He might leave.
I want him to know the truth.
I want to be like Ariel, strong enough to sing my fucking heart out.
Strong enough to go after what I want.
To show off my scars.
My secrets.
I'm not ready yet. But I can get there.
I can let him in. Or at least try. Or start to try.
I rush to my bedroom. Pore over my journal for just the right thing. Not a poem. Not a story. An entry. One about him. One that shows off something ugly, something I can stand him knowing.
It takes half an hour, but I find it.
I tear the pages out. Grab a silver Sharpie. Sign my name with an I'm sorry and slide it under his bedroom door.
That's something.
I just hope it's enough.
I'm halfway through my almond butter and jelly sandwich when my cell starts buzzing. Dammit. I'm going to have to come up with a lie, a believable lie, if I want Emma to drop this.
But it's not a text from Emma.
It's my mom.
My stomach twists. I don't have the energy to pretend everything's okay. Or to hold my tongue.
I pick up anyway. "Hey."
"Kay. Hey." Mom's voice is soft. Loving. "How are you? How was your first day?"
"Okay. It's been Latin and American lit. Tomorrow is chemistry and creative writing."
Her voice perks. "Yeah?"
My shoulders rise to my ears. Is that a why would you waste your time or interesting, tell me more. "It's just an elective."
"No, sweetie. That's great. You've always been such a wonderful writer. Your grandma keeps going on and on about your stories. She misses them."
"Are you going to tell me the truth?"
"What?"
"About how she's doing?" I don't have the energy to pretend like I'm okay not knowing. Or to deny that things are fucked. They are. And I need to know how fucked.
"We're not sure. Honestly, I don't understand half of what the doctors say. Something about heart disease and clogged arteries. Her condition is terminal, but they're not sure if it will be months or years."
"Oh." It might only be months. It might be nothing at all.
"I asked Mr. Kane about the best time to fly you out. He wasn't sure."
It's so weird, her calling Brendon Mr. Kane. "Any weekend. I just need to know in advance. Jake will give me the time off." Probably. But even if he doesn't, I'm taking it. I've worked at The Pizza Kitchen long enough. I can find a better job if I have to.