads out loud will lead me to confronting the fact that maybe she stopped responding to my emails for a valid reason. Her being here now, in Easton, complicates everything.

After I shower and get dressed, I try to focus on some homework. I’m only taking two classes over the summer and I’m only taking them so I can have the minimum number of classes in fall to remain eligible for football. I did what was expected of me and chose a path to a Health Science degree. Even though I have very little interest in anything to do with it and the classes are boring as shit. I also can’t think of any career it could lead me to that wouldn’t make me want to stab myself in the face with a pair of scissors.

I can’t concentrate. My stomach lets out a growl, louder than the music I’m listening to. I’ve been so in my own head I haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning. I decide to text Emmett.

Me: hey. Wanna go grab food at the diner?

Emmett: Yeah. Pick me up. I’m at the barn.

Me: Be there in 10

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I head downstairs to grab my keys and put on my shoes.

Emmett’s waiting outside when I pull onto the gravel drive at the barn.

“Dude. You look like shit,” I tell him when he gets in.

He’s at least showered since practice, but his hair is a mess. He’s got bags under his eyes I didn’t notice before, and his skin looks gray. I knew most of the guys were out of shape, but I’ve never seen Emmett look so beat up after a practice before.

“Practice was a bitch today,” He snaps. “You were on that field, you know.”

“Okay, geeze. Sorry.”

I pull back out onto the road and head for the diner. I know she probably doesn’t want to see me and I still can’t decide if I’m heading to the diner hoping she’s working or hoping she’s not. If she is, I don’t even know what I’ll say or if I’ll have the balls to say anything at all. Plus, if she is there and I say something to her, I’ll have to explain everything to Emmett. He’s already in a bad mood, so I don’t want his opinion right now–so I just keep driving.

I park in the bus station's employee parking lot because street parking is full and no one will bat an eye at my truck being there. We walk down the street toward the diner and the knots in my stomach twist tighter the closer we get. When we make it inside the diner, I scan the place for Madison. I see Joy and Bev are both behind the long counter. If they’re both here, I doubt Madison is working. I catch Joy’s eye and give her a little wave. She nods her head toward the back of the restaurant, letting me know it’s okay for us to take our usual booth.

The knots in my stomach slowly start untwisting and I relax into the vinyl booth bench. I guess it’s a good thing she isn’t working. Coming in here after what I did to her in the library and not even having a plan for what to say was kind of a dick move. I think about trying to look her up in the school directory and emailing her, but that seems a bit stalkerish and like a step backward. I think about sending her an email from my Ender email account, but that will only complicate things more. Would she even respond to it? I’ve gotta come up with a plan. I don’t want that kiss to be our last.

Chapter thirteen

Madison

I’mstillreelingfromthe kiss in the library as I walk to work. Who knew a kiss that brief could still be felt days later. I can still taste him and I’ve brushed my teeth multiple times since then. I find myself gently touching my lips with my fingertips as I walk. As amazing as that kiss was, I’m also confused, and a little pissed off. I can’t believe he would just run off. I’ve been going over every likely scenario of why he would apologize and leave the way he did.

Does he have a girlfriend? Did my breath taste or smell bad? These reasons keep rolling around in my mind. None of them seem to fit, or maybe all of them do. I eventually give up, resigning to the fact that I may never know. It doesn’t stop me from still feeling that kiss, remembering it. I did not know a kiss, even one so brief, could feel that way.

I kissed Liam more than I’ve kissed anyone else. He’s the guy I was sort of kinda, sort of not dating senior year. Really, I was just using him for a place to stay every once in a while. He was a few years older than me and had an apartment with a couple of roommates. But he “wasn’t into labels” and wanted to “keep things kush” so it was never that serious. Which was fine by me because he smoked more pot than he could afford at his minimum wage job.

When I was kissing him, my thoughts usually wandered to things on my to-do list or how his mouth tasted like Doritos constantly. I don’t ever even remember seeing him eat Doritos. It made no sense.

When I kissed Henry, my mind went completely blank at first. All my senses took over, my sense of touch, taste, and smell going into overdrive. I can remember every tiny sensation. Every gentle brushing of our skin. Trying to make it through work today is going to be brutal. My mind is filled with memories that make me tingle all over.

I’m working with Bev this morning, which means my shift will be fun and go by fast. Bev likes to make sure the jukebox is always on so she can dance around while we work. I’ve even let her pull me into her dance breaks occasionally. The diner is busy with its usual morning rush of people grabbing food before heading off to school or work. There are the regulars that sit at the counter while they drink their coffee and read the newspaper. A few of them even have laptops open, getting a head start on the day's work.

I pause for a minute and think about how lucky I am. Lucky to have gotten this job. To have ended up in this town where I’m feeling at peace. Like I belong. Taylor has been the perfect roommate and the closer we get, the more I know she’s someone I’ll be friends with for the rest of my life. I tease her regularly about not sticking me in a hideous dress when I’m a bridesmaid at her and Jesse’s wedding one day. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend I could talk to about plans so far in the future.

All of my friends have been the kind that I only see at school or work, never making a genuine connection with any of them. In the last few years of highschool, friends were a necessary evil. A means to an end. Someone I was close enough to I could ask to crash on their couch for a night or two. Yet, not close enough to have to explain why I needed a place to crash. They were friends that didn’t ask questions.

Sometimes I think I’ll share more of my past with Taylor–it’s not as if she hasn’t asked me about my life before coming to Easton. I am just the queen of diverting the conversation and dodging the hard questions. She never presses me when I do it, and that makes me love her even more. It’s a happy balance between her seeming to be genuinely interested in me and my life, but still recognizing when there are things I don’t want to talk about.

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