Too bad that's not the way it is.
A sob pierces my ear through the receiver. If I thought I felt cold before, it's nothing compared to the way I feel right now.
"Ja—den," she cries. "Mike..."
"What is it, Mom? What happened?" I try to make out when she's telling me as I head through the lobby so I can get back to our room.
A hand touches my shoulder as and I don't have to turn around to know who it is. Maybe I should turn around though. Say or at least acknowledge her, but I don't. Mom is wailing at me. With each second dread slams into me harder. I'm a nail and it's a hammer beating my head over and over.
"Did he hurt you?" What will I do if he hurt her? It'll be my fault for leaving her. For not taking the brunt of his verbal assaults.
She's crying so hard I hardly understand her.
Priscilla and I are in the elevator now. My feet refuse to stay still as I pace the small space back and forth.
Don't let him have hurt her. Don't let him have hurt her.
Did she pray that same thing when he went off on me?
The sick feeling in my gut multiplies. I shouldn't be thinking about myself. Not right now.
"He's gone!" Her words are finally clear enough for me to understand. "He left me. He left me, he left me," she keeps mumbling over and over.
I actually exhale a sigh of relief. He's a bastard. Maybe things will be different for us now. Maybe she'll care about me when he's not around.
Mom cries again and that's when guilt hits for my thoughts. She loves him. Needs him, not me. "Are you okay?" I ask.
"No!" she yells. "He left me, Jaden! He...you..."
Her words are a whip lashing me with more strength than any of his could have. I just keep hearing the "you." It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault.
Why is everything my fault?
"How am I supposed to do it without him? What am I supposed to do now? I'm lost without him! What did you do? What did you do?" Then, she starts to wail and cry again.
I flinch. My eyes feel wet. What did I do? I don't know. But I have to fix it.
"Mom... I'm sorry."
I waver between guilt and anger. What could I have done? I'm here and she's there. Why does it always have to be me? But what if it is somehow my fault? Something I did, or because I left her there with him. Why did I leave her with him? "I'll be right there, okay?" I move around the room and start throwing stuff in my suitcase. "I'll fix it, okay? I promise. You stay there and I'll find a way to fix it."
She's crying so hard she doesn't answer. I don't know if it's the right thing to do, but I hang up the phone.
Scouring the room, I keep throwing things in the suitcase. Priscilla's on her phone. I can't hear anything she's saying over my pulse in my ears and part of me wants to ask her what she's doing, but the other part knows it shouldn't matter. Not when my mom needs me. I’m almost afraid to speak—scared that if I do I'll cry and the thought of crying in front of her makes me sick.
Next I move to the bathroom, throwing my toothbrush, deodorant, and everything else in my bag. When I come out Priscilla is off the phone and doing the same thing—gathering all her things and stuffing them into her suitcase. She's usually so careful by folding all her stuff, but this time it looks just as messy as mine.
"What are you doing?" It drives me crazy when I ask stupid questions. It's obvious what she's doing.
"Packing."
"Why?"
She looks at me, her eyes crinkled around the edges. "We have to go home, right? Your mom. I mean, it sounded like..."
Immediately I freeze up. This is my problem. Priscilla shouldn't have to go home because of it. I don't want her to see what I'm going home to. Don't want her to realize that I'm not worth it.
"You should stay here." I shrug as though it's not a big deal. "I mean, you guys are having fun, or whatever. You don't have to leave for me. I'm sure everything is okay." It's not, though. Or maybe it's just me who's not okay.
"It sounded like a big deal to me." Fire lights her words.
"That still doesn't mean you should have to go. Stay, have fun. You're supposed to get the keys to your apartment today, right?" I grab my bag, wanting the words back, but not having the balls to say so.
"Dios. Tell me you're not serious."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Hurt flashes in her brown eyes. "You don't want me to go?"
I shake my head, imagining Priscilla coming home with me—hearing all the things they have to say. You're nothing. It's your fault. Are you going to mooch off your friends forever? "No. It's not that I don't want you to go, it's just... I don't need you to go." As soon as the words leave my mouth I know they're the worst thing I can say. The way she flinches is almost liked I slapped her.
"That's not what I mean! It's not that I don't need you, it's just...you shouldn't have to go. You shouldn't have to pay for a plane ticket and all that for no reason. I'll be back soon." The words are like acid because though I want them, I don't believe them. How can I come back if Mom needs me there? What kind of person would I be?
"It's not for no reason." Priscilla crosses her arms. "It's for you."
For me. Is there anyone else who thinks about me the way she does? "I gotta go. It's not that big of a deal." Leaning forward I try to kiss her, but she pulls away.
Her eyes start to water, but I can see her fight it. See her jaw clench, making guilt bulldoze me. I'm already screwing up with her.
"Jaden, don't do this. Don't cut me out."
"I'm not!"
"Yes, you are! You don't think I could tell your mom was freaking out? You don't think I know this is hard for you? Why won't you let me be there for you? Do you not trust me? I can get Sebastian—"
"No! That's not what it is. I told you all that stuff."
"But when it matters, you still lock me out! Caring means being there for the good and the bad, Jaden. For both of us. You only want to let me in on the good."
"That's because you shouldn't have to deal with the bad! My shit shouldn't be your problem."
"When you love someone, their problems are always yours. It's not about giving someone graduation party because it looks good, but because you want to spend time with them. Or sending someone away, it's about being there."
I run a hand through my hair, not getting what she's saying. And I don't have time for this. Not now. Mom needs me. And I need Priscilla.
"Don't hold it in. Let me be there for you, Jaden." The pain in her voice pulverizes my already shredded insides.
And I want her there. Want her there so much it makes my gut ache. More than that, I want what she's saying. I'm not sure if that makes me strong or weak, but right now it doesn't matter. I just want someone to have my back. Someone who is always there and not only for the good like she said or when they need me. Because even though I'm running off like this... I know Mom wouldn't do the same for me. And that kills me. But Priscilla? She would. She wants to.
"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep getting hurt by trying to be there when you don't want me. I do it with my parents and I can't do it with you, too."
She turns away from me and I know if I were to walk out the door right now, she'd let me. And she should. I don't want to hold it in. I don't want to do it alone. Maybe it makes me selfish or maybe it makes me the biggest f**king pu**y in the world, but I want her there.
"Come with me," I blurt out. Funny, how I don't even try to be smooth with her. All I can be is real. "It's going to suck and I hate that you have to see it, or hear however I screwed up this time, but—"
Slowly, she turns and when she looks at me. Questions echo in my brain that I don't have answers to. That I don't want to even think about right now. Not how I will regret this or what she'll see or hear I just... "Come with me. Please."
***
Priscilla calls Sebastian and Aspen while we wait for a cab. They apparently tried to give us some space which really means, ‘we-know-Jaden-is-freaking-out-and-he'll-be-embarrassed-if-we're-there'. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, let me tell you. Even my friends know I can't handle anything.
Then we get on the plane with tickets Priscilla bought while I'd been freaking out. I make her promise to let me pay her back.
My eyes keep jumping to her. My mind pulling up all kinds of scenarios for when we get home. Wondering what she'll think of me when Mom explains how I somehow screwed things up for her. Wasn't I supposed to make things better? By leaving she was supposed to be completely happy and now everything has somehow gone to shit and it's still my fault.
"You okay?" Priscilla grabs my hand.
"Yep."
"Obviously," she mumbles.
"Sorry. I don't mean to be a jerk."
Our flight only has one short layover. The closer we get to home the more edgy I get. I feel like I'm on something—all jumpy and twitchy.
We have to take a cab to my house. My mind is bouncing back and forth between Priscilla and Mom like someone passing a basketball.
What am I going to find when I get home?
What is Priscilla going to think?
Does Mom hate me now?
Do I want Priscilla to see whatever we find there?
The answer to that one is obviously no. "I was thinking... Maybe you should head home. I'll call you later and let you know how things go. I'm sure you don't want to deal with this crap."
Her head drops back against the back of the seat. "Do you not want me there or are you embarrassed? Or do you not think I want to be there?"
"Does it matter?" I scratch my head.
"Are all boys this dense?"
I let out a small laugh. "I don't know, Priscilla. I'm trying here."