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Every second of our lives, Mom was convinced something horrible was going to happen to Kane or me. But Kane doesn’t want to believe it.
“We haven’t moved in over two years,” he argues. “She’s getting better, and I’m still convinced something happened to her—“
“Oh yeah? Then tell me what that was, Kane. Because in all your digging through the years, you’ve found nothing. And there’s nobody out there who’s as good with a computer as you. If there was something to be found, you would have already found it.”
This is the same argument we always have. I think mom needs a psychiatrist or a pretty, white straitjacket, and my brother wants to believe that something caused her to be so neurotic.
“She’s running from something.”
“Yeah, probably from a nice jab with a tranquilizer needle or a soft, padded room where she can’t hurt herself.” I bite the inside of my cheek.
I don’t mean to speak so poorly of my mom. I love her with all my heart, but I can’t deal with her baseless fears while dealing with the very real concerns I have about where the hell I’ll get my next paycheck.
Kane changes the subject, probably because he knows the topic of Mom will make me lose my mind.
“How’s school going?”
It’s not a better subject, but I’ll take it. At least I can toss him the same bullshit assurances I normally do, then we can move on with our lives.
“Great. In fact, I need to get to class soon. I have a test coming up and I don’t want to miss the lecture.”
“Gotcha. Have you made any new friends?”
Another sigh escapes me. I have to hand it to Kane. He is fighting harder than most brothers would to give me a better life than we had as kids. I think he hopes I’ll meet some rich guy at college and fall in love. That we’ll get married after graduating with our degrees, get jobs and have babies.
Sadly, that will never be the life for me.
“I have Brinley. She’s the least snooty of the bunch.”
He laughs. “Maybe if you stop referring to them as snooty, you may actually get to know some of them better and make more friends.”
I lean back against the headboard of my bed. The truth is I really do have a lecture coming up in a half hour, but I haven’t been able to crawl out from under the safety of my covers to face a class I’m failing while also worrying about what work will be like tonight.
Granger and I argued last night for over an hour about him wanting to take things further, and I don’t want to face him. I don’t fuck for money, and if things went there with Granger, that’s exactly what I would be doing.
The amount of anger that surged through me when Damon even suggested I was nothing but a whore was unstoppable. I kicked him without even considering the consequences.
Since that night two weeks ago, work has been depressing as hell. Damon hasn’t come back, and while I shouldn’t want to see him after what he said to me, I still can’t get him out of my head.
He was a mess the last night he came to see me. Basically at a breaking point, and there was nothing I could do to reach him. It was all I could do to calm him down enough that he didn’t stalk out of the room and start a fight with someone just to ease whatever pain he’s obviously going through.
And that right there is the consequence of caring.
I’m stuck thinking about a guy I should hate. Wondering about how he’s doing while knowing I’ll probably never see him again.
Kane clears his throat, dragging me back to the conversation.
“They are snooty,” I answer weakly. “But I’m handling it. All I have to do is smile and nod while they discuss their yachts and mansions and shit. We all get along just fine. Brinley’s the only normal person I’ve met so far. She doesn’t let money go to her head.”
He laughs. “Uh-huh, and what do you talk about while they discuss their yachts and mansions?”
“I tell them about Mom’s 1970 wood paneled station wagon that was big enough for us to sleep in during the weeks we couldn’t find a better place to stay.”
His voice weakens and I can almost see the smile fade from his expression. “Very funny, Ames.”
“Yeah. Well…”
I need to end this conversation before he asks a question that’s worse than the ones he’s already asked so far.
