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Mom eyes me for a solid minute. “That’s all it was?”
I shift my gaze away.
“Very well then.” Mom stands and her heels clip the floor with a slow tap, tap. “As long as we don’t have a repeat of your rudeness, we shouldn’t have any problems going forward. If you need help filling the questionnaire, let me know.”
She sashays toward me, her cloying perfume filling the air.
I stiffen.
Recoil.
She’s never hit me.
Never.
But the emotional scars—
They go much deeper than bruises.
They don’t freaking heal.
Mom reaches out and tugs at my shirt button. I glance down and realize my shirt’s still blaring open. I hadn’t fixed it since going to the beach with Kaelyn.
Mom puts the third button back in place. “You shouldn’t go around looking so disheveled, Kastle.” She turns to the other button. “You’re a Jameson, remember? There are certain expectations on you to look, speak and behave in a manner worthy of one.” She gets to the button all the way at my neck and cinches it tight. “You don’t want me to regret making you a part of my family, do you?”
My fingers tremble. I pull them into fists. “No.”
“Good.” She smiles and pats my chest. “Don’t hang up on me again. And don’t make me come all the way down here just to have a conversation.” She palms my cheek and looks up at me. “You’re my son. You should come to me.”
My nostrils flare, but I say nothing.
Mom pats my cheek with enough force to shove my head to the side, and then spins on her heels. Her shoes clack against the marble floors as she stalks out, leaving the scent of her heavy perfume trailing behind her.
The moment she’s gone, I let my scowl take over. Every time I’m in her presence, I feel like a kid again, struggling to fit in, to be perfect, to not make a single mistake because I knew if I did, they’d send me back.
I put my all into being who they wanted me to be.
I studied until my nose bled and aced all my exams.
I signed all the papers they put in front of me. Let the producers cast me in every episode. Let the world into my most private and embarrassing moments.
I went to all the fan meetings and the award shows.
But it was never enough.
A part of me became obsessed with earning her approval. It seeped into my identity and fused so closely with me that I began to forget what it was like to act and think and move on my own.
Kaelyn was the only one who could see me.
Pull me out of that spell.
I glance at my phone again. Kaelyn!
I dial her number.
It rings.
Connects.
