Mac
ELEVEN
I should have walked away. I should have just left her to choke on her own vomit. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking walk away. Not when I couldn’t tell if she was dead.
Because…she’s my mom.
But she’s also the woman who spent food money on drugs. Who never cared if I was hungry or scared. The woman who would use me as a shield against Dave. Who told me to suck it up whenever Dave hit me. She never kissed away my pain. Never sang lullabies after a nightmare.
She’s never been a mom. Why couldn’t I walk away?
She only stepped up once, when Dave almost burnt down our trailer after he thought he could start cooking meth.
Another great idea to earn easy money, he had said.
I was eleven or twelve. Mom grabbed me in the middle of the night, and we ran.
We spent the night at a bus station in town, curled up on a bench until Dave found us the next morning.
Dave begged her to come back. Dropped promises and swore shit would get better.
“I’m sorry, Karen. You have to believe me.
You have to know I can do better.” The lies fell from his lips with such ease.
Even though I was young, I knew it was all a show.
I wanted to shake my mom, tell her that it’s all bullshit.
But I had my own selfish reason for wanting to go back.
The thought of leaving Sage made me want to believe Dave’s words. So, I kept my mouth shut.
She always ate up his bullshit, anyway. Slurred promises that were worth less than dirt. But she believed them all. Or maybe she was scared where her next hit would come from. In the end, it didn’t matter, we always stayed. No matter what Dave did, or how bad he hurt us, we stayed.
“You want to talk about it?” Sage asks, and it sounds physically painful for him. Somehow, we made it to Earl’s, sitting at our regular table in the back. The walk here is as blurry as parts of last night. Just dazed and numb as I move on autopilot.
I’m twenty-two years old. Why do I let my parents still hurt me? I should be past the point of caring if they say hateful things, past the physical pain they always cause me.
Sage watches me from across the table, nervously cracking his knuckles over and over again. His brown eyes are filled with concern. It’s a look he’s given me a lot over the years. Scared that this is the time my parents pushed me too far. But I’m not about to break, not by Karen’s hands.
Dave’s parenting style was to shatter and destroy. My mom is more like a dent in a windshield—over time the small nick spreads with spiderwebs of broken glass until it covers the entire pane of glass.
“Nope,” I finally answer his question, and he looks relieved to hear it. He lets out a gust of air as he leans back in his seat.
I just need to let it go. Cut a vein and release the blood that binds me to them. Scrub away the rot their words left behind. I roll my shoulders and finally take in the familiar sights.
Earl’s looks the same as it always did. Just rows of tables of different types. Earl’s has been raided and shut down a few times over the years, but like a cockroach, it always pops back up. The familiar smell of grease, eggs, and burnt toast is a welcome reprieve.
My head is a mess. It’s hard to believe that just over two weeks ago, I was in my apartment, chasing men just to feel less alone, less lost. But now, I’m back. And it’s been one thing after another.
Not all bad, obviously. But just a lot. I haven’t gotten my thoughts organized.
Or asked the questions I should. What happened to Mom?
Where is Dave? Sage keeps telling me Dave will never come back, but I can’t believe that.
The only way for Dave to stop being a threat is if he’s dead. And boogeymen never die.
I cast nervous glances around the diner, cataloging every face, every threat.
Like always, I sit facing the front door.
A preservation technique after Dave tried to jump me for money here.
Earl kicked him out, threatening him with a bat he keeps behind the cash register.
I’m safe here. Even if Dave does come back, he wouldn’t come here.
But after seeing Mom, my fear is ascending higher and higher. My hands shake on the table. I fist them to force the trembling to stop. I already faced one monster from my past; it’s only a matter of time until I face another.
“He’s not coming back, Mac. You’re safe.” Sage reads my fear easily, knowing where my mind went—not that it’s a hard conclusion to jump to.
I just want to go back to this morning, better yet, last night.
My eyes dip to Sage’s lips. He kissed me.
I stare at his mouth like I can see the evidence written on them.
Said lips tip up into a smirk, no doubt seeing me stare at his mouth.
Or maybe he’s just happy to change the subject from parental trauma.
We’ve had enough conversations about that in the past. It just seems repetitive now.
“So we—”
“Mac!” Luna calling my name jerks my attention away.
My whole body tenses, readying for a fight Sage promises will never come.
When Luna’s beaming smile comes into view, I settle back into my chair.
Sage looks at me with that same cautious look.
Luckily, Luna’s arrival stops me from saying anything fucking stupid. Like we should leave and kiss again.
No better way to get over something than getting under someone else. Pretty sure that’s how the saying goes.
Luna skips over to our table, blue hair braided down the sides of her head, wearing a baggy hoodie with possibly no pants. Her Vans are untied, the laces jumping around with each skip. How is she so hyper? She drank just as much as I did last night. Damn pixie magic.
“Surprised to see you guys. Figured you’d be balls deep in…well, each other.” She laughs at her own joke. Sage just glares at her like he did last night. I refuse to blush; we kissed in front of pretty much everyone, and I refuse to feel any shame about that.
Pushing down the fear that Dave will find out, I force a smile on my face.
I’ve always been good at pretending everything is ok.
Only Sage seems to be able to pull my real feelings up to the surface.
All our other friends get masks, the fake smiles and forced confidence.
I fall back into the lie happily. It’s easier than addressing how messed up my head is.
“Well, it’s tradition. Get fucked up then continue making poor life choices by eating at Earl’s. Kissing can’t stop traditions.” I wink at Sage, but he’s way too busy glaring to notice.
“Ease up, Sage. I was only helping progress. You should be thanking me, not trying to mean mug me away.” Luna rolls her eyes, pulling up the chair next to Sage and dropping down into it.
“Wait, what?” I ask the smirking, blue-haired devil.
“Even sober you boys are idiots. So glad I don’t fuck with dick.” Another eye roll. “It’s amazing humanity has survived with men in the equation. How does anything get done?”
“Luna, darling. Fuck off,” Sage says not unkindly, but with more force than necessary. This is Luna, after all.
“He’s just grumpy,” I say, but I’m looking at Sage. His eyes glare at the side of Luna’s face. I try to shoot him a look that says back off, man but he ignores me.
Luna has been our friend since the fifth grade. She grew up like we did but doesn’t let it get to her. She’s unapologetically herself, and I love her for that. Although there have been times I’d wish she kept her thoughts to herself.
I never came out to Luna, not even after she did. But she knew. She sees more than she should. Catching my wandering eye too often.
A week before Dave attacked me flashes in my head. The night Luna figured out what I tried to hide.
My lungs seize up and I cough out the smoke I held hostage. The earthy, skunky taste of shit weed plummets out of my mouth in a thick cloud. Sage slaps my back and jokes. “Cough to get off, man.” I sputter and hack some more, trying to catch my breath, all while shooting Sage death glares.
Once I get enough oxygen, I set Luna’s bong down onto the table. My mind already feels hazy and disoriented, fogging out the shit day I had. It’s getting harder to keep my secret from Sage. Harder to keep my eyes from betraying me and cueing him in.
Shit. Maybe getting high was a bad idea.
I slump back into the couch. Luna’s trailer is filled with the pungent smell of weed, the air thick with it.
I swallow; I swallow again as cotton grows on my tongue.
I turn towards Sage on the couch, but he is already climbing over the back and following Levi into the kitchen.
Both are lost in a conversation I can’t keep track of.
Luna is quick to take his spot, smiling at me in a way that tells me I’m not gonna like what comes out of her mouth next.
I cast one last look at Sage before turning away.
“Why are you looking at him like that?” she asks quietly, whispering under the sound of the music and my now rapid heartbeat.
She knows. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Abort. Panicked alarms start to ring in my head.
Telling me this is what I’ve been dreading.
This is the moment I’m called out and forced to confess all my sins.
And I’m too stoned to get my thoughts in order.
“I’m not,” I reply, knowing it’s the wrong response the second the words leave my dry-ass mouth. My eyes move back to Sage in the kitchen on their own. Luna stares into my soul and finds whatever she searched for—if her devious smile is any indication.
“Holy shit, Mac. Are you gay?” Her whisper sounds like a shout. My eyes automatically scan around the room, bouncing from everyone to Sage to Luna, and repeating the process again. Did anyone hear her? It feels like my blood has frozen over as a cold wave of fear makes my head spin.
“What? No?” I tell her quickly, clearing my throat. “No. Why are you asking me that?” I force myself not to look over at Sage again. I curse my panic for making me sound guilty. Her demonic smirk falters into something I hate more. Her smile falls and is replaced by a tight-lipped frown.
“You know you could tell me if you were, right?” she asks, moving her hand to rest on my bouncing leg. I stop immediately. Acting guilty will only prove her right. Shit. Why did I take that last hit? I lick my lips and regret everything that led me to this couch.
“I’m not!” I feel like I shouted that—scratch that, I did. Luna flinches backward, her hand moving from my leg. “I’m not, ok? Just…” another anxious look into the kitchen, “just drop it,” I hiss. The words barely slip between my clenched teeth.
Luna always says whatever is on her mind. But right now, I need her to fucking not. I need her to read the room for once and not word-vomit all over me. Seconds tick by, and her silence sits heavier than her accusation. Her kind and empathetic look makes me want to rip out of my skin.
“Why don’t you tell me why you look at Lizzy like you do?
” I ask accusingly, crossing my arms over my chest. Later I’ll feel guilty for throwing that in her face, but right now, I need her to drop it.
I need her to stop looking at me like she understands.
She knows my secret, and I’m terrified of what that means.
“Speaking of progress,” I start, pretending to look at the laminated menu. Returning to that night giving me just the thing to turn the tables on her. “How’s Lizzy?”
With a dreamy sigh she’s not ashamed of, she answers, “Lizzy is great. Fantastic. Fucking flawless. Well that’s not true—her new K-Pop obsession is problematic.
” Sage laughs at that, the scowl temporarily forgotten.
Luckily, Luna took the bait. Our midnight kiss on the is dock forgotten. It was as easy as it was then.
“Is it problematic because you aren’t a Korean man with a six pack?” Sage asks, dropping his chin in his hand and looking at her with faux interest.
I’m hit with a pang of longing. Missing a moment that I’m still in.
I missed this. I missed the way we used to tease each other. The way we’d make our lives feel bigger whenever we were together. All the bullshit that came with our lives brushed aside. I missed it so much, even if it does come with a side order of parental drama.
“Yes!” she shrieks, drawing a few eyes of the other patrons.
“How can I compete with that? I mean, some of them look like pretty girls with no tits but come on. Life is so unfair. God has favorites.” Luna pulls her feet up onto the chair, hugging her slender legs to her chest. Sage laughs and pats her back.
Like always, our conversation jumps around after that. No more meddling or kissing talk. Earl stops by and talks for a bit before taking our orders. Everything falls back into place. I almost forget about the interaction with Karen. Almost stop scanning for signs of Dave or his lackey friends.