The Truth about Us

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The Truth about Us Page 20

by Janet Gurtler

“Eat first and then talk?” he says. “I’m starving.”

  He opens the pizza box and pats the spot beside him, so I sit, pulling off my shoes and pressing my bare feet against his. There’s so much to say, but it doesn’t feel necessary to rush. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that being with Flynn is many wonderful things, but it doesn’t fill an empty stomach.

  His hands me a slice of pizza, and I fold it and take a big bite, and my mouth is instantly delighted by an amazing sauce and crust.

  “Mmmm.” I smile at our toes and chew, loving the feeling of sand on my feet.

  We eat in silence. A seagull squawks above us, and I watch it swoop around us in a circle.

  “You cold?” There’s a breeze from the water. Flynn notices when I shiver and he pulls off his hoodie.

  “No. It’s okay. Really.” I shake my head, but he’s already wrapping it around my shoulders.

  He takes another slice of pizza and inhales it while he stares off at the ocean. A moment later, he turns to me. “I really am sorry,” he says.

  Another seagull swoops in, joining the first one that’s now on the shore, not too far in front of us. “I told my mom about you. She thinks it’s cool.”

  “Really?” He smiles, understanding the significance.

  “Yeah. She’s been up and about more lately.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  I nod. “We’re not doing anything wrong.” I watch his profile. “It’s not wrong to like each other.”

  He’s chewing, but he looks at me and smiles. “I know.” He leans closer and kisses me, but it’s a short and friendly peck. “Do you want the last piece?” Flynn says, gesturing to the pizza box.

  I shake my head and smile. Flynn ate two pieces for every one of mine. He takes the last piece from the box, but instead of shoving it in his mouth, he rips it into small pieces and then throws them ahead of us, scattering them around for the birds circling us, the birds who’ve been enviously watching us eat. They swarm down to the shore and devour the pizza in a noisy feast.

  “Figured they were hungry too,” he says like it’s no big deal to give up the last piece to a bunch of birds, and then he sits back beside me, relaxing against me on the sand.

  He reaches for my hand, and we entwine our slightly greasy fingers. The sensation makes me tingle all the way to my heart. It’s hard to tell where his hand starts and my hand ends. I lean against him, calmer now. I’m not afraid. We’ll find a way to make things work.

  “I don’t want to sneak around,” he says. “Not with you.”

  I shake my head. Our palms are sweaty as they press against each other, but it’s a nice mushy sensation. We kiss again, but instead of building up like a frantic song that needs a climax, a splashy ending, it slowly winds down. It’s not a kiss of passion but a promise.

  “It’s going to be okay, Jess,” he whispers. We stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

  “Do you think I’m crazy?” I ask him. “For coming to see you. What if you had turned me away?”

  He laughs. “I guess you knew I wouldn’t.”

  The water and the wind and the birds play an unchoreographed song in the background.

  “Kiss me,” he says. I lean back and enjoy the flavor of him, the slightly tangy taste of pizza on my lips.

  “Mm,” he says. “You are delicious, but we should go.” He gets to his feet and holds out his hand. “I need to get home before my mom goes to work. I’ll walk you to the bus stop and wait with you so you’re safe.”

  I take his hand, stand, and slide my shoes on. “I don’t want to go home,” I tell him.

  “I know. But your dad already hates me. Let’s not make it worse.”

  “My dad.” I shake my head. Some of my anger returns.

  “Don’t worry,” he says as he puts his shoes on. “I’ll wear him down. I’ll find a way. I won’t stay away. Not anymore.”

  We walk to the bus stop holding hands. Most of all, I’m happy. When the bus approaches, I let his hand go reluctantly and watch out the window until we turn a corner and I can’t see him anymore. I wish we could have stayed on the beach forever. But we have to get back to real life and find a way to make it work in a world where people don’t think we should be together.

  It can’t be that bad now that we have each other.

  chapter twenty-two

  I’m practically floating up the driveway, trying to contain my megasmile. When I open the door and step inside the house, the atmosphere hits me immediately. It’s not empty, and it’s not quiet. Dad stands in the living room, his face a scary mask. Behind him, Allie is sitting on the couch, her face all pinched up and worried. My happiness bubble splats, and my smile disappears. I immediately feel like I’ve done something wrong.

  “We’ve been looking for you. Where were you?” he demands.

  I start sweating and glance at Allie for a clue about what’s going on. “Nowhere,” I automatically say.

  Boom! He smacks the wall beside him with his hand, quickly getting my attention fully back. I jump and step back from him.

  “What the hell?” I yell.

  “Watch your mouth, Jess,” he yells back. “Were you with that boy?” he asks.

  “I was working,” I yell. And it’s true. I was working. Before I was with that boy.

  He taps on his watch as if he’s trying to break the glass on it with his finger. “Until this time?”

  I press my lips shut and glance at Allie. Her back is straight, her eyes are open wide, and she’s biting her lip the way she used to when she was a kid and she’d done something wrong. She shakes her head, but I don’t get her meaning.

  “I was at New Beginnings,” I repeat. “Working.”

  “Not this entire time. Lunch doesn’t last that long.”

  I shrug.

  “I told you I didn’t want you working there,” he says. “And I certainly didn’t want you traipsing off to Clover Lawn on your own.”

  My blood stops flowing and my body freezes. How do they possibly know? “You’ve told me lots of things,” I snap. “You once told me you’d never let anything bad happen to this family.”

  Allie’s eyes open wider. I’m playing dirty now.

  “You are not to see that boy. Or go to that neighborhood.”

  “What did you tell him?” I turn to Allie, seething. She’s sitting on the couch, watching this happen. Not even trying to stick up for me.

  “Jess,” she says. Her head is tilted, and if she were a dog, her ears would be pulled back. “It’s for your own good. You’re caught up in something that isn’t good for you.”

  “My own good?” I make a growling sound and stomp my foot. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shout. “Who do you think you are? You’re barely part of this family anymore, and suddenly you know what’s best for me? You don’t know anything!” I yell.

  Dad grabs me by the shoulder. “Your sister is trying to save you from a huge mistake.”

  “Huge mistake?” I shake him off me and back away from both of them. “Flynn is the only thing in my life that isn’t complete crap. For the first time in ages I have someone to talk to.”

  “Jess,” my dad interrupts.

  “What?” I yell as loud as I can, the anger bubbling in my throat. I want to hit a wall too. “You think I’m making that up? How would either of you even know? Neither one of you is ever here. You”—I point my finger at his face—“are always flying off, disappearing for days at a time. And you.” I turn back and point at my sister. “She is not at Dana’s house. She’s practically living with Doug. She sleeps at his house, and everyone knows it except you and Mom. This family is a mess.”

  “Jess!” she shouts, jumping to her feet, her eyes wide and tears flowing.

  “What? You think you can tell on me but I have to keep covering for you? Doug’s mom is
more of a family to you than we are.” I scoff and swivel back to my dad. “You really don’t know where she’s staying? You’re that removed from what’s going on you don’t even know?”

  My dad stares at Allie, his eyes wide. His perfect daughter isn’t so perfect after all.

  “I won’t be banned from seeing Flynn. His family may not have money or live in the nicest area, but at least his mom isn’t home hiding in her bedroom so hopped up on pills she doesn’t have to deal with reality.”

  Allie’s eyes open wider. She’s staring at something behind me. I close my eyes for a second, and my stomach drops. I open them and turn. Mom is standing at the bottom of the stairs, her hand on the railing.

  Her mouth is open in an O shape.

  “Mom,” I say quickly, walking toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

  She lifts her hand. Shakes her head. “No,” she says. “No, I deserve that.”

  The house is suddenly too quiet. The clock on the wall ticks too loudly. The hum of electronics is deafening.

  “Fuck,” my dad says, and my ears almost fall off. The self-control is slipping away.

  “Martin,” my mom says, her voice quiet but not weak. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” He turns from all of us, slides on shoes, grabs a jacket, and storms out the door.

  The three of us stare at the closed door, shocked.

  “Fuck,” my mom says.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her again.

  She stares back at me. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” And then she starts to laugh.

  I move closer to her, worried. Allie walks toward us too.

  “Mom?” Allie says. “You okay?”

  Mom lifts her hand and covers her mouth, but a giggle sneaks out.

  “Fuck,” I say.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Allie shouts at me.

  I giggle then, realizing why Mom’s laughing. Because we’re ridiculous. All of us. It’s actually kind of honest to freaking laugh about it.

  “She said it first,” I say as if I’m five years old again.

  Mom puts an arm around me and holds out her other arm for Allie. Allie scoots under, and Mom embraces both of us. She’s not laughing anymore, but she smiles and shakes her head.

  “Jess is right. We’re a mess.”

  Allie cries louder, and Mom lets me go and pulls her close. They stand like that for a while, and I go to the couch and plop down, exhausted.

  Mom pulls away from Allie first. “It’s okay, Allie,” she says. “Your dad will be back soon. He’s having a hard time believing you girls are actually growing up without his say-so. And he certainly doesn’t know what to do with me. He’s gone for a walk. To get some perspective.”

  I stare at the door my dad walked out of. Allie comes to the couch and sits close beside me, pressing her leg against mine. We may be mad at each other, but we’re still all we’ve got in this crazy parent scenario.

  “I’m sorry, Allie,” I tell her. “But what the hell did you tell Dad about Flynn? I’ve been covering for you for over a year.”

  I glance at my mom. She’s gone to the kitchen to fix a cup of tea.

  “For the record, I knew where you were,” she calls to Allie as she puts a cup under the Keurig. “But I trust Doug’s mom.”

  Allie and I exchange a wide-eyed look. All sorts of truths are coming out now that we’ve opened up the gaping wound that is our family.

  Allie sighs. “Nance called. She sounded really concerned. She said you were in Clover Lawn and that she was really worried. That you were in danger. She made that boy sound awful.”

  “Flynn? He’s not dangerous! And how’d she even know I was there?”

  “I don’t know. But she kind of implied you were going to walk in on him making a deal or something. And that you could get hurt.”

  “Oh my God!” I yell as loud as I yelled at my dad earlier. “She said that? That is a lie. He was babysitting his little brother. I was not in danger.”

  “Good Lord, Allie, why didn’t you tell me if that’s what you were afraid of?” Mom calls from the kitchen.

  Allie and I exchange another look.

  “Or at least tell your father,” she concedes with a sigh as she walks out of the kitchen toward us, holding her mug.

  “I’m sorry,” Allie says. “I did tell Dad. But not everything. He would have freaked.”

  “It wasn’t true anyhow,” I remind them. “Flynn is a good person.” I look at my mom then. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean—”

  “No,” she says, cutting me off. “It’s true. I’ve been neglecting you.”

  “But you have a reason,” I tell her.

  She sips her tea, standing very still, watching us closely. “I’m going to try,” she finally says. “Try harder. But, God, I need help.”

  “Oh, Mom,” I say. “Of course.”

  Allie jumps up and runs to Mom’s side. She’s so much better at things like this. Or she used to be. “I’ll be around more if you want.”

  Mom puts an arm around Allie and puts her tea down on the coffee table, and they walk to the couch and sit beside me.

  Allie looks as terrified as I feel. It’s scary to hope and scary to think this won’t last, this glimpse of old Mom. I don’t want her to disappear again.

  “What about Dad?” I ask.

  Mom sighs. “He’s having a hard time, you know. He doesn’t know how to fix me. He wants to fix all of us. Keep us safe. But he doesn’t know how, and it overwhelms him that he can’t. I think that’s why he’s been away so much.” It sounds like she’s thought about it before.

  “Control issues up the wazoo,” I mumble.

  “I’ll talk to him.” Her features have a long-forgotten fierceness.

  It’s kind of selfish, turning the conversation back to me, but it’s eating away at me. “Mom, Nance lied. I have no idea why.”

  “Nance is an idiot,” Allie says. “I don’t know why you hang out with her. Penny was always your best friend. You and Penny only put up with her because of Mom.”

  My eyes fill with tears.

  “What?” Allie asks.

  “I miss her. I messed up with Penny. A long time ago. I embarrassed her, said bad things about her,” I whisper. “And I never told her I was sorry. Not until a couple of days ago.”

  “Oh, Jess,” Allie says. “I didn’t know. Why?”

  I close my eyes. “I guess I didn’t want to deal with it.”

  Mom pats my back and then rubs in a circle. I twist my earring. “You two went through so much together when her dad was sick. You can give it another try, can’t you?”

  “Some things aren’t fixed by sorry,” I add. As the three of us sit quietly contemplating that, the doorbell rings. We all stare at the door, and then Allie makes a guilty face and jumps up and runs to it and peeks through the peephole.

  “Um, Jess.” She turns to me, her hand on the knob. “It’s for you. Don’t be mad, okay?”

  I frown and sit up taller.

  “When Nance called, all worried, the first thing I thought to do was call Penny. She’s here.” She turns back to the door and opens it. “Come in, Penny,” Allie tells her.

  Penny steps inside and sees red-eyed, blotchy faces on all three of us. “Um. What’s wrong?”

  “Family drama,” I tell her. “Don’t step any further if you want to stay out of it.”

  Penny closes the door behind her and steps inside.

  I get up and run at her, throwing my arms around her and hugging her tight.

  chapter twenty-three

  Penny comes to my room and sits on the bed. I sit across from her. She glances around. “I’ve missed this room. Talking with you.” She picks up one of my pillows and hugs it close.

  “Me too,” I tell her. “
I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you every day how sorry I am. But I was too scared.” I look down at my comforter. The purple is fading. “It got easier to avoid it. I’ve been such an asshole.”

  “Well, things were kind of messed up,” she says. “At home.”

  “You think?” I say and look up and smile. She moves so she’s leaning against my headboard. I sit beside her and we stretch our legs out. Wiggle our toes.

  “I don’t know how I’d handle things if it happened to me. To my mom,” she says without looking at me.

  “Well, you handled your dad’s illness with a lot more grace.”

  “We were younger,” she says.

  “Yeah. Well, you wouldn’t have gotten drunk and hooked up with Josh Reid.”

  She makes a face and sticks out her tongue. “Ugh. You’re right about that.” We both start laughing. It feels good. “Josh Reid,” she says and punches my arm.

  “Ugh,” I tell her. “He’s not that bad, you know. He’s kind of insecure with girls. Except when he drinks. Kind of like me and guys. Until I met Flynn.”

  “Really?” She tilts her head. “Huh.” Then she sticks out her tongue again. “But still. Ugh.” And then she smiles. “But what about Flynn? Your face lights up like a Christmas tree when you say his name.”

  I grin and then frown. “Nance lied about him, you know. To cause trouble.”

  “I’m gathering,” she says.

  “My dad doesn’t want me to see him.”

  “That sucks.”

  “I know. But he doesn’t know him. Flynn is an amazing guy.” I jump off the bed and go to my dresser. I smile at my plant book but pick up the carved monkey. “He made this for me.” She puts out her hand and I place it inside. “He made it because he noticed my sock monkey on my purse.”

  “Oh my God. That is so sweet.” She looks up. “Was it the one I gave you? Brave Monkey?”

  I smile. Almost true.

  “I still have Bill,” she says. “My sock monkey. The one you gave me when my dad was sick. The Protector.”

  We both laugh, and then I ask her a zillion questions about Keith, and she tells me and we giggle and squeal and giggle some more. There’s so much we have to say. But for the moment, we talk about boys, and it makes both of us happy. I can’t believe how much has happened in this one day. I’ve been on an emo roller coaster.

 

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