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"That wasn't my intent, Ryan."
"Yeah, well, now I'm getting clean, I guess…"
"You don't sound so happy about it." She comes and sits beside me on the couch.
"Because it's not my choice. I have a…someone who is forcing me to get clean." I almost called Beau a friend, but I'm not yet at that stage.
"Oh, I see," my mom says with a bit of a crestfallen expression. "Is there a reason why you don't want to quit?"
I stare at her as if she's grown a second head. "Are you serious right now? I have had nobody on my side since the night Dad died. I was grieving, too, but you were only concerned about your grief. Did you know I've been getting bullied at school every damn day since I started high school?"
"What? No… Why didn't you say anything?"
"Oh please, any parent that paid attention to their child would know when something was wrong. You only cared about making sure you always had your wine…" I push up off the couch. Turning to her, I can see a little hurt in her eyes, but I can't bring myself to care just yet. "Maybe if you try a little harder, we can actually stand being in the same room with one another." I walk off, leaving her on the couch, too stunned to move and follow me.
Damn, Ryan. That was a bit harsh! I think to myself as I open the front door and stick my air pods in my ears. I need to run more than ever now, just to let this steam off before I go back, because I already know that I will have to apologize to her for that.
My mother is sleeping on the couch by the time I return from my run. I stand over her, gazing at the woman who gave birth to me. She's still beautiful at forty-one. My mother is who I take after in looks, primarily with her cinnamon hair and caramel-colored eyes. I've got her nose, too, but my mouth is my father's, along with the shape of my eyes.
I can remember a time when I was little, and my parents took me to a petting zoo here in town. It's a vivid memory, the only one I really remember when we were all happy together. This was before my mother became a nurse; she was still in nursing school then.
"Do you want to ride the pony, sweetheart?" my mom asks as she smiles down at me.
My hand is clutched in hers tightly as I shake my head vigorously. "It's too big, Mommy!"
I stare at the brown and white animal like it will tear me apart. When I try to hide behind my mother's legs, she chuckles and squats to my level. Brushing my hair from my eyes, her smile is warm as she caresses my cheek.
"Don't you know I would never let anything bad happen to you, baby? Mommy and Daddy will always be here to keep you safe."
I'm brought back to the present when I hear a whimper slip from my mother. She's still asleep, her brows are creased, and my father's name suddenly slips from her lips. A slight gasp escapes me, and I back away quietly to not wake her.
I hurry to my room and shut the door before I allow the first tear to fall. My thoughts go back to what Bain said earlier about me not noticing my mother's struggles. Could he be right? Have I been so selfish and stuck in my grief that I completely dismissed my mother's struggles?
The thought is overpowering now that I'm clear-headed without drugs in my system. So much so that I'm beginning to hyperventilate. I've accused my mother of not caring and choosing her wine over her daughter, but what did I do? I chose drugs over trying to fix our relationship.
I hop into the shower and let the water cascade over my face, washing the tears that now fall freely away. Giving myself a quick scrub down, I get out, towel off, and return to my room to find clothes. I'm like a zombie, moving around my room, not really knowing what I'm grabbing for clothes, but I'm putting them on anyway.
Grabbing my keys, I head downstairs to find my mother still sleeping, so I scribble out a note, telling her I'll be back soon. Taking one last look at her, I walk out of the house. I'm unsure where I'm going; I just need to get away and think about shit. I don’t know whether to thank Beau for helping me clear my head or hate him for making me come to terms with the fact that I've been the biggest bitch on the face of the earth.
I stop at the park where I had passed out the other night and get out of my car. School isn't out yet, so no annoying kids are running around, acting like little assholes. There are a few adults here with toddlers, but they don't bother me as I take a seat on a bench far away from them.
Pulling out my phone, I scroll through my messages, hoping that Brock has finally come to his senses and apologized, but there is nothing. I miss him. Yeah, I know it's fucked up after what he did, but he's been my only friend for the last three years, and I'm really feeling the loss right now. Maybe it's better this way. I mean, if I'm going to get clean, I should probably stay away from him, right?
A shadow hovers above me, so I glance up. The sun is behind their head, making it hard to see who it is. I hold my hand over my eyes to try to see, but it's useless. It isn't until they talk that I realize who the shadow is.
"I thought I may find you here," Beau states and moves to sit beside me.
"How would you know that I come here sometimes?"
I don't think he meant to reveal that he knew because he's looking kind of sheepish now as he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I told you I was stalking you, but I've only actually seen you here once."
I roll my eyes and smirk. "Oh yeah? You have been stalking me that long?"
It's been about two months since I came here to think. Aside from the other night when I… Oh my God! Beau's the one that took me home that night. How did I not put two and two together? He said that he saw what Brock did to me, so he must have followed me here afterward.
He's already looking at me when I raise my knowing expression to him. "Yeah, that was me."
"You took me home when I…"
