Thirty-Five
Thirty-Five
After dragging myself to the bathroom with all the vitality of a sloth and forcing myself to take a shower to make myself at least kind of presentable, I head down to the kitchen to assemble an impromptu lunch. I answer some concerned texts from Alex and reassure him after what happened last night. I should be more upset about Travis’s anger and the violent way he expressed it, but the truth—a truth I am not yet willing to admit to Alex—is that it’s Thomas’s leaving that really hurts. To distract myself, I spend the afternoon in the campus library studying, trying to catch up on my notes for various classes. I would be a colossal liar if I said I wasn’t hoping that Thomas might show up at any moment. I admit that part of me hopes I’ll pass him in the hallways, the cafeteria, or the gym, if only so I would know exactly where he is. Because, if I’m being realistic, right now as I’m walking the halls of the university and watching the endless downpour out the window like a desperate, pathetic loser, he could very well already be in someone else’s bed. A girl who’s willing to give him what I couldn’t. He’s probably kissing her right now, the same way he kissed me. Touching her like he touched me. He’ll be looking at her the same as he looked at me and he must be taking pleasure from her. With her. Owning her as he owned me. Oh, my God. The thought of it makes me sick to my stomach, and I crumple.
Suddenly, a shoulder slams forcefully into mine. I stagger and almost drop the coffee I was holding. I look up and see two blue eyes staring daggers at me: Shana.
“You little sewer rat, you oughta watch where you’re walking.”
“You’re the one who ran into me. On purpose, I might add,” I point out to her.
“Listen to her, ‘it was on purpose!’” She turns to her two friends, who giggle. With one hand resting on her cocked hip, she draws closer, invading my personal space. “If I ran into you, it’s only because you are constantly in my way.” Then her voice drops in pitch, her expression becoming more threatening. “You are a plague.” She points a finger into my chest. “A goddamn cockroach.” Each word is dripping with disgust. The force of her finger pressing on my chest makes me arch my back slightly and tilt my head.
“You crawl all over campus thinking you can just take what doesn’t belong to you. But maybe it’s time you remember who you really are: a poor loser, so insignificant you bored the one guy desperate enough to pick you. So stupid you believed that someone like Thomas could actually be interested in you.” She presses her finger even deeper into my chest, giving me a little push that makes me retreat a few inches further. Then she removes her hand and, with a self-satisfied expression, takes a step back to join her friends.
I straighten and adjust my shirt. I shouldn’t feel so humiliated by her words. Yet, they went through me like blades. Without realizing it, Shana has given voice to my biggest fears.
“What did I ever do to you, Shana?” I ask, doing my best to appear impassive.
For a moment, she seems surprised by the question. But then, with a flip of her hand, she moves her long, fiery red hair behind her shoulder. In a bored drawl, already turning her attention elsewhere, she replies, “You exist.” Then she takes her two friends by their arms and disappears with them down the corridor.
***
“I exist. Do you get that? Her problem is that I exist! I have never done her any wrong, yet she hates me that much! Can you believe that? My God, isn’t college supposed to be a place where students can focus all their energy on securing a better future for themselves? Then someone please explain to me why I keep meeting the most arrogant, obnoxious people to walk the earth!” I’m yelling so loudly into the phone glued to my ear that I attract the attention of some people walking by. They turn around to glare at me, but I ignore them and continue straight home.
“Are you done?”
I close my eyes, take a series of deep breaths to calm down before answering: “Yes, Alex. I’m done.”
“Nessy, I love you and you know I love you. But you should have guessed she was going to react like that. After all, you basically stole her favorite toy right out from under her nose. I don’t know a lot about women, but I think she would consider that reason enough to make you suffer.” What a bitch.
I snort. “I didn’t steal that toy from anyone.” I arrive in front of my driveway and roll my eyes when I see my mother’s car parked there.
“Alex, I have to let you go now. I’m going into the house.”
Alex advises me not to worry too much, and we say goodbye.
The moment I cross the threshold, the smell of garlic, tomato sauce, and freshly baked bread hits me. My mother is in the kitchen, intent on preparing dinner; I say a quick hello and, without lingering too much, start climbing the stairs to my room. “Vanessa, get back here. We need to talk.”
I stop on the second step and curse under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. Damn! I was really hoping to make good on my escape. I walk back to the kitchen and see her leaning on the sink, arms folded.
“Mom, I have a lot of stuff to study, I don’t have much time—”
“Let’s have a chat,” she says coldly, interrupting me.
I sigh and enter the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“What do you think? Do you think I’ve forgotten about that little scene from this morning?”
If only…
“Do we have to talk about this right now?” I gripe, resting my backpack on the floor.
“Yes, we do.” She invites me to sit at the table, pointing at it with the sauce-covered ladle in her hand. “Who in the hell was that lowlife?”
I let out another weary sigh, running my hand over my face. “His name is Thomas, he attends OSU, and he plays for the Beavers. Is that enough for you?”
She raises her eyebrows in warning. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. You asked me who he is and I’m telling you.”
She shakes her head, rests her ladle on the kitchen counter and brings a hand to her temple, as if trying to keep calm. “I knew that, sooner or later, this day would come.”
“What day are you talking about?”
“The day when you would allow a guy like that to come into your life. You are my daughter, after all, you come by that recklessness honestly. But it’s my fault. I’ve left you on your own for too long and now you’ve lost your way.”
My God, why does she always have to be so melodramatic?
“Mom, the only person who has lost her way here is you. You’re talking nonsense. You don’t even know him,” I blurt out. For the umpteenth time, I find myself defending Thomas even after he has ripped my heart to shreds. It’s as though some part of me can’t help but fight for him, like I can’t quite rid myself of this stupid blind faith in a boy as cynical as he is tormented.
“He’s rude, Vanessa, devoid of all good sense. No one has ever dared to speak to me like that before. He came into my house and disrespected me. How can you just accept that?” She sits across from me and stares me down.
I shrug nonchalantly. I know she’s partially right.
“Well, if we’re talking about disrespect, you did it too, Mom. You insulted him before you even knew his name. What did you expect him to do?”
“Are you justifying that kind of behavior, Vanessa?” she asks irritably. “My God, that boy is really changing you. Tell me, how long have you been seeing him?”
“That’s none of your business. What else did you want to tell me?” I gesture for her to continue with a wave of my hand.
“Well, I just wanted to make it clear that he will never set foot in my house again. Never again. Do we understand each other?”
“Whatever you want.” I can tell by the murderous look she gives me in response that she doesn’t at all appreciate my blasé approach to this conversation. But this time, I don’t care at all.
“One last thing,” she adds, “I want your word that you will stop seeing him.”
I laugh out loud and straighten up in my chair. “What?”
“I don’t know how long this has been going on, but I know for a fact that you’ve changed recently. And I’m sure that he’s responsible for it.”
“And you say this on the basis of what?”
“On the basis of you being my daughter and my knowing you. I worry about you. I only want the best for you, always.”
I snort. “You want the best for me?”
“Do you really think otherwise?” She presses her hand to her chest, as if I have stabbed her in the heart.
“I think that you love me but, most of the time, you just want me to be more like you.”
She blinks at me, astonished. “Don’t talk nonsense.” She gets up out of her chair with a jerk and goes to the stove, where she stirs the sauce aggressively.
“Nonsense? After I told you about my breakup with Travis, you didn’t talk to me for weeks. You defended him and condemned me. You blamed me for having the courage to end a relationship that was only hurting me, and do you know why? Because you never made the effort to look past the end of your own nose. If you had, you would have seen all the times he made me feel small and insignificant, when he shamed and humiliated me. As we speak, there’s a bruise on my left shoulder that I could have gladly done without. Do you know who gave it to me? Your dear, precious, irreproachable Travis. He got drunk last night and lost it. And do you know who defended me? Thomas.” I get up and join her at the stove. “Have you ever done that, Mom? Have you ever defended me?”
Disconcerted by my words, she is clearly surprised. “What do you mean, you have a bruise on your shoulder? Why didn’t you tell me?” She grabs my arms and turns me around.
“Because it wouldn’t have mattered. You would have found some way to justify it.” I wrench myself out of her grip.
Her eyes grow wide. “How can you say such a thing? I’m your mother! If someone hurts you, I need to know!” she cries out.
“That’s just the thing, Mom. Travis has hurt me many times, emotionally. Yet even after we broke up, I’m still the one in the wrong as far as you’re concerned. Now, you want to warn me away from Thomas, thinking you know everything. But the truth is, you don’t know anything!” I turn my back to her and stalk back to the chair where I had been sitting, picking up my bag and preparing to leave the kitchen. But she keeps talking.
“Maybe you’re right and I don’t know anything about him. But it only took me five seconds to see the kind of guy he is. So I’ll tell you again: I don’t want that person to be a part of your life,” she orders.
“I’m almost twenty years old, Mom. I can do what I want.”
“Not as long as you live under my roof,” she spits out angrily. I look at her, reducing my eyes to two slits, trying to figure out if she’s really implying what I think she’s implying. “Remember that everything you have, you have because of me. And you know the sacrifices I’ve made for you. But I can take everything away, Vanessa. Do you really want to go that far, all for an insignificant little boy who will leave you the moment he finds something better?”
“Would you really do that?”
“If it would make you do that right thing, I would absolutely do it. Even if it made you hate me.”
“Are you joking?” My blood boils.
“Not at all.”
I shake my head in bewilderment. “You can’t impose yourself on my life like this.”
“I am your mother, Vanessa. I’ll do what I think is best. This conversation is over. You can go.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. She turns her back on me and focuses on the stove.
“I like him, Mom!” I cry. Only after the words come out of me do I realize what I’ve just said.
“Yes, Vanessa, I noticed that!” She turns away, her lips a thin, angry line. “And that is exactly why I find myself compelled to take drastic action. The feelings you have are clouding your judgment; they cause you to make bad choices. I will not allow that to happen. You are young. And guys like him always bring problems and sorrows. I understand that at your age it can be fascinating, but sooner or later, he’s going to feel entitled to offload his troubles on you. And, by then, you’ll be too much in love to stop him. Don’t believe me? I’ve had a Thomas of my own before, and I guarantee you that the love you feel for him will push you to make so many mistakes. It will consume you, annihilate you, and take away every last good thing you have inside you. Until one fine day you will wake up and realize that you’ve spent the best years of your life chasing after someone who never, ever intended to stay. And at that point, it’ll be just you with your broken dreams and your mistakes which you will have to live with for the rest of your life.” There is a tremor in her voice. It’s barely perceptible, but it leaves me completely confused.
As far as I have ever known, my mother had always been with thoroughly respectable men. I am surprised by all the regret and anguish I can hear in her voice.
“I-I don’t understand what you’re talking about. None of that is going to happen to me because I’m not in love with him,” I explain to her in a softened tone.
“Yet, my just mentioning him was enough to make you fly into a rage. That says a lot about the feelings you pretend not to have.”
My reaction has me confused as well. After what Thomas said to me, a smart person would just listen to my mother. Still, just the idea of not having him in my life anymore makes me feel like I can’t breathe.
“It’s not up to you to decide who I can or cannot date. It’s unfair,” I say in a near-whisper.
“I’m sorry, but as long as you live under my roof, I will be the one to decide. And I have decided that you won’t see that boy again. Or you will suffer the consequences.”