Chapter 6 Saylor
Saylor
I wouldn’t recommend breaking your arm because it absolutely sucks.
I also don’t recommend having an influencer for a mother.
The last two days have been a mixed bag of emotions I never wanted to experience.
My friends are all gone and I miss them like crazy.
People keep tagging my private accounts and sending me the video Mom made about me being gay, giving me crap for it, making fun of my mom for crying and putting my business out there, asking if I’m really gay or if my mom just said that for views.
Personally, I want to have my mom arrested for emotional distress, but then she made me my favorite low-budget mac and cheese and helped me shower and wash my hair, so I can’t really call CPS on her, but boy do I want to.
Dad keeps reassuring me in his monotone way that I’m just lucky the injury was a clean break and not a compound fracture. I mean I guess, but some of Mom’s followers seem to think that I broke my arm because I’m gay so maybe things are bad enough right now.
Did I mention how much I miss my friends?
? They’ve called and texted me. Glory and our other bestie-bestie Tatum had flowers sent to the house, which was super sweet.
Tatum’s girlfriend Emily sent me a cute video from her grandparents’ RV telling me to rest up so we can crush it come soccer season.
And Bethany sent her moms over to check on me.
Melissa and Teresa spent most of their time talking to Mom about what the doctors said and the rest of the time catching up on their mom gossip, but it was still nice to see them.
Heck, I even miss my sisters. Scarlett and Stella are pains in my butt, but they are usually nice to me when I’m sick, and I’m sure I could make them wait on me a little while also distracting Mom.
They’ve called me once from camp to see if I’m okay, but I have almost a month before they get back.
Until then—at least during the day—it’s me, Mom, and all the content creation.
I’m trying to get comfortable on the couch so I can catch up on Love Island USA and UK when Mom comes strolling in.
Luckily, she already made a video this morning and has to spend the rest of the day editing, so she’s just been popping in to check on me and ask forty questions about which Islander is which.
“I’m going to the store, come with me. You can pick out some snacks,” Mom says.
She’s dressed in an artfully baggy linen shirt and khaki shorts.
Her makeup is still done from filming earlier.
I look down at my Bee & Bonnet pajama set, #Ad.
It’s cute, but I can’t step out into the world like this.
Sad, broken, and in my jammies. On the screen, two girls are on the daybeds, arguing over the most unfortunate looking boy.
It seems like a good time to take a Love Island break.
“Just give me two hours to change.” I groan as I sit up.
“Do you need help?”
“No, I think I can manage it. I’ll yell if I need a hand.”
I make my way upstairs and successfully change into a T-shirt and some shorts. Getting the top button done with my cast on takes some finesse and deep breathing, but I get it done. I do need Mom to help fix my hair that’s been smushed by a few hours of couch lounging, but then we’re off.
“Have you heard from Rhys?” Mom asks as we make our way down the hill toward Overland.
“No. Why?” Rhys took our breakup well, but my parents loved him, and he loved my parents. He didn’t mind partaking in all my mom’s reaction videos and photoshoots. But we aren’t together anymore for one very obvious reason.
“He liked one of the posts I made about your arm, so I figured he’d check on you.”
“I mean, I did dump him. He might not want to chat. We don’t need to. Besides, he’ll do that sweet thing where he asks me ninety questions, making sure I’m okay and I’ll end up comforting him,” I snap.
“Oh,” Mom says in that oop, I’ve poked the bear tone.
I roll my eyes and look out the window, watching the trees and the gated apartment communities off Jefferson go by.
What must it be like to be there out among the people, enjoying life.
People heading toward the dog park, the skate ramps.
People on their own and groups making their way up the Culver Steps. What it must be like to be so free.
I see a couple heading toward the park and think of the one person I wish would reach out to me.
I’d love to hear from Heaven Goo-Campbell.
In a shocking twist, she’d text me all on her own, because she’s super worried about me.
She’d ask if my arm is okay and then ask me if she can come over.
She’d be totally fine with watching one hundred episodes of Love Island, but before I press play, she’d ask me if she can be my first girlfriend, and then we’d kiss, and my arm would magically heal. That’s the connection I really need.
The Whole Foods in Palms is old news, so we head to the new one over on La Cienega. I follow Mom inside, dodging an older man with his giant doodle mix.
“Okay, what do you want, my Saylor baby?”
“A slice of pizza and a whole cake. And one of those three-pound bags of cherries.” Nothing needs to make sense right now.
Mom laughs as she grabs a cart. “Go scope out the pizza and pick out your cake. I won’t be long.”
“I’m gonna get the biggest cake they have.
You’ll see.” I leave my mom by the produce section and weave my way past the checkout.
When I get over to the pizza, I almost grab for one of the slice boxes, but my cast bumps the little edge on the shelf and I think about everyone buzzing around the hot bar and the deli counter seeing me cry as I drop half a hot pizza on the ground.
I’m gonna need Mom’s help with this one.
I mentally decide which slice of pizza I want and then head over to the cakes.
I’m almost by this group of guys crowding around the sandwich counter when I see some familiar faces rounding the cheese display.
If I had known I’d be running into my dentist and the girl of my dreams, I would have put on some lip gloss or a hint of mascara before I left the house.
Or maybe done a full beat to cover my road rash face and put on a prom dress.
It’s too late now, though. Dr. G spots me with a smile and wave.
I smile back and make my way over. Dr. G is the best dentist in the world.
She was so nice to me when I cried before my first filling.
It almost doesn’t make sense that Heaven, who is the opposite of bright and friendly, is her daughter.
The object of my deepest heart’s desire.
Just seeing her steals my breath away. I truly need help.
“Hi,” I say, focusing on Dr. G and not at all on how cute Heaven looks. It’s five million degrees out and she’s in a black crop T-shirt and a baggy pair of khakis. The matching black Vans pull it all together. It’s not my style, but it works so well for her.
“Oh, Saylor,” Dr. G says, holding out her arm for me. I step into her gentle one-armed hug as she lowers her voice. “I saw your mom’s post. Is it okay to say Happy Pride?”
“I will definitely accept a Happy Pride from you. Thanks,” I say, not even trying to hide my smile.
“How are you feeling otherwise? You got pretty banged up.”
“I’m okay. My dad told me to tell everyone, ‘You should see the other guy.’ ”
“A classic.” Dr. G laughs, and then there’s this super-awkward beat where she glances over at Heaven, who is looking at me like she wants the earthquake of the century to hit this Whole Foods and end this conversation.
“Hey, Heaven,” I say.
“Hey,” she mumbles before she nods toward my face. “Was the other guy a mountain lion?”
I laugh and then want to die a little more because it comes out sounding like a bird noise.
When she wants to be, Heaven is pretty funny, but again, she doesn’t like me or other humans so it’s not like we get to enjoy it.
“I tripped over my own feet playing basketball and ran face-first into a chain-link fence. My arm only kinda broke my fall.”
“Brutal.”
“Are you doing okay?” Dr. G asks, genuinely concerned.
“I’ve been better—”
“Maurene!” I turn and see Mom just past the lady who is handing out hummus samples.
“Hi, Cris!” Dr. G says and then they do the whole mom “I haven’t seen you since the last thing our kids forced us both to be at” dance. I smile and try to ignore the way Heaven is looking everywhere but at the three of us. “I was just asking Saylor how she’s doing.”
“She’s been such a good sport, and luckily none of her teeth got knocked out so I didn’t have to call you.
” Mom laughs and moves to touch my face like it’s not covered in fence burn.
I jerk my head back on reflex and apparently that’s funny to Heaven because she snorts.
Jokes on her because now she has Cristine Ford’s undivided attention.
“How’s your summer going, Heaven?”
“Well, thank you,” she mutters back.
“Got any big plans? We had to cancel all of Saylor’s so she could heal and rest up.”
“Oh. That sucks—stinks,” Heaven mumbles. Does she know this shy thing she has going on is the cutest thing in the world? Would it be a good idea for me to tell her?
“Heaven’s doing a summer bingo challenge her dad put together.
Tasks around town, some fun activities at home, and there’ll be a nice prize at the end.
Her dad is very proud of the board he made in Canva.
” Dr. G laughs. She reaches over and touches Heaven’s edges, which along with her ever-present low bun, are slicked back into last week with a ton of gel.
It’s her signature style, but it looks tight and painful, yet still good.
“Oh, that sounds like so much fun,” Mom says, looking over at me.
“That does sound cool,” I agree. “Definitely beats sitting on the couch all day. I can’t swim, can’t play any sports. I can’t even drive myself around.” Stupid cast.
“You know what? Would you mind if Saylor tags along, Heaven?” my mom asks, like she’s lost her whole mind. I look over at her, my head almost turning in slow motion. The absolute mortification I feel, I immediately pass away.
“Mom, you can’t just ask someone to let me join their summer plans,” I say.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mom cringes, looking between Dr. G and Heaven. “I got a little ahead of myself.”
“It’s okay,” Dr. G says. “Even I stay out of the bingo. Her dad is the mastermind. Maybe Saylor can come over sometime and you two can hang out.” No one on earth can miss the way Heaven looks at her mom then.
There’s a split second where I feel like we’re bonding, both blindsided by the way our moms are completely ignoring all acceptable social cues.
Yes, I would love to just hang out with Heaven.
Just spend an afternoon staring at her face.
But I have a raging crush that I clearly need to speak to a therapist about.
No one in this conversation or this whole Whole Foods thinks Heaven actually wants to spend time with me.
Heaven swallows and glances over at me and my mom before she gives a tense nod. “Yeah, that would be cool,” she says, her voice quivering. “I’ll, uh—I’ll message you or something.”
“Great,” Mom says. Dr. G nods in agreement, and I think Heaven and I both want to disappear into the floor for very different reasons.
I silently vow to DM Heaven as soon as I get home to let her off the hook.
Even if I wish she was madly in love with me, a mom-established playdate is not the vibe.
Mom and Dr. G talk for a few more minutes.
We go our separate ways, and luckily we don’t run into them again before we make it to the checkout.
When we get back in the car, I remember what Dr. G said, that she saw my mom’s video. I can’t help but wonder if Heaven saw it too. If she even cares that I’m queer too. Of course she doesn’t. Why would she?
“Mom, can I ask you something?” I say as we drive past the Culver Steps again.
“Sure, honey.”
“Why did you make that post about me coming out?”
“What do you mean? ’Cause I love you and I am proud of you. And our family,” she says, and I take a deep breath as I can hear in her voice the tears starting to gather.
“Don’t cry, Mom.”
She laughs. “I’m sorry. I just love you girls so much. And I’m happy that you were comfortable enough to tell me and your dad. I think I have the best kids in the world, and I should celebrate that.”
I nod, biting the inside of my lip. I want to ask her if she cares about the mean things people are saying about me, about her and my dad in her comments.
I want to tell her how it feels to see people say they don’t know if my little sisters are safe around me anymore.
I want to tell her how embarrassing it is that my dentist and my crush know that I’m gay now and I had no control over how they found out.
But I really, really don’t want my mom to start crying.
“Now we just gotta find you a girlfriend,” Mom says, her voice all cheery again.
I almost open the car door and roll out into traffic.