Chapter 10 Avalon
ten
Avalon
Islept better than I’ve slept in years. Honestly, the last time I slept this well, my grandparents were still alive, and they died when I was in elementary school.
Most nights, I toss and turn, waiting to hear the front door so I know my mom’s home. But for some reason, I don’t remember waiting to hear the door last night. I don’t even remember getting up in the middle of the night to check on her.
It was nice to sleep without worrying about her.
But as I slowly wake up and take in my surroundings, I know why I never heard the door.
I’m not home.
“Shit.” I fly up, noticing a shirtless Zeke next to me.
I don’t even remember falling asleep last night.
I remember him offering to drive me home, and that’s it.
I also remember being very tired after our entertaining night together.
Still, I’ve never been tired enough to not leave before the morning.
I don’t do sleepovers—
Ever.
When I’m at my house, I kick them out right after I’ve gotten what I want, and when I’m at theirs, I always find a way to sneak out. Whether it’s when they run off to the bathroom or after they’ve fallen asleep, I always wake up in my own bed.
Zeke groans, rolling over, his arm landing across my bare legs, sending tingles through my body. The same tingles I got last night. The same tingles I’ve never gotten before.
Pull yourself together, Avalon.
I peel his arm off my legs and carefully remove myself from his bed. I notice the clock and hope it’s early enough that no one’s downstairs so I can sneak out unnoticed. If I’m lucky, they’re all very hungover and haven’t been able to pull themselves out of bed yet.
Zeke stirs again.
I run around his room to collect my clothes before he wakes up.
Because a morning after conversation feels a lot like strings… too much like strings.
I quietly close the door behind me, and as I head toward the stairs, I hear a shower running down the hall. Maybe I’m lucky, and they’re the only person awake. But once I reach the top of the stairs, I hear voices coming from downstairs.
That doesn’t mean I can’t still sneak out, though. If I’m quiet enough, maybe they won’t notice me. I walk down slowly, one step at a time. I don’t know how many people are down there yet, I can’t see them, but they’re still talking, so I don’t think they’ve heard me.
“I have a guest, too.”
“Brinley doesn’t count as a guest.” Brinley… Brin, that’s one of the girls with Jaxon last night. I guess I was right about the two of them. “She practically lives here.”
As he says that, my foot misses a step, causing me to slide down a couple of stairs and for one of my shoes to plummet down the remaining six.
So much for not making myself known.
I hop down the last few steps, and I’m met with four sets of eyes. One of the guys I remember from last night. He was playing beer pong with Jaxon and the two girls. Fletch.
They watch me like they’re waiting for me to say something. If I’m being honest, if no one was in the kitchen when I got down here, I was totally gonna steal some food, but there’s no way I’m going into their kitchen now. Not when it’s obvious that I’m trying to make a break for it.
So, I just smile. I don’t pick up my heel lying on the floor, but slide it on my foot instead and then follow it up by sliding on the other shoe.
And then I leave.
I’m lucky that Jaxon wasn’t one of the guys downstairs because I have to see him in class in a few days. And I don’t need Jaxon to know that Zeke slept with me last night if he shares any details of our rendezvous with his friends.
Once I’m out of the house, the door safely secured behind me, I take the opportunity to pull on my jeans. It’s not as cold as last night, but definitely not warm enough for me to walk home with bare legs.
I haven’t had a walk of shame since my junior year homecoming, and I never thought I’d have one again.
But here I am, walking home wearing what I was in yesterday, except now in his shirt and carrying my own.
And now, he has a reason to see me again. I have something of his. And even though it’s just a shirt, it’s something tying us together.
Like a string.
The walk back to my place wasn’t bad. Not many people were out on campus yet to see my walk of shame.
But I do hate the fact that I’m back here. Because if my mom’s home, we have to talk about what she did, and I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it. If I’m prepared for her to admit to stealing everything I worked so hard for.
Because even though she’s fucked up over and over, especially since my grandparents died, she’s still my mom.
Over the years, she put her shit aside on days she knew were important to me because she wanted to be there. Sure, I had to pay our bills and keep a roof over our heads, but I knew deep down she cared. She tried to be a better mom.
But now I can make excuses for her.
The house is messier than it was last night. Like she brought people into our home and let them have their way with it. And even though she’s the only person who remains, the evidence of those people still lingers.
She’s on the couch with god knows what coursing through her veins. It’s not uncommon for me to wake up or come home to her blacked out on our couch. Like her body couldn’t even carry her into her own bedroom because she put too much shit in it.
“Mami,” I shake her, trying to wake her up, “despiértate.”
She doesn’t budge.
“Mami!” I shake her again. “Fuck.” I tap her face to try and get a response. Honestly, she probably just blacked out, and her body hasn’t worked through the high yet.
But not only am I angry over what happened yesterday, I’m furious over the fact that all the proof I need for what she did is her blacked out in front of me.
I walk into the kitchen, grab a mixing bowl, and fill it with cold water. Usually, I just let it wear off. I’m used to this. I’m used to sitting in my room while I wait for her to come to. She’s breathing. Her chest rises and falls steadily, so I know she’s okay.
I carry the bowl over to her, and with no hesitation, I drench her.
This wakes her right up.
“Fueputa.” She quickly sits up and rubs her temples. “Avalon, ?cual es tu problema, nina?”
“Bueno, estas despierto.” I drop the bowl, and it echoes across the room.
“?Y esto?”
“You stole from me.” It’s all I say, and she closes her eyes like it’ll get rid of me. Or, like she didn’t think I’d figure it out.
“?Qué qué?”
“I’m not stupid, Mom.” I cross my arms. We rarely talk, but when we do, it’s usually a combination of the minimal Spanish my Abuela taught me before she passed and English. But it lets her know I'm serious when I don’t even attempt to use my Spanish.
She knows she fucked up.
But I don’t know if she even cares.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stands up, wobbling a bit, before regaining her composure. She walks into the kitchen, sticking her head under the faucet to get water.
“I’m pretty sure I’d remember sending you thousands of dollars.”
“I don’t have your money.”
“Spent all of it already?” My brow creases. “Are you fucking stupid, Mami? We need that money. Unless your disability checks are gonna actually start going to bills.”
“I don’t need you lecturing me, Avalon.” She rests against the counter. “If you haven’t realized, I’m the parent that stayed.”
“Are we seriously gonna turn back to that?” I laugh. “You can’t be the parent that stayed if you don’t fucking take care of your kid.”
“I’ve taken great care of you. I got you this far. You wouldn’t be here without me.”
“I am who I am because of myself. Sure, you put your shit aside to celebrate my accomplishments, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t seven years old, getting myself dressed and fed and walking to school by myself.
That doesn’t mean I wasn’t twelve, sitting in the shower with you after you had a little too much fun, and I was trying to make sure you were still alive. It doesn't mean—”
“So, I was a bad mom.” She throws her hands in the air, dramatically hitting her thighs on the way down. “And your father was this amazing man who cared for you and did fun things with you while I was making money for this family.”
“This isn’t about him!” I cry. “It’s about you. It’s about the amazing woman I looked up to as a kid. The woman who made a name for herself. The woman who was one of the best firefighters the world had ever seen and—”
“?Y qué? I threw it all away?”
“No, Mami,” I sigh. “You got hurt. You got hurt, and you let it take over your whole life. You lost your career, but I was still here.”
“I didn’t just lose my job, Avalon. I lost my leg!
I was wheelchair-bound for months. I was moments away from becoming the first female fire captain at Firehouse fifty-one, and one night changed that forever.
I lost my leg, then your dad, then my parents.
I lost everything. I don’t know what you wanted from me. ”
“I wanted to be enough, Mom, because in all that loss, you still had me. Through every fuck up and mistake, I was with you through it all.”
“I’m sorry that me losing my leg and all the pain that came with it after my accident ruined your life.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. She doesn’t get it. She’ll never get it. It’ll always be the victim card with her. For years, I let her get away with it. But now I’m standing across from the woman who stole thousands of dollars from me, and she’s finding a way to avoid taking the blame.
“No, Mami, lo siento,” I begin, and I’m sure a small smile pulls at the corner of her lips because she thinks she got her way again. But not this time. “I’m sorry it took me this long to realize I lost you a long time ago.”
The smile fades.
“I hope all that money was worth it because now you really have lost everything.”