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“Ugh, it’s that awful smell,” she said. Me and my sister exchanged a look of confusion. My dad was determinedly staring at his phone, scooping food onto his fork without even looking at it. “Like a skunk.”
It took considerable effort not to roll my eyes. There was no way Mom smelled weed on me; I hadn’t even smoked. She was being petty, so I said nothing and went back to my food. But Mom wasn’t done.
She took a long sip of her wine, delicately set down the glass, and said primly, “There’s a drug test on the bathroom counter, Jessica. You’ll take it after dinner.”
My fork clattered against the plate as it dropped from my hand. “Mom, that is ridiculous.”
Dad awkwardly cleared his throat, saying, “Now, Charlene, I thought we talked about that not being necessary.”
But Mom paid him no mind.
“I know what those boys do, Jessica,” she hissed. “What kind of fool do you think I am? Your sister goes to school with that Volkov boy’s sister, and she claims the two of you aredating. Dating adrug dealer, Jessica? Really?”
“He’s not —”
Mom gave a highly unpleasant laugh. “Criminal records are accessible to the public, I’ll have you know. If he was getting in trouble for it in high school, I highly doubt he’s stopped now. While you are living under my roof, you will follow my rules. And I will not have you going out and getting high with these degenerates.”
“You don’t know them!”
I stood up so fast that my chair screeched across the floor. They were all staring at me, eyes wide, food forgotten. My skin was on fire. I was so furious that I almost sputtered as I shouted.
“You’ve never met them, you’ve never even asked me about them! You’re basing all of this off of assumptions you made about them years ago! If you’re so concerned about my well-being, if you’re so damn worried, why don’t you talk to me like a human being? Why don’t you treat me like you actually care? You’re just pissed off that I’m not dating someoneyouwant me to!”
Mom stared at me, her mouth agape. Steph was making a clear “oh shit” face as she watched me completely lose my temper. Dad was peering at me over his reading glasses.
“Let’s all just calm down,” he said, but I wasn’t having it.
I was past the point of being calm.
“I’ll start paying rent,” I said. “Dad, we can have a discussion soon and agree on a price, okay?” He nodded, still looking perplexed. “And I’ll be moving out as soon as I can. Mom...” She folded her arms, stubbornness running through every inch of her. “If you actually care, if this has anything to do with youactuallybeing worried about my safety, I’ll happily talk to you about it. But you’ve never asked me how I felt. You’ve never asked if I felt safe, happy, cared for, anything! And I can’t even introduce them to you. I can’t give you an opportunity to know them, because you won’t let them near the house.”
“And I won’t be letting them,” she said. “I know everything I need to.”
I sighed, picking up my plate. “No, you don’t. And if you keep refusing to see that, then someday, you won’t know me at all. You won’t hear from me. You won’t see me. No phone calls, no visits, no texts. Nothing. You are driving me away from you.” I held eye contact with her, watching fury and sadness go to war in her eyes. “Because of you, when I leave here, I’m not going to want to come back.”
She gasped, but I’d already turned my back. Dumping my plate in the sink, having lost my appetite, I spent the rest of the evening shut in my room.
My heart was in my throat when I heard my mother’s footsteps come up the stairs. But she didn’t knock; she didn’t even take a step towards my room. I heard her bedroom door close, and faintly, the sound of her TV.
My throat was so tight. My eyes stung, until my vision was nothing more than a watery blur.
I’d always wanted my mom’s approval so badly. When I was little, the thought of disappointing her made me physically ill. But now, any desire of the like was out the window. I felt stifled, frustrated,stuck. I felt like I’d been made into a villain not because I’d done something wrong, but because I’d dared to do somethingrightfor me.
It hurt. It fucking sucked. Severing my relationship with my mom felt like cutting off my own arm. Even if it was necessary, even if that was the only way I’d be able to move forward in my life.
I still felt so damn guilty.
***
That guilt hadn’t goneaway when Jason arrived to pick me up for the gym the next morning.
“Morning,” he said, leaning over to kiss me. He obviously hadn’t slept well either. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his voice was still rough as if he’d just rolled out of bed. His hair was disheveled, curled into odd positions and mashed against his head on one side.
“Morning,” I said, rubbing my tired eyes. Lack of sleep always gave me a headache. I was still trying to begrudgingly work my way through a protein bar, but every bite tasted like sticky cardboard.
By the time we pulled into the gym parking lot, I’d simply given up on eating it.
Jason parked, but he didn’t immediately turn off the engine. We sat there in silence as the song played out, both of us lost in our grumpy little worlds.
