Instantly cued by her broken sentence, I wondered if this was the Big Secret. “Are you having an affair?”
Mom recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “I’ve got no need for a lover when I can’t manage the relationship I have now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Then where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you.” Tears flooded Mom’s eyes. Her hands fluttered. She needed a drink.
Not wanting her to fall off the wagon hours after hopping on, I stilled her hands with mine. “Mom, look at me. This place you would go to, is it safe?”
She swiped a tear off her chin, another from the end of her nose. “Yes.”
“When are you going?”
“After I clean the house.”
My snort was involuntary. I waved to the unfinished walls, the subfloor we stood on, the dust and rubble. “Then it will never happen.”
“I’ll go tonight. Before he gets home.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket with a message from Travis.
On my way.
“Is that Travis?”
Guilt washed over me. I couldn’t leave her now. I nodded. “He was going to take me to the college. I’ve got a project due at the end of break, and today was the only day my partner could work on it with me. I’ll cancel.”
Her eyes darted to the untrimmed tree and boxes of decorations. The look on her face broke my heart. “I’ll cancel.”
She pulled herself up straight. “Go. Your future is important.”
You’re not responsible for your mom.
But I was. If I left, she might walk right downstairs to the kitchen and open a new bottle of booze.
Do you want to be here when that happens?
Big, buff Brutus.
Or, she might stay to clean the house and get caught by my dad’s return.
Since when did she take care of you?
James, sarcastic and cold.
“I’ll stay.”
“Gemini, go. Live your life and let me worry about mine.” Mom’s eyes had dried. Even through the weariness, they held a glint of fire. Maybe this would be the time.
“Don’t clean and don’t decorate. Just pack now and go.” I scratched down my new phone number and handed it to her. “Call me when you get there, and let’s figure out Christmas.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll stay with Travis.” It was a lie, but she wouldn’t leave otherwise. And maybe I wouldn’t stay here. Maybe I’d live in Granny’s house. Nobody would have to know.
She ran her hand along my cheek. “I love you.”
Say it back.
I wanted to. Tried to, but all that came out was a half sentence. “You too.”
Too much pain had passed, and I didn’t remember when I’d last said those words to her. If I’d ever said them to my parents.
I gave her a hug, grabbed my bag and stumbled out the door.
Chapter 9
Travis waited outside in his pickup.
“What’s that?” He pointed to the smoldering carpet and wrinkled his nose at the stench. After the initial gas had burned off, the flames died down, sending swirling black smoke into the frigid air. At least he hadn’t launched into his fire permit lecture.
“It’s a long story. Mind if I pass on the explanation?”
One curt nod.
With my memory lapses, I knew I’d been taking him for granted, leaning on him more than I had a right to.
And not really in the right way.
Indie’s voice whispered through my mind. Indie was the flirtatious one of the Dozen and always had a sexual take on every dream she’d interpreted for our group. For once the feeling that Travis was off-limits eluded me. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I should focus on the future.
It’s about time. Now let’s get your inner wild on.
Emboldened by her cheeky jab, I buckled up in the middle seatbelt and slid my hand onto Trav’s thigh. My first lucid, non-friend moment. A slight blush crept over his dark cheeks.
See how easy it is to make him happy?
I ignored Indie’s voice. If she had her way, I’d have Travis flat on his back before we pulled out of the driveway.
“I’m fine, Trav. Really fine.”
He swallowed hard and covered my hand with his. “This kind of fine is all right by me.”
The comfortable silence of friendship on the verge of something more followed. Yet whenever his thumb stroked the sensitive skin of my palm, the nagging reluctance to date him returned. Confusion swept over me, and I pushed against my temple. All I knew was that moments like this made my head hurt and I’d forget little things, like my brain was allergic to the very thing my body wanted the most.
But I couldn’t blame him for the full-on blackouts. Those were new since Granny’s phone call at the basketball game. More terrifying was that I hadn’t gone a single day without losing time since that first one. I wrestled with telling Travis about them, as it wouldn’t be fair to pursue a relationship with him when I was so messed up myself. Yet no matter how many times I tried to say something, I couldn’t force myself to admit how broken I was.
Guilt joined me as I left Travis with his friends and slipped inside the college library to find Collin, a junior psych major at Prairie Flats University and my notoriously pompous partner.
Christmas break at PFU didn’t keep us from fulfilling our educational obligations. Neither did Granny’s death. Our stupid psych project on utopian communities would still be due the first day back, and we had gotten nothing done so far. I pulled out my notebook and prepared to do battle. Collin’s know-it-all attitude grated on a normal day. Today, it would kill me. I’d give anything to be like Indie for the next few hours. She’d flirt her way past Collin’s obnoxious behavior and flatter him into submission. Me, not so much.
By the time he arrived, I had a half page of notes completed. My sense of accomplishment deflated the second he flipped open his laptop. I should have known my contribution would be worthless.
“How was your week?” Collin’s voice was used-car-salesman slick and matched his blond pompadour. He’d asked, but he didn’t give a flying monkey’s rear end.
I sighed, not wanting to get into it with him. “Fine.”
“Great. Then let’s get started.” He turned his screen so I could see his handiwork.
“That’s a graph.”
Collin grinned. “It’s great, huh?”
“There’s nothing utopian about a graph.”
“This isn’t the community, babe. It’s just the chart to determine which traits are the most important.” He slipped his arm around the back of my chair, pulling me toward him. He smelled faintly of pine needles—or was it gin?—and reminded me of the tree Mom and I never finished decorating.
My stomach rebelled, and I leaned away from him. “Looks like you’ve already decided which traits are perfect.”
“I did.” His arm dropped over my shoulders, and he ran his finger down my arm, twirled a little circle on my bicep and traced the path back to the nape of my neck.
I jerked away from his touch, looked around for Travis to save me, and realized I’d have to save myself. I pushed Indie’s flirtatious words out of my head and riffled through Granny’s advice, discarding each quaint suggestion. Finally, I reached for an image of Brutus. He used a muscle-bound super hero as his online avatar. I spoke with his strength and authority. “This is a group project, Collin. A partnership.”
“And your point?”
“It’s not a partnership if you don’t let me help.”
“Oh come on, Gemini. I have two more years in this field than you, and I’m your peer mentor.”
“Your point?”
“I know more than you.”
Brutus’s mantra flitted through my mind.
If it’s in your way, remove it.
Preferring to remove myself, I gathered my papers. “Fine. Then you can offer your project with your name on it. I’ll turn in my own.”
“That’s not how it works. As your mentor and partner, your grade on this project is my grade. Whatever you do this year affects me.”
“And everything you do affects me. Adversely, at the moment.”
“You’re hurt.”
“Duh, Mr. Psychology. And you’re an ass.”
Collin raked a perfectly manicured hand through his hair and shot me a playboy grin. “I’m sorry. We’ll work on this together.”
My insides convulsed. “I don’t think so.”
“Well then, have fun telling Professor Balt you’re the quitter.”
I froze at my dad’s favorite word for me.
Just like your daddy
. The old biddy from Granny’s funeral.
Feeling backed into a corner, I slammed my books on the table and sat down. “I’m not quitting.”
The librarian walked by and shushed me.
Collin treated me to another of his slimy grins. “Of course not, babe. You’re better than that. Now what do you have?”
Knowing my input was worthless, I gritted my teeth. “You first.”
He started his dry PowerPoint. When he finished, he leaned back, beaming. “So, did I get it all?”
“Yep. It looks like you covered everything. Except I happen to disagree.”
“How so?”
“For starters, I don’t think the way to manage a utopian society is to control everyone’s entire life. Rigorous laws don’t create happiness. Running naked through the street at midnight does.” Collin’s hand snaked up my thigh. I turned on him, pausing until he met my eyes. “Which people should be free to do and not end up sexually harassed. So get your hand off my leg. Now.”
He grabbed his notebook and began writing. When he sat back up, a physical distance separated us. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you think sexual freedom makes a utopian world?”
My cheeks burned. “I didn’t say that specifically. I just meant that freedom equals happiness. Stringent laws for the sole purpose of controlling people breed discontent.”
“But don’t people need to be controlled?”
“Sometimes, yes. But not in everything. I mean, for crying out loud, Collin, you have people on block A shopping on Tuesdays. Block B gets to do their laundry then. What if I don’t feel like scrubbing my jeans on Tuesday? What if I run out of milk and want a bowl of Fruity Tulips instead?”
“What the hell is a Fruity Tulip?”
“Cereal. The kind I want to eat in my utopian world. It’s the perfect combination of sweetness and…”
“Then eat them. Because in my world, you won’t run out of milk. You would have bought another gallon on Sunday.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. I would have been wearing my pajamas at noon and reading the second book of a trilogy on my granny’s front porch.” Heads turned as my voice escalated into the near silence of the library. The corners of my vision darkened with the familiar fog.
“So that’s your perfect world? Everybody gets to be lazy?”
Walk away.
I wanted to, but the price seemed too high. I’d made a stand, and I had to stick to it. Besides, it was a topic I was passionate about. I truly believed that if my parents could keep it together long enough to hold down a job, they would be happier. “I expect to work. In a lot of ways, that is utopian. People need to feel needed.”
Collin leaned backward, balancing on the back legs of his chair. “Continue.”
“No alcohol. No gambling. No…”
“Back up. Now you’re taking away freedoms that are currently legal.” He let out a low whistle. “Talk about controlling.”
“No different than you telling me when I can’t shop.”
“First off, there’s nothing better than slugging down a cold beer while watching the Super Bowl. And secondly, it’s called controlling the chaos. Don’t you hate it when you get to the grocery store and everybody else in town is there?”
“A little wait in line isn’t going to kill anyone. Drunk driving can.”
I grabbed the seat of his chair and pulled it down so I could see him through the creeping darkness. “And for the record, there
is
something wrong with ‘slugging down a beer.’ Because if you slug down one, a second always follows.”
Collin grinned. “Right. Alcohol is bad. But so is letting people devour too many bowls of Fruity Tulips. It’s called huge medical bills to cover the cost of obesity and diabetes, which I pay for in taxes and insurance premiums.”
“I suppose next you’ll want to limit the number of boxes I can buy?”
“Great idea. We can provide vouchers for every purchase. Then we won’t have chubby alcoholics.”
I held back a scream. “You infuriate me.”
“Relax, babe. Just close your eyes and things will get better. I promise.”
Another promise, Gemi. Be careful.
“Go away, Collin. I can’t handle you right now.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, willing both Collin and my headache away.
Chapter 10
Indie read out loud in a seductive voice, her pouty lips stained red from too much gloss. “Broken girl. Change of heart. Love me not. Don’t even start.”