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Rowan
“Oh, my baby girl, it’s so good to see you.” Mom throws her arms around me in a hug, pulling me close, and I let her hold me, inhaling the familiar scent of baking flour and mixed spices. My mom kisses the top of my head and holds me out at arm’s length to scope me out. “You’ve lost weight,” she says. “And you look so tired, honey. Why are you so tired?”
I open my mouth to explain, or to say anything really, and then close it again, because I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t speak anymore without wanting to cry. Mom seems to sense this, because she pulls me back into her, shushing me.
“Let’s sit down,” she says. “And you can tell me all about it.”
The house is empty, like it has been for a few days. Jamie is at class and Carly hasn’t come around, so I’ve basically been on my own, moping around the house, hiding from the humiliation waiting for me inside my college classes. I can’t do it. I can’t face them, and I especially can’t face the flyers that are still being passed around campus … mocking me.
“Okay, sweetie,” Mom says, taking my hands in hers as we sit down on the living room couch. She looks good, my mom, like one of those Betty Crocker women who can single handedly raise her family and conquer the world at the same time. “Something is going on, so tell me what it is.”
I sigh, pushing out some air between my teeth. I don’t want to tell her, I really don’t, because I’m humiliated enough without telling my parents that I whored around with two guys I barely know and lost one of my friends in the process.
But I do tell her. I tell my mom everything, because that’s what she does best. She listens. And right now, I need someone to listen more than ever.
When I’m finished, my mom hands me the box of tissues sitting on the coffee table and reaches for me, pulling me into another much-needed bear hug.
“I remember these boys,” she says, and something in her voice has changed. She’s tense, disappointed, even though she’s trying to hide it behind her motherly love. I blow my nose and shake my head.
“It’s not their fault, Mom. This time, it’s my fault.”
“What compelled you to have intimate relationships with two of the boys who made your life horrible?” Mom asks. She doesn’t raise her voice or yell or even get angry, and that’s what makes me keep going.
“I guess … I guess I found out how much I liked them,” I told her. “I mean, I feel like that in the beginning it was rough, and I wanted to do it for revenge, you know, to hurt them like they hurt me. But it didn’t work out that way, because I enjoyed our time together. With both of them.”
Mom doesn’t say anything to this, but she nods her head and strokes my hair, murmuring soft words under her breath.
“And this thing with your roommate?” she asks. “Have you and Carly hashed it out?”
“No.” My chin drops to my chest as another bout of fresh tears press against the back of my eyeballs. “She hasn’t been home and won’t answer her phone.”
“And she’s the one that made up those flyers about you?”
“Yeah.” I fall back against the couch, rubbing my face dry with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “It’s not like I didn’t deserve it though, Mom. I never thought I could be capable of hurting people like this.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom rests her warm hand on top of mine, eyes twinkling. “Life is full of people who made and continue to make mistakes every day. It’s part of what makes life interesting.” She winks, and I can’t help but smile a bit. “Apologize. Apologize to whoever you need to, and then move on. If they forgive you, be glad they did. If they can’t, well, that will be their burden to bear.”
“Thanks, Mama.” I lean forward and let her hug me again, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. As the tears begin to dry up, there’s a soft knock on the front door. Mom pulls back, eyebrows raised, and I shrug. Jamie and Carly wouldn’t knock; who else is interested in seeing me?
“Give me just a second,” I say, shaking my head. I cross the room and open the front door, expecting to see Jason, maybe, or his sister Alaina. But it’s not either of them.
It’s Matthew Fucking Nelson.
