24. Langdon
Twenty Four
Langdon
H er bedroom smelled like flowers and coconut candles. I never wanted to leave that bed. But Heath stomped up the stairs loud enough for the whole house to hear and I scooted off her bed and went to the door, careful not to wake her. Heath nodded at me as I left and gave me a little pat on the shoulder.
“She’s asleep,” I told him on my way out.
“How is she?” Mom asks when I blow through the door.
“Sad. But still spunky,” I say.
Mom gives me a sad smile. “Just like her mother.”
“What happened? Why’d she leave?”
Mom shrugs. “I have my suspicions but I don’t know.”
“I don’t mean now. I mean why’d she leave before?”
Mom’s eyes dart all over the room. “It’s not my story to tell Lang. Things were different back then, it was complicated. ”
I snort. “That sounds like crap.”
“Language,” she snaps. “You’re a kid Lang. You don’t need to know the details of any adult’s lives.”
“Mom, come on, I’m seventeen.”
The tighter Mom’s grip the harder I pull away. I hate that she uses the adult child thing as a cop-out. I’ve lived through plenty that most kids don’t have to experience, yet she treats me like I’m some sheltered toddler.
“All you need to know is that people can figure out how to get by if they can learn to forgive, live with the scars of the past, and accept who they are in the now.”
My eyes roll on their own accord. “Whatever. I have homework.” Irritated, I push past her picking up my backpack on the way.
I hear Dad tell her that maybe it’s time to tell me what’s going on. That eventually it’ll all come out anyway. And Mom, she laughs like it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.
“Why would I go and spill her secrets now?” she says.
What the hell is going on?
I give up on homework, unable to focus, and flop onto my bed. I ache for Delia. I dream about her constantly. Green eyes watching me. Peering into my soul. Never looking away. I crave the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips. The softness of her lips against mine again. She lights a fire inside me. Her eyes on me make me feel like a thousand fireflies are buzzing around my stomach. Being in her room tonight was a rush. A room that was a time capsule for our parents’ generation .
Posters for bands I don’t know on the walls. An old stereo with a CD player. White curtains, yellowed from the sun. A corded phone. While Delia slept, I, like some creep, cased the room, took in all the small absurdities. None of it was Delia. The room was a relic from another teenager in another lifetime.
What would I do if my mom or dad disappeared? Why was no one worried or searching for Jennifer? My phone vibrates in my pocket. Unlocking the screen I see a snap from Hailie.
“Ugh.” I open it and immediately want to unsee the picture she’s sent. Boobs. Just boobs.
Normally I’d be pretty stoked but my brain is laser focused on one pair of breasts and they aren’t Hailie’s. I snap back a picture of the ceiling captioned ‘ Niko would appreciate that more’. Harsh, but absolutely true. I’m running out of ways to put Hailie off nicely. She snaps back immediately but I leave her on delivered . I really don’t care what her response is.
I send a snap to Niko telling him Hailie needs some attention. Maybe that will preoccupy her for a while.
I’m struck with an idea to cheer Delia up, if she comes to work tomorrow that is. I jump out of bed and rummage through a box buried in the back of my closet.