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I take a deep breath, knowing that gaze doesn’t bode well, but standing my ground. “I’m not dating right now, Mom.”
“And why is that, Stella? Your sister is dating the mayor’s son. I just don’t know why you can’t be more like her. She trusted me to set them up, and look how happy she is.” If byhappyyou mean she does everything in her power to avoid him, then yeah, she’s happy as can be.
“Well, I’m not Evie,” I say. I don’t addunfortunately, even though I know she’s thinking it. She always thinks it. Why aren’t you more like your sister? is a common refrain from her. Still, if I want to escape this conversation without a blowout, I need to do some damage control and explaining. “I’m just… I’m not interested in dating. I have my whole life to date and I’m in my senior year.”
“It’s not like you’re going to be meeting any good boys at college,” she says with an angry edge, and I should have known that would come next. When I told her my decision to forgo further schooling, it became a huge blow-up fight that boiled down to her cursing the Greene family for moving in next door to us, and Riggs was ruining her life, as if my life and hers were so closely intertwined and my not going to college would ruinherlife.
What am I going to tell my friends, Stella?
It was always about appearances, after all, and your daughter's choice not to go to college was apparently social suicide in her circle.
“I’m just not interested in dating right now. I’m focusing on my…” I hesitate a bit because I want to saysongwriting, but that would only make things worse. Instead, I say, “School work and enjoying senior year.” When her jaw goes tight and her eyes go flinty, I know she’s about to hit deep, about to say something with the intention of hurting me and causing pain.
“What are you waiting out for? Riggins Greene? Grow up, Stella Jane. He’s a loser. To his credit, he left town to get away from his drunk of a dad as soon as possible, but do you really think he’s out touring with his little band and thinking about you? You’re here, wasting your senior year away, sad and depressed, missing some boy, and he’s out living his life.Without you.” She looks at me and sees she hit her mark of my insecurities, and smiles.
“If he really wanted to be with you, Stella, he would have before he left. But he wants to go on tour, be single, forget about his silly little neighbor who’s been prancing after him like a lost puppy her whole life.”
“Mom, that’s not?—”
But what am I even going to say?
It’s not true? I haven’t been in love with Riggins since I was a kid?We both know that’s bullshit, even if I stopped confiding in my mother when I was 10, and she started to use my secrets shared in confidence against me.
Somehow, still, she knows I’ve been worried about exactly that since he left, that he already forgot about me, that he’ll move on with his exciting new life and leave me behind.
“Use your head, Stella. Before you waste your best years on him, use your head. Grab a good boy who’s going to have a good job and who will uplift this family’s standing. Stop walking around with your head in the clouds, delusions, and convincing yourself he cares about you.”
I just stare at her, biting on my lip until it bleeds in an attempt not to say something I’d regret or show some kind of emotion she could weaponize against me. A minute passes before she shakes her head in disappointment and walks to lean against the kitchen counter, redirecting her energy and attention to the mail.
My body starts to relax, and I turn my face back to my math homework.
“What is this?” she asks a few moments later as she flips through the mail, her brow furrowing. She must be confused, seeing as she would never risk fine lines and wrinkles for nothing.
“I…” I start, but then my eyes focus long enough on what she’s holding up. My chest fills, my day brightening for the first time since Riggs left.
She flips the paper, and I see his messy scrawl on the back. I can’t stop myself from standing and snatching it from my mom’s hands, excited and not even worried about her giving me a hard time for manners, instead hungrily reading his words.
The front clearly shows it came from Maine, one of the first stops as they tag onto the tour halfway through. The words,Greetings from Portlandscrawled in pretty font above an image of trees and stars.
Little star-
We’re in Portland, Maine, our first show on the tour Blacknote set up for us. I miss you like crazy. It’s so pretty here, you’d love it. When it’s dark, the stars are the brightest things I’ve ever seen. We should come back some day, go star gazing.
All my love,
Riggs
I sigh as I read it, letting my head drift to a world where Riggs isn’t just my best friend who sees me as a sister he writes songs with, but a woman he loves, the one he writes his songsabout.
He doesn’t know all the songs we write together, I write with him in mind.
“What is that, Stella?” my mom asks, annoyed.
“Oh. A postcard from Riggins. Atlas Oaks made a stop in Maine first,” I say, stuffing it into my agenda for school and trying to play it off.
“I still can’t believe his father is letting him throw his life away like that,” my mother says, moving around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and a bottle of too-expensive wine.
“Well, I mean, he has a record deal.” I don’t remind her that Mr. Greene has been falling apart more and more since Riggs’ mom passed and doesn’t care much about what he does.
