Chapter 18
There was a time in my life when I was excited at the sight of my mom in the bleachers watching me stand on the starting blocks with her knuckles pressed to her mouth.
She used to get nervous in the beginning, but then I started to win a lot.
After a few years, she quit standing for my starts.
And soon after, she stopped showing up at all.
I’m not sure how to classify the expression she’s wearing now. It’s somewhere between resentful and disappointed, I think. Wait until I break the news about applying to the social work program instead of the business school.
“I think it’s great that you swim with the girls. It really motivates them. You know, they look up to you.”
I’m not sure if my boss, Christen, is being honest or simply trying to butter me up so I don’t quit this summer.
It’s not like I have another job waiting in the wings.
Plus, I kind of like working with younger swimmers.
I like teaching them things and rooting for their wins, however big or small.
We have a meet coming up next week, and I’m a little nervous for them.
Like, giddy nervous. Not the anxious type that usually sits heavy in my stomach.
I lift myself from the pool, then slide my goggles up my head, my tight swim cap muting the background noise.
Christen hands me my towel as I turn my back to my mother, who has moved toward the entrance.
She’s leaning against one of the ticket booths, typing things on her phone.
It’s her way of subtly rushing me. I don’t need to see it.
“I was thinking of getting the girls pizza or something after Friday’s practice, for team bonding. They’ve been working hard.” I hold my breath, waiting for Christen to approve it, and hopefully offer to pay for it.
“That’s a great idea, Saylor. They’ll love it!” She pats my shoulder as she moves toward the office. At least I got half of what I wanted—permission.
I pull my cap from my head and run my fingers through my wet hair as I turn to face my mom.
I hold up a finger, and she winds hers in the air, another sign to hurry up.
She didn’t love hearing that my car was at Rowan’s garage.
It’s all she talked about—my car. Not a word about me being in his car or kissing him.
Her silence on the topic speaks volumes, though.
I’m tempted to stay in this locker room until they lock up for the night, but the hot water from the shower is already turning me into a prune, so after running the comb through my hair and slipping into my linen shorts and tank top, I make my way out to the parking lot, where my mom is now waiting in her running SUV.
“I know we planned to get dinner, but if we go to the dealership now, we can pick up your rental.” She shifts into drive before I can answer, but eventually the dinging of the passenger seatbelt alert gets her attention. She stops at the swim club’s exit with her blinker on.
“Saylor, put on your seatbelt.”
“Uh, I will when we discuss this rental car that I’m suddenly getting? Who’s paying for that?” I know she’s not, and she knows I can’t.
“David takes care of his employees. It’s nothing,” she says, waving a hand at me. “Now stop being a child.”
“Mom, I haven’t been a child for a long time. We don’t need David to get me a car!”
“It’s only a rental,” she sighs.
I shake my head and tilt my head, glaring at her as she tries to look away.
“Yeah? Where’s that rental from? Mercedes? Lexus?” I know it’s something luxury. David wouldn’t want to be connected to anything distasteful.
“It’s a BMW. Like Caleb’s,” she finally admits.
I laugh hard and shake my head.
“Absolutely not. I don’t want a BMW, Mom. I don’t need it. My car is going to be ready in a few days, and I can get by—”
“You expect me to just drive you around?” Her wide eyes are glued open, locked on mine, and I’m left nearly speechless.
“It was one shift. I’ll walk tomorrow, or hell, just let me out here, and I’ll find some cardboard and sleep behind the dumpster so I’m ready for tomorrow’s shift.
Jesus!” I move to turn my head away, but before I can, my mom’s palm lands across my cheek.
I cover the hot spot with my own hand and blink my vision back in focus.
“I’m so sorry. Saylor, I—”
I exit the car and slam the door behind me as I march down the sidewalk with no destination in mind. All I know is I can’t be here, and I won’t get in that car. My mom idles alongside me, though, with the window down.
“Saylor, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so stressed. And your car not working has me on edge about sending you up north in a few months. I want to get you a new one, but it’s not in the budget right now.”
I laugh out without shifting my gaze to her sixty-thousand-dollar vehicle, keeping pace with me.
The matte finish of the dark green, the charcoal rims and lift kit for all that off-roading my mom will never do.
I know how much those payments are. All so she can fit in with that boy’s club. I hope it’s worth it.
I halt my steps, and my mom punches her brakes to stop with me, flinging herself forward along with her purse and phone.
I can see her eyes ticking as she glances to her feet where I’m sure her purse has spilled out lipsticks, pens and business cards by the pedals.
I walk toward the open window, and my mom reaches toward the handle on the inside, but I press my body against the door before she can push it open.
“I’m not getting in that car with you. Not until you tell me the real reason you’re so angry with me.”
Her expression begins to morph into a fake apology, but before she can enact her next performance, she exhales, “Fine.” Her gaze drops to her lap as she blinks before popping her attention back to me.
“You’re ruining your life. With Rowan. He’s bad for you, and it doesn’t look good for you that you’re doing . . . whatever you’re doing with him.” Her mouth rests in a stern, straight line.
I start to laugh almost immediately. If she only knew the things I was doing with Rowan. She’d try to have me committed, I’m sure. But Rowan isn’t the one she should be worrying about.
“Did Caleb tell you something about Rowan? Did he say he was worried about me?” I scrunch my nose with distaste. I have a feeling Caleb’s in my mom’s head with this, not fully, but at least he’s a sous chef to her assumptions.
“He has not, other than expressing his regret for how you two broke up,” she explains.
I laugh again.
“How he broke up with me, you mean. So he could fuck other girls.”
“Saylor!” My mom doesn’t like swear words. I wonder what she was like when she was my age sometimes, if she was proper even then.
I glance to my right, to the roadway ahead, and the few stragglers from my class still walking home. It’s not so far. I could take the bus to the main intersection and walk the rest of the way.
“I think we need to get your car tonight, too. From Rowan’s garage. I wasn’t going to bring that up until after—”
“Until after you overspent on a BMW rental, then took my car to some place that’s going to end up charging us double?” My brow is raised so high, I think it might meet my hairline.
“Saylor, you’re blinded by that kid’s good looks. He and his friends aren’t really experts, and we need to make sure your car is safe for when—”
“When I go up north and start the social work school?” Now’s as good a time as any. We’re in it, so why not push through to the other side of this massive disagreement.
My mom’s teeth are pushing together. I can tell by the way her jaw flexes.
She finally mutters something, the word “ungrateful” one of the few I can understand as she sweeps her hand around her feet to gather the contents of her purse.
She tosses it in the back seat when she’s done, then turns her attention back to me.
“Saylor, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You're making terrible decisions, and I’m afraid the longer you hang out with those guys, stealing cars and burning down houses . . .”
“Ha. You think that’s what I’m out doing with Rowan, Miguel, and Jersey?
Casing joints, hotwiring cars and lighting matches?
Do you know how crazy you sound right now?
Besides, Rowan didn’t steal that car. The guy who brought it to them left them holding the bag.
It was hot before they started to work on it, and then he skipped town. ”
My mom shakes her head, her eyes heavy, and her mouth turned down at the sides.
“Mom, you don’t really think Rowan’s some criminal, do you?”
She looks down again, knotting her hands together. She’s honestly worried about this stuff, about me. But it’s not so much me as it is her reputation. I’m too tired to throw that back at her now, though. We’ll call this round one.
“I’m not getting a rental. And my car will be ready soon.
Just . . . drop me off at Cami’s.” I open the door and slide inside, buckling up and fixing my gaze to the sidewalk outside.
After a few quiet seconds, my mom shifts into drive and makes a U-turn toward Cami’s house.
She doesn’t try to sell me on her opinions for the rest of the drive, and I don’t pummel her with all the reasons she’s wrong.
I let myself into Cami’s backyard through the gate, and I kick off my shoes and dip my feet into her pool, kicking around the top step to keep cool. Cami won’t be home for two more hours, and I think my mom knew nobody was here when she dropped me off. We’re both done with each other for now.
Cami’s answer to all of life’s problems is girls’ night.
Maybe she’s right this time. My face stings a little less under the dim lights of the Velvet Room. I like clubs like this, where it’s less about the dancing and more about the vibe. Plus, they take our fake IDs.