Chapter 9
Dina
Ididn’t stay long at Michael’s. As soon as the sunlight touched the ground, I hurriedly showered and dressed, not wanting to be in his bedroom a minute longer. I winced when I saw my red and swollen face in the mirror.
Even after he left and the bed turned cold, I still stupidly tried to message and call him, unable to believe that he would be so cruel. He never picked up. He didn’t even read my texts. I even tried calling Lucy in case she was hurt, but got no response.
Why had Michael suddenly run out on me? One minute he was telling me that I was the one for him, and the next he was leaving me money on the dresser and telling me that we were a mistake.
His whiplash hurt. I was done. Fuck him. He’d humiliated me for the last time.
He didn’t live far from my house, so the money he left was even more insulting. I left it on his dresser, so when he came back home, he’d be reminded of what an asshole he was.
I rubbed my arms against the cool morning air, relieved to be home.
All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and never leave.
As I ambled up the driveway, I paused when I saw Tyler’s pickup truck in our driveway.
He was Lucy’s cousin and a couple of years older than us.
He was always coming over and helping my mom with stuff around the house.
He was a nice guy, and real handsome. A lot of girls in town thought he was hot and had their sights set on being his future wife.
Not me, though. He wasn’t my type. My type seemed to run in the older, wholly inappropriate-for-me direction. Someone who clearly had commitment issues.
I wondered what Tyler was doing here so early. Maybe we had another plumbing issue. I opened the front door, but when I went to close it, a gust of wind pulled it out of my hand, and it slammed shut.
“Shit,” I murmured.
“Dina?” My mom’s voice called out from the top of the stairs in her bedroom. She sounded wide awake and a little alarmed.
“It’s just me, Mom,” I called up. “Sorry about that; the wind was stronger than I thought.” My throat felt scratchy from all the crying I’d done. I shucked off my jacket and hung it up. “Hey, is Tyler here?”
I heard feet hitting the floor, and I swore I heard whispers. My brow furrowed as I started to climb the stairs. “Mom? Are you okay?”
“Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Um…no, no, Tyler’s not here.” She laughed, the sound coming out a little crazed. “I mean, he was here yesterday to fix the lawnmower. I–I tried to do the lawns yesterday, but it stopped working.”
“Why is his truck still here?” I walked towards her closed door. “Mom?”
“His truck stopped working; he’s coming by later this morning to pick it up. Don’t come in, darling, I’m not decent. Can you please make me a coffee? I think the coffee pods are in the pantry. I forgot to refill the drawer.”
I paused, my brow knitted in confusion. Something sounded off with her. “Um. Okay. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes! Yes, please. Just make me a coffee, sweetie, and I’ll be right down.”
Despite her weirdness, I shrugged and obeyed her request. I went out to the pantry, which was off the kitchen, by our backdoor. My brow furrowed when I thought I heard the front door open and quietly close. I shrugged again. It must be the wind. Our house was old and creaked a lot.
I grabbed a few pods and went back into the kitchen, but when I opened the small drawer where we kept the coffee pods for easy access, it was already half-full.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Mom came breezing into the kitchen, patting her hair. She was wearing her silk robe and fuzzy slippers. Her hair was down, which was unusual. Mom usually slept in a braid. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and her eyes were wild.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, of course I am.” She fiddled with the ends of her hair, her eyes avoiding mine. “Why?”
“You look different.”
Her red cheeks deepened. “I’m fine, honey.”
“Well, the pod drawers are full.”
“Oh.” She slapped her forehead. “Silly me. Coffee?” She trilled.
She went around me and swiftly started turning on the machine. She was behaving really odd, but my heart was too heavy to think or care.
“How was last night?” She asked.
Amazing. Magical. Heartbreaking.
“Dee?”
My mom whirled around and finally looked at me. When she spied my face, her expression immediately dropped, and she rushed forward. Her arms engulfed me as my face crumpled and I buried my face into her fragrant neck. “Oh my god, what happened?”
“Mom,” I sniffed. Apart from Lucy, my mom was my best friend, and I usually told her everything. But I couldn’t tell her this. I couldn’t even confide in Lucy.
Fuck. I cried harder.
“What is it? What’s happened? Are you hurt?” She held me out and raked me from head to foot, her expression fierce.
“No. Well, not physically.”
Her face softened in understanding, and she pulled me close again. “Ah…I see.”
I sniffed, and my mom tightened her arms around me. “Mom…does it always hurt?”
She paused her movements. “Sometimes, yes. It does.” She seemed to understand what I meant.
A knock on the door had me jumping, and my mom yanked back with a soft curse.
“Well, who could that be?” She breathlessly asked.
I wiped my face. “I don’t know. Kinda early for visitors.” I followed behind my mom, curious who it could be.
It was Tyler. A very harried-looking and disheveled Tyler. His shirt was wrinkled, and his hair was a mess.
“Did you walk here?” I asked.
But his attention wasn’t on me; he was focused on my mom. “What’s wrong? Why do you look upset?”
She stepped back, her gaze averting from his. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. I–maybe you should try your truck and see if it’s working.”
He watched my mom for a moment, and then with a tight nod, he turned to walk towards his truck.
“Well, that was rude. He didn’t even say hi.”
My mom didn’t answer. Her focus was on Tyler, who in turn was looking at us through his windscreen. I heard his truck roar to life and he didn’t seem all that surprised it worked. He stared at my mom for a fraction longer before finally pulling away.
“That was weird.”
Instead of responding, my mom wrapped her arm around my shoulders and guided me back inside. “C’mon, let’s have coffee, and you can tell me what happened.”
Oh, god. I didn’t have it in me to lie to her and make up a story. “Actually, I think I’m just gonna head up to bed. Sorry, Mom. I’m just not up to talking.”
She looked at me with concern, but nodded and gave me another long hug. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here if you need me.”
Feeling bereft, I traipsed up the stairs before I crawled into bed, threw my blanket over my head, and allowed silent tears to fall.