Surviving Valencia

“I didn’t realize you needed a vacation from me.”

“Get your clothes in order before Friday because once you’re at Heather’s you can’t come back here and pick new outfits. Understand?”

She got up and walked to the door.

“Should I pack it with clothes for Tuesday and Wednesday too?” I yelled, “Should I just pack it for the whole week in case you never come home?”

“You’re walking a fine line,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

I sat on my bed, kicking the mattress with my heels until they hurt too badly to continue. I had told a lot of people about this weekend. Now I would show up riding Heather’s manure-stinky school bus on the first day of school and everyone would think I was a liar.

In Seventeen and ‘Teen I read about gir

ls who got to visit their older sisters at college and stay overnight. They would do things like make popcorn and set each other’s hair with hot rollers. I would never be that girl because my parents would never allow it to happen. I got up to look for Valencia. She was my only chance at changing their minds.

Her bicycle was gone so I went to Van’s room to ask him if he had seen her. He was lying on his bed, reading a book. His room smelled like mint chewing gum and cologne.

“She went to babysit the neighbors while their mom’s at the dentist or something,” he said.

“Oh. How long ago did she leave?”

“I don’t know. Maybe an hour ago.”

“Well how nice and free it must feel to just pick up and go babysitting,” I said.

Van looked at me quizzically and went back to his book.

Valencia started baby-sitting when she was eleven years old. Now I was eleven and not only was I not allowed to babysit, but my parents still made Valencia or Van stay with me if they left for more than a quick errand. They were hypocrites. They made me sick.

I went back up to my room, completely defeated, and shut the door. Almost immediately someone knocked on it.

“What do you want?” I mumbled.

“Can I come in?” asked my mom.

“I don’t care.”

She opened the door and stuck her head in. A tight, stressed smile was on her face and in her hand was a plastic baggie filled with what looked like sand.

“Shake and Bake for dinner, so you better snap out of it if you want to eat with the rest of us.”

Chapter 20

I didn’t feel like staying at the cemetery any longer, but I didn’t want to go back to my parents’ house either. I drove around, scanning my periphery for cops and bars. If it wasn’t for the letters Adrian had received I would have gone straight back, perhaps would even have invited him along in the first place. But now everything was changing. Adrian was no longer my whole world. I could feel myself breaking away from him to protect myself. I wanted an explanation so badly that I had actually considered confronting him. How great would it be to have it all explained away and to go back to feeling peace again. But what if there was no explanation, and I unraveled our world? I would be left with nothing.

He found me at Frank’s Friendly Tavern, an hour and seven shots of Wild Turkey later, ready to puke into the lap of the old man on the barstool beside me.

“Honey,” he said, coming up behind me, holding my parents’ car keys in his hand. “I was worried about you.”

He settled my tab and helped me out to their car. As drunk as I was, I realized the irony in not borrowing Alexa’s clothes, yet taking her car all the way to Hudson and leaving it in the parking lot of a redneck bar.

My head was spinning. I hadn’t had this much to drink in years. “Adrian, do you love me?” I asked.

“Yes. Of course I do.”

He started the car and my head slipped against the cool passenger window.

“What’s going to happen when we get back to Savannah?”