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My mom sighs. “Honey, in this life, we can’t have it all. After seeing what happened to your father and your brother, you should know life isn’t always fair.”
“I know.” Hearing her talk about my dad and brother, and the sadness in her tone, I know what I need to do. “I’m going to break up with Leo. I have to focus on school and being a great lawyer. I have people counting on me. I can’t lose it all because of selfish decisions.”
“Whatever you do I know it’s going to be the right thing. You’re a smart girl.” She kisses my forehead. “Let’s get some sleep.”
We go into the house. I don’t bother to unpack my bags. I’m too exhausted and sad to think straight. I just need some sleep.
Instead of sleep, I spend the night crying. I’m tempted to turn my phone back on, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want to see what Leo has to say. I know if I read his texts I’ll end up caving and replying back to him. I need to stay focused. I want to stay at the university. I want to graduate. I want to be a lawyer. I can’t have those things and Leo too.
The next day I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and go shopping with my mom. We spend the day together. It’s like old times. Making shopping lists for dinner, visiting the grocery store. But then we do something that’s not very typical, at least not typical for most families, but unfortunately for ours it is. We go see my dad and brother in jail.
Sitting in the sad looking visitors’ room never gets easier. Watching them walk out to us in their bright orange jumpsuits never feels normal. They seem in good spirits, despite the circumstances, but they are eager to get out. When they ask about school, Mom and I don’t mention my dilemma. The rule since they’ve been in jail is not to burden them with any of our problems from the outside world. They have enough on their minds. Wrapping up the visit, giving them the insanely short hugs we’re allowed, two seconds maximum, it’s enough to give me the push I need. I can’t make any more mistakes. My relationship with Leo has to be over no matter how much it breaks my heart.It’s getting late, the sun is starting to set. When my phone buzzes, letting me know there’s a new text, I assume it’s Leo. Glancing at my phone, my stomach does a little cartwheel, but not in a good way. More like the kind of cartwheel one would do when they’re sloppy drunk and falling down a flight of stairs. It’s from Brenna.
Can we please talk?
I wait. My hands go to my keypad several times but are too shaky to reply, which is probably a good thing, because my initial reaction is to tell her to go fuck herself. After gaining some semblance of control over my emotions, I text her back.
Please lose this number.
It’s going to be awkward going back to school. I sent residential services an email requesting a dorm transfer, but since it’s the middle of the year, there are no available rooms at the moment. Sharing a room with Brenna after this will be a nightmare.
Another text comes in from Brenna.
I’m sorry.
God, why won’t she leave me alone? I text back.
Yeah, you really are.
That was childish and uncalled for, but I needed to get it out of my system. Hopefully she’ll get the message. She doesn’t.
I deserve that. But please just talk to me. Meet me at the pub at Elk Horn in an hour.
I sigh. I want nothing to do with Brenna, but if we’re going to be stuck as roommates, I better figure out a way to make this work. We text back and forth for a while, trying to find a place to meet halfway between campus and my mom’s house.
An hour later I meet her at a popular little brew pub and eatery between my mom’s house and the school. She must really want to talk to me if she was willing to make the drive all the way out here.
I step inside the pub. It’s dark. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust. There’s an old country song playing on the jukebox and the bing, ding, bong sounds of people playing on the row of arcade games along the wall. It’s the poor-man’s Dave and Buster’s.
The place smells like pizza and stale cigarettes even though no one has been able to smoke inside the bar since the 90s. Brenna is sitting at the bar with a pile of buffalo chicken wings and ranch dip in front of her.
She glances back at me as if she could feel my presence. Her eyes light up in the dark and she sits up. “I didn’t think you were coming.” She has to raise her voice to be heard over the background noise.
