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Tilly
1993
“Matilda Jane!” My mother’s voice was strained and irritated as she called from the other side of the door. “Come on, you’re going to be late.”
I rolled over in bed, staring at the clock. My eyes were red and sore. I’d hardly slept at all that night…or the night before that, or the night before that. Wyatt was gone, and I couldn’t sleep.
“I’m not going.”
“What? What are you talking about? You’ve been planning this for months!”
My chest tightened, and I felt a thickness in my throat. “I changed my mind.”
“Let me in this instant!” She banged her fist against the door several times, and I knew she had no intention of walking away without seeing my face.
“Fine,” I grumbled, pulling myself from my bed and making my way through the cluttered floor covered in dirty laundry, photographs, and notes that Wyatt had written during class. My floor was an altar and a tomb—memories I was attempting to bury, yet I couldn’t quite let go.
“What’s going on?” my mother asked when I opened the door. She looked past me to the hideous mess I’d created. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. “Sweetheart.”
“I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
“I just…I don’t want to.” I threw myself back on the bed, avoiding her judgmental stare. “I would think you’d be happy about it. That school costs a fortune.”
“A fortune your father and I were willing to pay.” She paused. “Because it’s your dream.”
“Was. It was my dream.”
“Tilly—”
“I’m serious, Mom. I’m not going to the audition.”
“You should at least call them. Try to reschedule for when you’re feeling better. You just need a little time, that’s all.”
A tear slid down my face as I stared at the wall. “Fine. I’ll call if it’ll get you off my back.”
My mom ignored my foul attitude. “Promise me, Tilly.”
“Ugh, Mom. Can you just stop? Please?”
“You know,” Mom said gently as she eased herself onto the foot of the bed, “there are other fish in the sea.”
Scowling, I rose to a seated position, glaring at my mother. “Other fish in the sea?”
“Sorry, I just—I can tell that something happened with Wyatt. I don’t want you ruining your future because you’re upset.”
“I’m not just upset, Mother. That boy ripped my heart in half.”
She shook her head, looking slightly amused. Like I was a foolish child with her first crush. It stirred the anger that was already festering inside me.
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, flopping back down on the bed, wiping the tears away from my cheek with the back of my hand. What did my mom know about fate or love or anything for that matter? She and my dad barely spoke. They lived completely separate lives, except while at the dinner table. It was there that they pretended to love one another and be involved in each other’s lives.
But I wasn’t dumb. I knew better.
“Are you still going to soccer this afternoon?”
