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But I knew better than to think wonderful things like that about my mother.
She didn’t care where I’d been.
She cared about nothing but herself and those stupid fucking pills.
I dropped my keys on the cluttered table. “Out.”
“I asked youwhere.”
My lips remained sealed as I opened the fridge and put the foil-covered meatloaf inside. Mom would probably eat it later, but that was okay. She needed it more than I did.
“Excuse me.” She got up abruptly from the couch and stomped into the kitchen, swaying a little as she moved. “I asked you where the hell you’ve been. And don’t you dare say school because you know who I ran into today?”
I grunted a reply as I pulled out the milk and then grabbed a glass from the drying rack—the same one I’d washed that morning; my mother couldn’t be bothered to wash dishes or put them away.
“Mrs. Henderson. Remember her? She told me she heard your teachers talking in the faculty room. They said they haven’t seen you at school inweeks. So, you tell me where you’ve been right now or—”
I slammed the glass down on the counter hard enough to make an audible sound, but not enough to break it. “Or what, Mom? What the hell are yougonnado to me?”
“Or you’ll be in deep shit—that’s what.”
Oh God, I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe she gave a fuck about me and wouldactually dosomething motherly. Ground me. Load my schedule with more chores than I could handle for the next week.Something!But I knew better, and still, I answered honestly … just in case.
“I’ve been working at the grocery store,” I told her, pouring the milk.
“And?”
I looked up from the glass to meet her accusing glare, my eyes narrowed with irritation. “And what?”
“What the hell else have you been up to? Because I know damnwellyou’re not spending all your time at the fucking grocery store, and if you’re not at school, you must be doing something else.”
She was right about that. But I wouldn’t tell her what exactly I was doing. Her wrath wasn’t worth it, and I needed the money.
Weneeded the money.
“I just hang out with the guys.”
“Bullshit,” she spat, snatching the milk carton from myhandand stuffing it back into the fridge. “I bet you’re out there, knocking some of those slutty girls up. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, Mom, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” I muttered, shaking my head.
Little did sheknow,I was still a virgin. When the hellwasI going to find the time to have sex when I was too busy making enough money to make sure I could keep the lights on between her thousands of lost and found jobs?
“Well, I know for a fact that you’re popping pills.”
Now,thatgot my attention.
“What?” I snapped, neglecting the glass of milk on the counter. “What are you talking about?”
She hurried for her purse, hidden among the piles of mail and oddities on the table. She pulled out the orange bottle I was all too familiar with and shook its contents in my face.
“Look familiar?” she accused snidely, and of course it did. I’d only been watching her shake that thing around since I had been old enough to use the potty by myself. “You’ve been taking them, haven’t you? Don’t think I don’t notice them missing, Soldier. I’m a fuck-up—I know it; Iadmitit. But don’t you fucking think for a second that I’m stupid because I’mnot, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the fucking tree.”
I shook my head slowly. “You have absolutelynoidea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh”—she snickered, tossing the bottle back into her bag—“I knowexactlywhat I’m talking about. You’re a damn junkie, just like your old mom.”
“I am nothing like you, Mom.” It made my skin crawl, just thinking she could even accuse me of being anything like her. “And you know why?”
