Chapter 3 #2
After seeing how much he loved Mom, how he made her happy, and how gentle he was with her, I relented, and our relationship grew as well.
To hear Keith, bumbling drunk Keith, claim that he loved her after all he did…
I wanted to puke. His stupid, drunken rages were always directed at Mom.
She was his punching bag when he was in a violent mood.
He had drunk any money he made away, forcing Mom to have to start hiding it after working small jobs on the sly while he worked as a taxi driver.
After he got arrested for a DUI, Mom packed up our stuff while he had been locked up in the local jail for thirty days, and we moved into that old basement suite.
She filed for divorce and mailed it to him when he was in lock up, and then she got a job at the local supermarket.
We lived in that basement, just us two, until she met Matthew.
But those years living alone with her were the best of my life while we had lived in Harley.
And as much as I loved Nylah, the friendship I’d had with my three childhood friends had meant so much more to me than anything else I’d ever experienced.
And you might see them again…
I lounged on the second bus, gazing out the window as I got lost in my thoughts: Mom, Matthew, Keith Cooper, and the three boys.
What if they were gone? Dead? What if they weren’t?
Would they recognize me? Would I recognize them?
And if we did, would we have anything to say to each other?
We were different people now, for sure. Mostly though, I just wanted answers.
Why had they shut me out? Was there a reason, or were they just being assholes?
If it was the second, I felt a sting in my heart. I thought our friendship had run deeper than that. I thought it had been something worth savouring. I had to remind myself that it obviously wasn’t what I’d thought, or they wouldn’t have ghosted me all these years.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I missed my stop and quickly had to signal the driver to pull over at the next one.
It was only a couple of streets back, winding through the lavish gated community.
Mr. Bryant didn’t earn much money, but Nylah’s mom, Laila, was a successful artist who sold her work across the country.
Once she explained to me what it was exactly that she did, talking about different colours, brushes, something about lighting, and as much as I loved art, I couldn’t help but zone out after she hadn’t stopped for nearly ten minutes straight.
I just nodded and smiled as she went on for another twenty minutes talking about some artist friends of hers in Europe that I hadn’t heard of.
I glanced at Nylah, who even though she was watching her mother speak, I could recognize the glazed sort of look in her grey eyes as she attempted to be respectful toward her mother.
Clearly, she had mastered looking attentive while actually not paying attention at all.
I finally made it to their winding, stone driveway, leading me around a perfectly manicured yard to their house, which resembled a modern stone castle of sorts.
It was unusual but beautiful, and it had fit in perfectly with all the trees which blanketed the property, giving them privacy from the road.
I stopped about halfway up the drive. It’d been getting dark out, and the warm lights from the windows were casting a glow on the grass.
Inside, I knew that Laila was nearly done making supper, something she insisted upon doing almost every night unless she had a new series she was working on.
She was big on family time. Nylah’s dad was probably going through his old record collection, looking for something to play in the background while we ate, and Nylah was getting the table set, of course. Every night. A routine.
I could feel my heart clench as I thought about how similar it was for me at my house. Except Matthew was the one who enjoyed doing the cooking at night, while Mom set the table and I picked out music for a playlist to listen to. I would never have that again.
I sniffled, not realizing until that moment that I was silently crying as I stood there, staring up at a house with a happy family living inside.
All safe. All loved. In a few days, I was going to be torn away from them and thrown into a pit of snakes all over again.
Once kids at Harley Institute (really? Who names a high school that?) would hear I was from The Hill, it wouldn’t matter that I was originally one of them; it would start me off on the wrong foot.
It would just be a repeat of what I went through six years ago when I came here.
Only, kids from Harley were a whole different ball game.
I adapted to life here once Nylah befriended me. Would I be able to go back?
The cool, Autumn wind buffeted me, and I shivered. I couldn’t stay out here all night. This was one of the last authentic family dinners I was going to enjoy until… until… fuck, who knows? I had no family left; Keith doesn’t count. I was alone.
I pushed my emotions down, way, way down, wiped the tears from my cold cheeks, and marched up the rest of the way, my ears pricking once at the sound of a Harley Davidson disappearing into the distance.
Keith was too busy working on the day I was moving in with him, so Jackie McCuntface picked me up from the Bryants.
I had a hockey bag full of clothes, and two boxes of personal items, which she refused to help me load into the trunk of her station wagon.
Nylah stepped in, narrowing her eyes at the woman as she stomped by her.
As if Nylah was anything threatening. She was more like a beautiful-looking kitten when she was angry.
She bowed her head, her thick curls hiding her face from me as she carefully pushed one of my boxes way into the back to make room for my bag.
When she straightened, I saw her quickly wipe a tear off her cheek as she quickly turned away to grab the other box.
I could feel a slight sting in my eyes, too.
I was just better at hiding it. If I broke down in front of her, Nylah would become a puddle and would beg her dad to keep me here.
But right now, Mr. and Mrs. Bryant were talking with Ms. McNeedsToRemoveTheStickFromHerAss discreetly off to the side, and judging by how her parents were both glaring at the bitch, it’s a conversation I didn’t want to be a part of.
I lugged my bag of clothes and hoisted it onto the bumper before I started pushing it back, struggling against the weight.
In an instant, Nylah’s perfectly manicured hands appeared beside mine, and she helped me get it in.
Done, I closed the trunk and turned to her, only to see her grey eyes glimmering with tears she tried holding back.
Shit… I’m gonna break…
“Casey,” she whispered, her voice cracking a little.
“Shit, don’t, Ny…” I lowered my head, feeling like I was going to choke.
It felt like the universe had some sort of problem with me, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
Mom and Matthew’s lawyer told me I’d be inheriting the value of their estate, but that wouldn’t be until I was eighteen.
They had taken out life insurance policies, but again, I was still underage, so I wouldn’t see that money for over a year.
Their estate was to be sold, the money from the sale put into my inheritance which was held by Keith, who apparently would invest it for me, as Jackie claimed.
Until then, and until I was old enough, I had to play by the government’s rules.
Which meant leaving the last good thing I had in my life.
In a month, my whole world had been turned upside down.
Losing my mother, Matthew, my family home, and now my best friend.
She nodded furiously, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, and cleared her throat, “Right, I know. Toughen up, Nylah!” She laughed, but I could hear how forced it was.
Taking her hands in mine, I squeezed them as I looked up at her and gave her a small, shaky smile. “Thank you for incessantly pestering me all those years ago.”
She laughed for real this time, shaking her head as she pulled me in for a tight hug. “You were just so damn cute, scowling at everyone, like an angry kitten.”
Before I could argue against the picture she painted of me, she picked me up and swung me around like a rag doll, another habit that never died.
When she set me on my feet, I could hear the low heels of Ms. McMyPerfumeIsn’tHidingMyBOProblem as she walked around to the driver’s side of her car before she snapped, “Ms. Cooper, let’s get going!
I want to beat traffic.” Then, she climbed in, leaving me to say one last goodbye.
Mrs. Bryant pulled me away from her daughter, embracing me just as tightly. “You need anything, we are only a phone call away, alright?”
The concern in her voice choked me up, stealing my words away, so all I could do was nod in response. When she passed me off to her husband, he whispered, “If anything goes wrong, you have our number. You call me, alright? If I can’t get there in time, I’ll send a squad car to pick you up.”
“It’ll be okay, Mr. Bryant,” I said to him, trying to sound confident about the situation. I didn’t want them to worry. They’d done so much already. “Thank you for everything you guys have done for me.”
“Think nothing of it, hon.” He peeked over my head toward the car that was idling behind me, and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly before stepping back so that Nylah and I could have one last hug goodbye.
“You message me the moment you get in, alright?” she said, her voice anxious as we embraced.
“I will. But don’t worry about me. I grew up there, remember? I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Really, Ny, I’ll be okay. You worry about yourself.
I want to hear you’re giving basketball your all and that you’re kicking ass in all your classes.
You need to get into McGill.” I pulled back to fix her with a hard, stern stare, and she chuckled then hung her head, trying to hide the guilt on her face.
“Hey!” I snapped. She met my gaze, and I smiled at her, holding back my grief. “You were meant for great things.”
“So are you.”
Even though I didn’t believe her, I nodded anyway and pulled away, eager to get going.
This was like slowly pulling a band-aid off your arm, prolonged and painful.
I needed to just go. So I gave her hands one last squeeze, waved to her parents, who had moved back to their front door to give us some space, and climbed into the car.
I watched out the window as we drove away until we rounded the corner in the drive, and the trees blocked her from my view.
How long would it be until we were able to see each other again?