Chapter 29 #2
There had been rumors that Brentwood had been a lot different just four years ago.
That was why Mom had been praised so much for the zero-tolerance policy.
People said she cleaned up Brentwood, straightened the students’ acts.
I wouldn’t say she got rid of any social caste system—hello, Top Tier and the Most Likely Tos—but aside from Wes and his friends, there wasn’t much bullying. Not the blatant, just-for-fun kind.
“Days before it went into effect, everything with your brother went down.” Mom shook her head a little. “It was…bad timing.”
“So what?” I demanded, drawing in a breath. “So you let someone else take the heat for it? You blamed an innocent kid after he was attacked?”
“You won’t understand me,” she said, voice thin.
“Superintendent Filmore—Kyle’s father—was already putting things in motion.
Spreading that rumor. Kaia Shaw joined in.
I weighed my options—contradict them during my first few months of my elected term or agree with them and try to move past it.
I didn’t realize that boy would suffer from that choice. ”
I spoke through gritted teeth. “Hudson.”
She nodded. “Hudson. I didn’t realize Hudson would suffer. I didn’t think there would be long-lasting consequences. I put my son—myself—before another student, and it’s so far from okay. And that, Gemma, is why I’m resigning.”
I still didn’t quite understand. “Why now?”
“Because I thought about it all night, and I don’t want to be the villain in anyone’s stories.” Mom’s eyes softened for the first time in the whole conversation, and this time, I could see the little gleam to them. “Especially not yours.”
I drew in a breath to brace myself, but for some reason, her words still hit my chest hard all the same.
Mom glanced around the high school hallway.
“When you were growing up, we were close, you and me. I loved listening to the stories you came up with, seeing what clothes you put on your dolls, drawing with you. You used to love it when I braided your hair before bed. You’d beg me to use the strawberry-scented detangler, do you remember that?
Not the watermelon—only strawberry. And I loved that section of life together.
Raising you and your brother—it was the best. And I just wanted it to stay that way forever. ”
My throat swelled like I needed to cough, my own eyes beginning to sting. I looked down at my feet, at my ankle that still looked a little swollen, swallowing hard. “It’s not supposed to be that way forever.”
Mom chuckled a little sadly. “I see that now. I didn’t realize I wasn’t letting you grow up, Gemma.
I didn’t realize I was treating you like a little girl instead of a normal teenager.
I should’ve known. I knew you wanted your learner’s permit.
I knew you wanted a bit more independence.
I was so used to having you by my side, having you there to talk to.
I didn’t want to let you go.” Mom gave me a sad smile.
“But you’ve got your wings now. You aren’t old enough to fly out of the nest completely, of course, but you…
you should have the chance to test fly them once in a while, without caring what anyone thinks. ”
Now it was my turn to have tears spring to my eyes, because this was the response I’d been longing for, desperate for.
Even back to that day where I sat on the bridge, driver’s permit application in my hand, that was all I wanted to hear her say.
Morgan and Hudson were right. She was strict.
But despite how strict she was, of course I loved my mom.
I didn’t want to fight with her, just like I didn’t want her upset with me.
I didn’t want to do things against her, but I also knew that I couldn’t go back to the way things were.
And here she was, telling me that the way things were now could work toward becoming our new normal.
“I’m sorry that I made your decisions for you, that we got to this point,” she went on, taking a big sniff and swiping her fingers along the corners of her eyes.
Water glistened there, but she was quick to mop it up.
“I promise to be better about asking for your opinion on things, letting you make your own choices.”
“Like cut my hair.”
She pulled in a breath, the instant regret crossing her features.
But then it cleared, and I could see her actively work through the response.
“It’ll be hard,” she admitted, looking at my loose locks all around me.
“But yes. Even cut your hair, if that’s what you want.
As long as I can go with you to the appointment. ”
I gave Mom a watery smile, nodding. “Deal.”
Without another word, Mom wrapped her arms around my frame, and I settled into her embrace as I slowly returned the hug.
It might’ve been embarrassing that we were having this conversation in the high school hallway, where anyone could turn the corner and see me hugging my mom, but I couldn’t have cared less in that moment.
The steps we took in the right direction were huge, and it was a big difference from the place we’d been at forty-eight hours ago.
Mom squeezed me tighter, almost like she didn’t want to let me go. She reached up and smoothed her hand down my back. “I’ll…” She cleared her throat. “I’ll make sure Hudson gets cleared, okay? As my last act as school board president, I’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you,” I whispered back, sniffing. I didn’t realize how much it was a relief to have her on my side until she said it, and I let out a little sigh, relaxing even deeper in her embrace.
“You might be facing some consequences, though.” Mom pulled away to peer at my expression. “Bringing a weapon on school grounds—however unintentionally—there will need to be some consequences for you as well.”
“I don’t care,” I said immediately, shaking my head. “I’ll take whatever it is. Just as long as Hudson isn’t in trouble.”
She reached up and swiped her fingers against my cheeks, knocking the tears away. “I’ll make sure he’s okay. I promise. It seems…it seems I really misjudged him. You really like him?”
“More than anything,” I said confidently, but my heart squeezed. Because even though I finally won Mom over to my side, I knew where I’d left things with Hudson, and even with his name cleared, it didn’t change anything about us.
“I’ll look into making an appointment for your driver’s permit,” she went on. “I should’ve seen how badly you wanted it.”
A part of me felt half afraid to hope, but the bigger part—the part that’d been so excited to wake up on my birthday—smiled now, feeling weightless. “But you see now.”
“I do.” Mom slipped my hair over my shoulder, tucking it over my ear to expose my full expression. I was so used to her always pulling my braid over my shoulder, saying that I looked prettier that way, that I held perfectly still as she took in every drop of emotion in my eyes. “That I do.”
Yesterday, I’d been so afraid that we’d never come to this position. Because just like Mom felt, I was used to always having her at my side, too. I was used to having her to rely on. But she was also right—I had grown my wings. It was time to do some flying.
This time, though, I had her permission. I had her support. And that meant more than anything in the world.