Declan Hankinston is on a mission to find a new prom date amidst the pain of his first heartbreak. Encouraged by his cousin Aubrey, he ventures into the world of gay online dating and signs up for Grindr to seek a companion. Little does he know, Aub...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
John won't answer my calls or reply to my texts. I went to his house, but his Mom insisted he was not home.
I parked outside of Ben's and watched from the street, but a car kept passing by every 10 minutes, and the lady driving—she looked like a real fucking Karen—kept staring at me and giving me dirty looks. I'm assuming she's probably a part of the neighbourhood watch or something.
After her fifth pass, I decided it'd probably be best to leave in case she puts out an alert, and then I'll forever be known as the stalker girlfriend. I'd never be able to live it down.
I have to get John back on track to going to Kara's masquerade to meet Declan. I know it's risky, and I know Declan might figure it out, but I don't care.
I want him to hurt as much as I do. I want him to know that you can wake up one day and find out everything you know is a lie.
Like when I woke up and found out Dad didn't actually leave me. He found me one day after school last fall and told me just that. "You have to believe me." He said. "She didn't want me around. Instead, she had me pay child support to her when I was more than willing to take you in. She tricked me into signing over full custody to her and ensured that you were far away from me."
I watched as he paced around back and forth in front of me, like watching a drug addict come back to life. He seemed like he was hit with all these terrible memories that otherwise eat at him if he weren't high.
Which is, I guess, what Mom did to him. She got him all messed up on heroin, supposedly placed a pen in his hand, and forced him to sign paperwork he knew nothing about. That he was too fucked up to read. "Then she picked up and left, and I never saw you guys again." His hands fidgeted as he spoke.
I still haven't told her that I know this. Or that I am still in contact with him. We try to meet at least once a month and spend "quality time" together. We meet halfway in Clairton because I refuse to go to Masontown. Dad lives in a mobile home park there, and although I hate Mom so much for all the things she lied about, I'm happy I at least did not grow up in a trailer home.
I've been to his place once; it was the most rickety living space I've ever seen. There were cans of alcohol and soda all over the floor, dirty plasticware and used paper plates on the counter. Dad sleeps on one of those couches that have beds hiding in them. He converted into a couch when I visited, and sitting on it felt icky.
I also haven't told him about Mom's condition yet. I'm too scared that he'll somehow feel bad for her and remember how much he loved her and get sucked back into her life of lies.
Our life of lies.
And I'm also afraid of what will happen when she discovers that I know all her dirty little secrets.
She's been a lot worse lately, pretending like she's so badly hurt. I had to give her a sponge bath yesterday after getting home because she refuses to walk to the bathroom and pees on herself instead. Saying I've seen things I can't un-see would be an understatement.
I look up from the off-white shag carpet in Meera's office, otherwise known as Dr. Oriya, but she prefers I call her Meera. I prefer it too. It's more like I'm coming to hang out and complain about my life to a friend rather than speaking to a healthcare professional who's dissecting my every word. She's smiling at me, waiting for me to answer.
"No, it's been the same old." I deadpan, talking about Mom's condition.
I think Meera knows that I haven't been entirely truthful with her. She's constantly pushing for answers to my thoughts about Mom, and I can't hide the disdain in my eyes every time she does.
"Have you talked to her about hiring a home health nurse yet?" Meera's eyes are full of concern.
"I never know the right time to bring it up. She's always yelling at me, and I don't want to make it worse." I respond. I'm staring at the contents on her desk instead of making eye contact. I wonder if that's in my file. Constantly avoids eye contact.
"You must make sure you take care of yourself, Aubrey." She says sternly. She's always saying this. If I didn't care for myself, I wouldn't be here right now.
"Have you been doing yoga like we discussed? How are you on your medication, by the way? Have they helped?"
"Yes, and yes." I lie right to her face, at least about yoga. Yoga is fucking dull, and the poses are so hard. And I feel like it makes time go by slower. I hate it.
The medication, on the other hand, has been so-so. I don't know if I can tell the difference. Meera says it can take up to three months and is different for everyone. I've only been on it for two and a half weeks, and the only difference I can tell is I can finally sleep. But I also wake up super nauseous, so I don't know if the sleep is worth the nausea.
"Have you been taking note of changes in your mood or any side effects, if any?"
I press my lips together and shake my head.
"No," I say, trying to sound disappointed in myself so Meera wouldn't give me one of her 'you know what you should be doing, so why aren't you doing it?' speeches.
"Aubrey..." Meera sighs and pauses as if she is biting her tongue or hesitating to say the next thing. "Will you make me a promise then?"
"Depends on what it is."
"This is no longer a free-for-all, you're going to be leaving here with homework for the week. All I need you to do is promise to do them."
Are you fucking me?
"Sure." I mutter.
"Nope, promise." Meera snaps back.
I stare blankly at her to let her know I'm unamused but she doesn't let up. It's the first time in this session that we're making eye contact and of course I'm glaring at her with boisterous eyes. Anger is the only emotion I feel comfortable showing.
I blink my eyes in annoyance. "Promise."
◤◢◣◥◤ ◢◣◆◢◣◥◤◢◣◥
"How are things going with Declan? Do you think he'll be mad at you for keeping me a secret?" Dad asks over the phone. I'm parked at Ben's house again, hoping John will come out and go home. Still no sign of him.
"No, I haven't. Can't I just have something for myself for once?" I snap back. "He's been avoiding me lately so I don't know when the perfect time to tell him is. Plus, if he knows then he'll tell Aunt Irene and Aunt Irene will tell Mom, and I don't want Mom knowing that I'm in contact with you."
"I just thought since you're so close that you would have told him by now. Does anyone know that you talk to me? What about your boyfriend, John?"
"No." I respond. Dad is talking but my mind is thinking about how I need to get John back on track with our plan. I can hear everything Dad is saying but it's not registering. All he wants is for me to be able to trust someone, anyone, in my life because it's important to have a shoulder to lean on.
Why would I ever trust anyone with my deepest darkest secrets? The relationship that I have with my father is no one's business but my own. He was kept out of my life and was made out to be this horrible person when he's not, I'd like to get to know him on my own terms, with no outside interference or opinions.
Declan would definitely have some opinions because he's always team Mom. He'll never be able to understand the emptiness I feel when I think about how awful it was to be raised by Mom and how much not having Dad around really fucked with my self-worth, especially considering the story I was told: that he just up and left.
