by Coralee June
“He never did anything, though,” I quickly added. “I know Jared isn’t the same, but it feels opportunistic. He comes from a good family. I’m sure she was all too happy to force us to spend time together.” Hamilton went quiet for a long moment, and I quietly ate my food while thinking over what happened. “She always wanted this, you know. Joseph is the perfect kind of man for my mother. I just don’t know if she’ll ever let me live my own life. She feels like I owe her, as if my existence is a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”
“You don’t owe her a damn thing, Petal,” Hamilton growled. “You don’t owe her shit. Okay? Fuck. I can’t believe she did that to you.”
“She didn’t do anything really; she just encouraged his attention. He was harmless.” Until he wasn’t. There was one night where he grabbed my ass and whispered dirty words into my ear, calling me a tease. If his wife hadn’t shown up and knocked on the door, I don’t want to know what would have happened. Calling the entire experience harmless was probably not a healthy way to look at it, but I’d always struggled with seeing the more sinister parts of my mother’s motivations.
“She was trying to pimp her fucking daughter out. Don’t you see what’s wrong with that? Did he touch you? What was his name?”
I swallowed my bite of food before leaning over the table to kiss him on the cheek. “He never touched me,” I lied. “He just looked. He just…lingered.” Leered. Licked his lips. Dropped things on the floor and asked me to pick them up.
“And your mother has the fucking audacity to get angry about me?” Hamilton huffed. “She doesn’t care about your wellbeing; she cares about money and her image. She’s a nasty opportunist, Vera. Can’t you see it?”
I always thought it was strange that Mom was willing to sacrifice me, when she was a victim herself. I often wondered if she did it because she didn’t know any better or because her morals and rigid views about sex and roses and mistakes had a gray area when it benefitted her.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I snapped before getting up and putting my fork in the sink. My trembling fingers could barely hold my silverware. I knew deep down that Hamilton was right. My mother was determined. The fact that she lied about being pregnant and went to such lengths to hide it was proof enough of that.
“I’m sorry if I upset you, I just don’t understand your loyalty to her.”
I spun around and leaned against the counter. Crossing my arms over my chest, I spoke. “Have you ever loved someone destructive? Someone that had something really shitty happen to them. Someone that had a good reason for being the way that they were. It kills you to watch them ruin their lives, but you understand it. You’ve seen their trauma firsthand. You’ve held them during their most vulnerable moments. You’ve suffered because they suffered.”
Hamilton stared at me, his eyes full of emotion but his expression vacant. “Yeah. I have.” I wanted to know about the person Hamilton loved who was destructive, but I didn’t ask. Letting out a sigh, I wrung my hands through my skirt before responding. How could I possibly explain my mother to Hamilton? To an outsider, her behavior didn’t make sense.
I was willing to love a person for what they were capable of. Just because my mother was ruined by abuse and shouldered with the responsibility of raising a baby while barely a teen herself, didn’t mean that she wasn’t capable of loving. She just didn’t know how to do things the right way. You can’t blame someone for their ignorance. “She’s just a damaged woman. She’s struggled with her mental health all my life. Even though she didn’t let me see a lot of it, I knew it was there. I know that, at some point, we all are responsible for our actions. We can’t always blame our trauma for the bad things we do. But what if the person simply doesn’t know any better? What if her only perception of love came from a child she didn’t want and a mother who abused her? I guess it may seem like I should challenge my mother to do better, but it’s not that easy. She is a product of her upbringing. She’s driven by her desire to feel secure. It’s not a crime to want a better life. I just want her to be happy.”
Hamilton thrust his hands through his hair and looked down at the ground. “I get it,” he whispered. “I really get it. My mother was an addict, Vera. Started taking pills after I was born.”
I wasn’t expecting Hamilton to admit that, and waited patiently for him to continue, though on the inside I was thankful that he was opening up to me—really opening up. It made our relationship feel more real. He popped his knuckles. I knew in my gut that Hamilton had to reconcile with his story on his own terms. He’d only share what he was comfortable with, and if he wanted to tell me more, he would.
“When I was young, I didn’t get it, but as I got older and the news about my birth mother broke, it all suddenly made sense.” Hamilton stood up and started cleaning up the kitchen, keeping his hands busy as he worked. “I was just a kid. I just wanted her to love me like she loved Joseph. But she was broken by Jack’s betrayal. The drugs got harder. The hate got heavier. The burden of her depression became too much, but I wanted to carry it all. I felt responsible for her sadness, you know.”
I wanted to wrap Hamilton up in a hug. It broke my heart to hear him talk about his mother. “I’ve never had normal relationships. I just wanted to be accepted. But I understood her pain. I wanted to take it all from her. And then she ended her life.”
I gasped. “Oh, Hamilton, that is terrible,” I whispered, emotion clogging my throat. I pushed myself off the counter and went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek against his back. He patted my hand awkwardly and remained tense, but after a few minutes, he slowly relaxed into my embrace, curling his shoulders forward and letting out little hums of appreciation.
He pulled away, turned around, and kissed my forehead before speaking. “We’re conditioned to think that our parents are invincible heroes. We want the best for them. And slowly their humanity seeps through the cracks, you know? Sometimes they just aren’t capable of getting better—of changing. But at what point do we stop letting their issues ruin our lives?”
I didn’t have an answer to Hamilton’s question. I was still letting my mother call all the shots in my life. Even now, though I was with Hamilton, it was taking every ounce of control that I had not to run to her and ask for permission and forgiveness. I wanted to fix this. I hated disappointing her. That impulse to bend over backward and fix everything was ingrained in my soul.
“Let’s get going. Don’t want you to be late,” Hamilton said, changing the subject.
“Okay,” I replied. I was starting to understand Hamilton’s cues. When he wanted to end a conversation, when it was getting too close for comfort, he simply ended it.
Ended. It.
20
Jared was pacing the hallway outside the auditorium when I walked up. I clutched my textbook to my chest, treating it like armor as I walked up to him. Hamilton offered to go with me, but I needed to do this on my own. Jared had hurt me. If it weren’t for Hamilton calling him out, I probably wouldn’t have known that he was working for my stepfather. I had to start meeting my problems head on. No more hiding from them.
The moment Jared’s cerulean eyes landed on me, he practically sprinted my direction, a mixture of relief and anticipation on his porcelain expression. “Vera! Thank fuck you’re here. Joseph has been calling me nonstop—”
Of course Joseph had been calling him. My stepfather was such a prick. I kept walking, avoiding Jared’s gaze and heading toward the door despite his bulky frame blocking my path. “I don’t want to talk to you about my family and how they hired you to be my friend,” I snapped.
Jared grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to stop. “Vera, stop being dramatic. It’s a good thing I’ve been here. For fuck’s sake, Saint showed up on campus last week and threatened you. I was just making sure you were safe. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”
I looked up and clenched my teeth for a moment before replying. Jared at least had the decency to look completely fucked. Hi
s hair was wild, and his normally finely pressed suit was wrinkled. “Right. That was the same day you stormed off because I wouldn’t date you. Did you even like me? You were just trying to pressure me into something to make my mother happy. And for the record, it’s a big deal, because everything I told you—in confidence—you reported back to my mother! I trusted you, Jared.”
Some students walked by, eyeing us curiously. I knew we were making quite a scene, but I didn’t really care. “Look, honestly, I’m not a huge fan of your mother. She’s a major cunt, and the dating thing was her idea. I get why she wanted to avoid a scandal with the whole unclefucker thing, but she was really pushing a relationship between us hard. Not that it was a hardship. You’re hot, Vera.”
At least Jared was being honest with me now. Even though it kind of hurt my pride. “Did you like me at all? Not just romantically but as a friend?”
Jared let out a huff. “You’re a cool chick, Vera. You’re a little boring, and I wish you went out more, but I did enjoy our time together. And you’re totally fuckable. But does it even matter what I think? You’ve really just dived off the deep end with Hamilton there. Your mother wanted me to drag you out of his house, but I’m not trying to catch a case here.”
My brow dipped in confusion. Now that all of Jared’s lies were out in the open, it was like talking to a completely different person. He was every bit the frat boy fucker I initially thought he was.
“I’m so sorry that my sex life is ruining your future career aspirations.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Dude. I’m not pressed. But you seriously need to get your shit together. I don’t know what it is about Hamilton that makes Joseph rage, but he’s been shitting a brick ever since I told them about the two of you. Do you know why they hate one another? I mean, damn, Joseph really hates his little brother. There’s got to be a reason, right? I don’t think Hamilton’s being completely honest with you.”
“That’s rich coming from you. God, I fucking hate you,” I growled. “Hamilton has been honest with me from day one. If you want to know why Joseph hates Hamilton, then ask him yourself since you’re so fucking close. Why, Jared? It’s not like you’re hurting for money or a job. Why?”
“See, that’s the thing,” Jared said while lowering his voice and taking a step closer. “I am hurting for money. Dad is close to filing for bankruptcy. I have a scholarship for class, but Joseph paid for my apartment. I actually do need this job. You of all people should understand that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked in a shrill voice.
“I just mean, you and your mom know what it’s like to be willing to do anything to get ahead. I can’t rely on my trust fund or my dad’s connections anymore. This job with Joseph was a godsend, and I’m not going to apologize for jumping on the opportunity, especially since hanging out with you wasn’t much of a hardship.”
I was stunned. “I’m going to ignore your statement about getting ahead. My mother married Joseph under false pretenses, not me. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this. What’s ironic is that my mother is under the impression that you’re rich. She keeps pushing me to date you because she seems to think it would be good for me. Fucking joke.”
“Yeah, she has the right idea but the wrong dude. I’m broke as hell. Which is why I’m going to politely ask you to stop fucking your uncle and let me go back to working with you. I really need this, dude.”
I gaped at him. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not at all. It’s my senior year, Vera. I just need to get a fucking piece of paper and get out of here. Please consider it. I just really don’t think Hamilton is worth it. I get the impression that he doesn’t have your best interest at heart.”
“And you do?” I asked incredulously while crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re such a dick.”
Jared threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey. I just figured I owed you one. I legit think Hamilton is on some next level shit. Something is not right about him. Also, you’re really hot when you’re mad. Come on, sweetheart, we could be really good together. It doesn’t all have to be work, you know.” He winked at me. Jared fucking winked.
“You lying, opportunistic bastard!” I yelled, not caring who heard me. “Thank fuck I learned who you really were in time.” I poked Jared in the chest and pressed my lips into a thin line before speaking again. “Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. I want absolutely nothing to do with you. Hell, I don’t even know you. Leave me alone. Your money issues are not my problem.”
“And what am I supposed to tell Joseph?” Jared growled while throwing his hands up.
“Tell him you failed. Tell him to call me. Tell him to get fucked for all I care. Bye.”
I left Jared standing there with his shoulders slumped before making my way into the classroom. Deciding to avoid Jared, I took a seat on the fourth row and angrily got out my notepad.
Jared filed into his seat just before Dr. Bhavsar arrived. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing when they landed on me in my new seat. “Good morning, class. Your syllabus says we’re going to talk about Ralph Waldo Emerson, the father of the transcendentalist movement. Can someone please tell me what the transcendentalist movement is?”
Someone a few seats down from me spoke up. “It’s an idealistic system of thought. It says that humanity is innately good. It also focuses on the supremacy of insight over logic and suggests that experience leads to the revelation of one’s deepest truths.”
“Congratulations, you can read a textbook,” Dr. Bhavsar said dryly before pulling up a powerpoint and continuing. “Ralph Waldo Emerson was a champion of individualism. He rejected the pressures of society and shared his views through essays, poetry, and lectures. He believed in intuition and imagination. He believed that people could be their own authority when deciding what is right.”
Dr. Bhavsar clicked the powerpoint and smiled at me. “Have you ever trusted your intuition more than logic, Vera?”
I swallowed. Yes. Yes, I had. Logic was telling me that Hamilton was a train wreck about to destroy me. “Yes,” I admitted.
In the front row, Jared snorted. “I wouldn’t call being horny intuition,” he said under his breath but still loud enough for me to hear.
Fucking prick. Dr. Bhavsar cleared her throat while scowling at Jared. “Emerson believed that our potential was limitless. Do you think that humans are capable of determining what is right without the influence of authority figures, organized religion, government, social institutions, and industrialization? Does a man who lives alone in the woods know not to murder if he’s never taught that it is wrong?” she asked. “Emerson believed we should radically seek answers through our own experiences. We stop ourselves from finding our higher selves if we allow outside influences to make our decisions for us.”
“We can’t just throw out logic for feeling,” Jared scoffed. “What if our thoughts are skewed? What if we make a mistake? Just because something feels right, doesn’t mean it is right.”
Dr. Bhavsar looked like she was trying to remain calm. “I’m not here to tell you what school of thought to follow. I’m just here to teach you different philosophies and how they shape the world we live in. Emerson challenged many antiquated views. He was a supporter of women’s rights and was an abolitionist, too. Sometimes you have to challenge the rules and follow your own intuition of right and wrong. It’s what leads to change. If we all allowed the powers that be to dictate our goodness, we could end up stagnant in a morally bankrupt society. An individual isn’t as easily corrupted as a group. Emerson’s entire platform was to look within for the answer.”
“Sounds like some hippie shit,” a frathole beside me said.
The rest of the lecture continued, with less class interaction, but I continued to think about what Dr. Bhavsar had said. I had to stop thinking about how a relationship with Hamilton would affect my mother or how it would look to the rest of the world. I knew that what we shared had the potential to be great. It fe
lt right. He felt right.
When class ended, I practically sprinted to the parking lot where Hamilton was parked. I circled his car and ripped open the driver’s side door, greeting his surprised face before motioning for him to stand outside.
The leaves were beginning to fall around me. Cars swerving through the parking lot honked at us. A brisk chill traveled down my spine. I’d never felt so utterly present in my entire life. “Are you okay?” Hamilton asked while unbuckling and standing up. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his eyebrows shot up. I brazenly pressed my lips to his. He wrapped his arms around my trembling body and deepened the kiss. Tongues tasting. Hands roaming. Moaning. The wind picked up my hair as I lifted up on my toes and arched my back to get closer to him. On and on it went until finally, Hamilton pulled away and cupped my cheeks. “What was that for?”
I licked my lips, tasting traces of mint. “Just following my gut,” I replied with a smile before wrapping him up in a huge hug and pressing my cheek against his chest.
“Oh? And what does your gut say?”
Pulling away, I looked up at Hamilton. My gut was telling me that this thing between us would be great. It was telling me that he was worth it. That he wouldn’t hurt me. That if I allowed myself, I could fall for him.
But I wasn’t ready to tell him all of this just yet. “Oh, nothing,” I replied before lifting up on my toes and kissing his jaw once more. “Let’s go back to your place, yeah?”
Hamilton nodded. “Okay, Petal.”
21
It was scary how easily we settled into a routine. We hadn’t talked about the fact that I kept clothes at his place and a toothbrush in his bathroom. It didn’t feel like domestic bliss—an intimate step forward in our relationship where our spaces merged in tune with our souls. It felt like a vacation. A blissful escape from my mother’s texts, which had become more and more sparse. It was a reprieve from Jared’s judgmental looks and my own insecurities. I was following my gut, and my gut led us through five days of peace.