Losers: Part II

We stayed in that house for hours; painting, laughing, drinking. Every now and then Vincent would sweep me up into his arms again, just to hold me close and whisper his love. I had paint smudges all over my face and clothes. My head was swimming from the beer, my chest was warm. But I felt as light as a feather, as if I could float, as if I could sing.

It wasn’t the beer giving me this warm, light feeling. It wasn’t drunkenness that made me pause every few minutes to look at Vincent, with his hair wild around his face and paint all over his hands, and feel such a deep adoration that my chest ached.

My head was still spinning when he brought me home. He pulled over down the street from my house, where he barely had a view of my front porch.

“I really hate that I can’t walk you to the door,” he said, frowning as he held my hand.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, it’s not, but I don’t know if I’ll manage to sway my mom on this.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he said, giving me that easy smile that always made me feel a thousand times better. “It’s not your fault, so don’t feel like it is.”

I nodded, even though I did still feel guilty. Mom’s behavior may not have been my fault, but she still came with me like an unpleasant package deal. The boys had been trying their best to tiptoe around her, and frankly, they shouldn’t have had to.

“Thanks for the adventure,” I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “And for…everything.”

We laughed through our messy kisses for a moment, and when I opened the door to get out, he said again, “I love you, Jess.”

Those words…God, it made me feel like my heart had been punted like a football, flying high through the air.

“I love you too.” My response left my tongue tingling. First Manson, now Vincent…but I paused for a moment, biting my lip.

Vince noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…you all make me so happy,” I said. “But make me feel differently, too. Like I couldn’t compare the way I feel about you to Jason, or Lucas. Except…I can in some ways. In one way, I do feel the same about all of you.” I swallowed hard as I looked at him, wondering if he’d managed to make any sense out of that word vomit.

There was one feeling they all inspired in me. Two of them, I’d been honest with. The other two…

“Every relationship moves at its own pace,” Vincent said. “Even the ones happening in tandem. Don’t worry about someone getting jealous or feeling left out, but if you are, talk to them. Manson and I wear our hearts on our sleeves. Jason and Lucas are a little harder to figure out.”

The tension went out of my shoulders, and I said, “Thanks, Vincent. I’m still getting used to how this all works.”

He shrugged. “I am too. We’ll probably be figuring it out our whole lives, but that’s okay. We’ve got a lot going on in that lump of gray flesh up there.” He tapped the side of his head. “Well, most people do. Sometimes, mine is stuck playing elevator music for hours on end.”

I laughed as I got out of the car, closing the door behind me and waving at him through the open window. Before I walked away, he quickly added, “Hey, Jason is meeting you for the gym in the morning, right?” I nodded. “Try to keep things upbeat for him tomorrow if you can. It’s…it might be a rough day.”

“A rough day?” I frowned. “What happened?”

Vincent grimaced. “He’ll talk to you about it if he feels like bringing it up. Just, uh…distract him?”

I gave him a sly smile. “Oh, I can certainly do that.”

If I hadn’t had to work in the morning, I would have gone with him back to their house to sleep. Sleeping in my own bed, alone, was getting significantly more difficult. I missed the warmth of them around me. I missed waking up early to have coffee with Lucas. I missed wearing Jason’s clothes around the house.

Coming home didn’t feel warm and welcoming like going to their house did.

As I walked in the door, Steph was setting the table for dinner, complaining as she did. “But, Mom, it’s not fair! Olivia got her extensions put in last week. Why can’t I get mine done tomorrow? Come on!”

Her whining was already getting on my nerves. Mom shot me an odd look as I came into the kitchen, automatically getting out a stack of plates since my sister had barely set out the forks.

“Where have you been all day?” Mom said sharply, looking me up and down with a suspicious expression.

“Out with friends,” I said, setting the plates around the table.

Steph was still griping, and Mom finally sighed and said, “Fine, sweetie, fine, I’ll switch your appointment to tomorrow.”

Good grief, was that the trick to getting Mom to do what I wanted? Be as whiny and annoying as possible? Except, that literally had never worked for me. The way Mom handled me versus how she responded to my sister was depressingly different.

But at least it made Steph stop nagging. We sat down to eat, but that weird tension emanating toward me from my mother wouldn’t quit. She kept sniffing, as if she smelled something bad, wrinkling her nose and huffing.

“Is something wrong?” I finally said, after she loudly sniffed and made a face yet again.

“Ugh, it’s that awful smell,” she said. Me and my sister exchanged a look of confusion. My dad was determinedly staring at his phone, scooping food onto his fork without even looking at it. “Like a skunk.”

It took considerable effort not to roll my eyes. There was no way Mom smelled weed on me; I hadn’t even smoked. She was being petty, so I said nothing and went back to my food. But Mom wasn’t done.

She took a long sip of her wine, delicately set down the glass, and said primly, “There’s a drug test on the bathroom counter, Jessica. You’ll take it after dinner.”

My fork clattered against the plate as it dropped from my hand. “Mom, that is ridiculous.”

Dad awkwardly cleared his throat, saying, “Now, Charlene, I thought we talked about that not being necessary.”

But Mom paid him no mind.

“I know what those boys do, Jessica,” she hissed. “What kind of fool do you think I am? Your sister goes to school with that Volkov boy’s sister, and she claims the two of you are dating. Dating a drug dealer, Jessica? Really?”

“He’s not —”

Mom gave a highly unpleasant laugh. “Criminal records are accessible to the public, I’ll have you know. If he was getting in trouble for it in high school, I highly doubt he’s stopped now. While you are living under my roof, you will follow my rules. And I will not have you going out and getting high with these degenerates.”

“You don’t know them!”

I stood up so fast that my chair screeched across the floor. They were all staring at me, eyes wide, food forgotten. My skin was on fire. I was so furious that I almost sputtered as I shouted.

“You’ve never met them, you’ve never even asked me about them! You’re basing all of this off of assumptions you made about them years ago! If you’re so concerned about my well-being, if you’re so damn worried, why don’t you talk to me like a human being? Why don’t you treat me like you actually care? You’re just pissed off that I’m not dating someone you want me to!”

Mom stared at me, her mouth agape. Steph was making a clear “oh shit” face as she watched me completely lose my temper. Dad was peering at me over his reading glasses.

“Let’s all just calm down,” he said, but I wasn’t having it.

I was past the point of being calm.

“I’ll start paying rent,” I said. “Dad, we can have a discussion soon and agree on a price, okay?” He nodded, still looking perplexed. “And I’ll be moving out as soon as I can. Mom…” She folded her arms, stubbornness running through every inch of her. “If you actually care, if this has anything to do with you actually being worried about my safety, I’ll happily talk to you about it. But you’ve never asked me how I felt. You’ve never asked if I felt safe, happy, cared for, anything! And I can’t even introduce them to you. I can’t give you an opportunity to know them, because you won’t let them near the house.”

“And I won’t be letting them,” she said. “I know everything I need to.”

I sighed, picking up my plate. “No, you don’t. And if you keep refusing to see that, then someday, you won’t know me at all. You won’t hear from me. You won’t see me. No phone calls, no visits, no texts. Nothing. You are driving me away from you.” I held eye contact with her, watching fury and sadness go to war in her eyes. “Because of you, when I leave here, I’m not going to want to come back.”

She gasped, but I’d already turned my back. Dumping my plate in the sink, having lost my appetite, I spent the rest of the evening shut in my room.

My heart was in my throat when I heard my mother’s footsteps come up the stairs. But she didn’t knock; she didn’t even take a step towards my room. I heard her bedroom door close, and faintly, the sound of her TV.

My throat was so tight. My eyes stung, until my vision was nothing more than a watery blur.

I’d always wanted my mom’s approval so badly. When I was little, the thought of disappointing her made me physically ill. But now, any desire of the like was out the window. I felt stifled, frustrated, stuck. I felt like I’d been made into a villain not because I’d done something wrong, but because I’d dared to do something right for me.

It hurt. It fucking sucked. Severing my relationship with my mom felt like cutting off my own arm. Even if it was necessary, even if that was the only way I’d be able to move forward in my life.

I still felt so damn guilty.

***

That guilt hadn’t gone away when Jason arrived to pick me up for the gym the next morning.

“Morning,” he said, leaning over to kiss me. He obviously hadn’t slept well either. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his voice was still rough as if he’d just rolled out of bed. His hair was disheveled, curled into odd positions and mashed against his head on one side.

“Morning,” I said, rubbing my tired eyes. Lack of sleep always gave me a headache. I was still trying to begrudgingly work my way through a protein bar, but every bite tasted like sticky cardboard.

By the time we pulled into the gym parking lot, I’d simply given up on eating it.

Jason parked, but he didn’t immediately turn off the engine. We sat there in silence as the song played out, both of us lost in our grumpy little worlds.

When the song ended, we sighed and looked up at each other in surprise.

“Jess, honestly, I don’t feel like working out today,” he said. “I slept like shit.”

“Me too,” I said. “I’m so tired. My head hurts.” I made a face at my gross protein bar, crumpled the wrapper around it, and stuffed it back in my bag. “Let’s skip the gym today.”

“That sounds good to me,” he said.

“I’m going to call out of work,” I suddenly muttered. “I sincerely don’t have the energy to deal with bullshit today.”

“Damn, being bad today, huh?” he said, pinching his lip thoughtfully. “I think I’ll join you on that bullshit-free day of yours. Sounds exactly like what I need.”

Already feeling better, I turned the radio up and settled back into my seat. “So, what should we do?”

He gave me a smile that spoke of only wicked things.