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I grab her upper arm and tug her out of earshot. “Is that it? You ran through your money and now you’re here for a loan?”
Crystal places her hand on mine and pulls it off as if it’s a spider crawling up her coat sleeve. “I do care about you.”
“You care that I’ll talk,” I reply coldly. “Who’s the new one? Is it a blueblood that will dump your ass if he finds out you have an adult son? It would be a shame if he knew you lied about more than your age.”
Her eyes narrow. “I recognized the tattoo in the picture. An illustration of your father’s prized six-shooter on your hip. I’ve seen your ink enough times at the pool to know it was you.” She glances over at Charlotte, who is speaking to Raine. I thought they weren’t getting along.
“You don’t believe me,” she says. “But I did come here to check on you. You are sensitive like your dear late father.”
“Don’t you dare talk shit to me,” I hiss. I step into her, and she has to step off the path to get away. The points of her heels sink into a pile of dirty snow.
“We both know what happened. You cheated first, and then you filed for divorce, not the other way around. He never got over your betrayal and the way you lied about him.”
“You’re causing a scene again,” she whispers.
I look behind me, and the girls quickly look away.
Crystal looks me in the eye. “You’re too young to understand the facts of my relationship with your father.”
“Also your husband,” I replied viciously. “Go ahead. I’m old enough now. Tell me the truth.”
“Jaxon, you may hate me, but I still love you. I’m your mother, and I’m sorry for your pain. Every day I regret that you saw what you did that horrible day.” She pauses for emphasis. “I can’t fix the anger between us if you shut me out.”
I want to strangle her and stop the lies coming out of her throat. “That’s your truth? I’ve heard that crap before. Just go away.”
Crystal sighs. “Your behavior is reckless. I know you. I don’t know what kind of relationship you’re having with that girl, but it’s already causing you pain. You don’t need another woman breaking your heart.”
I want to laugh, but she’s serious. “You haven’t broken my heart. I’d have to have loved you for that to have happened.”
Good manners and delusion are her power plays. Just like Hannibal riding elephants through the Alps, taking the high road is her tactic to conquer. No matter what happens, she will count on me remembering that she is my mother. Crystal reaches out with her hand and waits for me to take it. Obediently, I help her step out of the snow as I scoff at her for being vain enough to wear heels on a muddy campus.
She pauses on the verge of kissing me, but loses her nerve when our eyes meet.
“I hope you make the time over summer break to meet your future stepfather and your new siblings.”
No shame that she divorced the man she cheated with. “Step-siblings,” I correct her.
“Don’t cut us off completely, Jaxon. You’ll need us one day, so keep that door open.”
The fury inside me spills over as I watch her walk away. Crystal had affairs with several different men. Dad might have known but chose to ignore it until she left him for the last one. She never once said sorry for causing my father’s suicide. She’s rewritten their story completely, making herself the victim. He’s the one who’s dead while she’s still strutting around in style.
I shake my head at her cluelessness as a passing student gawks at her full-length fur coat. I wonder if she still cheats, and the thought twists my lips into a demented smile.
“Hey, Jaxon.” Charlotte comes running up behind me. “Where are you going?”
I stop walking and stare at her. I was so angry, I just took off. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know where I’m going.”
“You look pissed.” Charlotte eyes the path Crystal has taken. “Are you okay?” The concern in her eyes eases the anger off me gradually. Charlotte is living proof that someone cares, no matter how much I hate other people for existing in greed and vanity. I can fall face first into a pile of it, and Charlotte will help me up. We keep walking along the path. Nowhere in particular—our destination is not thought out.
“I’m sorry about the play,” she says.
“Who told you?” I ask.
“Raine.” She looks at the ground.
“I don’t get the BS, the guy who got the part. He can sing, but it’s like watching a robot on stage trying to pick up a girl.”
Charlotte looks straight ahead and says nothing.
