In Spite Of Me

39.

Theresa's face drains of color as pure terror spreads across it. By the expression on her face, I don't need to be told who is on the other side of that door to know. I can only safely assume that it is her mother.

"Oh my god, Hardin, get in the closet," she hisses her whisper while grabbing my arm and trying desperately to drag me toward the small door in the corner.

I look at the tiny closet, momentarily forgetting what I was about to say at the sudden shift in mood. I could barely manage to get one foot in there.

"I am not hiding in the closet. You're eighteen." I tell her flatly.

Is this what they do with Noah everytime her mother storms in?

She looks outright offended by my refusal and she expresses it in a groan, but I don't care. I am absolutely not about to squeeze myself into a closet like some guilty teenager. Imstead, I stretch my feet out to settle comfortably on her bed. If her mother wants to barge in here and make a scene, fine. I am all about enjoying the show.

Realizing I have no intention of cooperating with her panic, Theresa starts running around the room, grabbing toothpaste for some reason as the pounding on the door gets louder. I consider lying down on the bed and really committing to the bit, but I realize that would probably be more incriminating. So I just sit and watch Theresa do her quick fix.

At last, she opens the door with a weak greeting. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?"

The same woman I saw last week strides in like a hurricane ignoring Theresa's greeting. Behind her, a familiar figure hesitates before shuffling inside as well. I can only assume this is Noah.

"So this is why you haven't been answering your phone?" she demands as she marches straight toward me. "Because you have this… this… tattooed troublemaker in your room at six a.m.!" 

I mentally wince.

Theresa, on the other hand, seems to be speechless. I understand once again why she is always in that state of permanent wide eyes. This woman has clearly been shouting her into submission for years.

"Is this what you do in college, young lady? You stay up all night and bring boys back to your room? Poor Noah was worried sick about you, and we drive all this way to find you being dare I say it, slutty."

Both Noah and Theresa audibly gasp, and even I can't stop my eyes from widening. Did she really just call her own daughter that? Over a boy sitting on her bed?

"Who is he?" she presses. "Theresa, who is this boy?"

Would you look at that, I've been demoted to boy now.

"Mom, this is-this is Hardin. He's my friend. He just-"

"You have a male friend in your dorm room??" Her mother's voice rises again as she interrupts. "With the door closed? Do you have any idea how this looks?"

Theresa does this too... accuses and judges first before asking questions later. She gets it from her mother. They even have the same expressions, but her mother's is quite the opposite.

"Actually, I just got here," I find myself saying, because someone needs to say something, and Theresa looks like she might pass out. "The door wasn't closed. And she wasn't doing anything wrong."

Theresa gives me a strange look just as her mother whips her blazing eyes to me again. She looks cruel when she's mad unlike how cute Theresa looks. She has somehow found a way of projecting every violent emotion she feels via her eyes, such that they are almost popping out of her head. It is the most inappropriate time to be thinking this, but I find myself strangely grateful that my own mother never had time to look at me like that.

"Excuse me? I certainly wasn't speaking to you. I don't even know what someone like you is doing hanging around my daughter anyway. What are you supposed to be?" Her voice drips with disdain as she looks me up and down.

"Mother!" Theresa grits out.

"Look at him, Tessa! Look at those tattoos! That hair! He looks like he just crawled out of a-"

"He's my friend," Theresa says again. Her act of defense surprises Noah as much as it does me. He looks between me and her in confusion, but more at me with a disapproving frown. "He's been helping me with-"

"He is not helping you in any way. And I will not allow him get you drunk or throw your future away!"

"Carol, I tried to tell you-" Noah starts, but Theresa's mother waves him off.

"Noah, you're a good boy. You tried to warn me about this." She turns back to Theresa, and her voice gets louder, if that is even possible. "Tessa you are out of control. Getting drunk..."

"I wasn't-I didn't-" Theresa stammer helplessly.

"Don't lie to me, Theresa. I can smell the liquor on you from here, and I can only assume this is the influence of your lovely roomate." Her mother steps closer, and Theresa flinches. "Tessa, she's a bad influence. And him-" She jabs a finger in my direction without even looking. "He's clearly worse."

"Steph is my friend," Theresa says.

"Some friend," her mother snaps. "Friends don't encourage you to drink," She pauses to look at me again before curling her lip. "and they don't look like that."

I don't have the chance to be offended because Theresa unexpectedly launches into a speech that leaves all three of us in stunned silence.

"I am eighteen, Mother and I can choose my own friends. I have never drank before and I didn't do anything wrong. I am just doing what every other college student is doing. I'm sorry that my cell phone battery died, and that you drove all the way here, but I'm fine."

With that said, she drops on the desk chair behind her.

Her mother recovers first and with a long sigh, she turns to me. For the first time since she arrived she speaks in a normal human volume. "Young man, could you leave us for a minute?"

At her request, I instinctively look at Theresa. We manage a full conversation with only our eyes and when she gives me a go to nod, I nod back and walk to the door. Noah follows behind me looking pleased as he shuts the door.

I pace outside the door, thinking about leaving, but I can't just walk away after being a contributing factor to her mother's outburst. I decide to sit down on the floor and wait. I have a feeling her mother wouldn't hurt her, not physically, and part of me clings to the idea that afterward, Theresa and I might finally return to the conversation that was so rudely interrupted.

Minutes later, the door opens and the three of them walk out with neutral expressions. They seem to have reached some sort of agreement but upon seeing me, Noah immediately claims Theresa's hand in a possessive grip that doesn't go unnoticed.

"We are going to go into town," Theresa informs me quietly.

The fragile hope I had of speaking to her afterward slips out of reach and consequently, I barely understand what she has said. I nod nonetheless but my mind is preoccupied elsewhere. This is the answer I needed. The kiss meant nothing so that issue is resolved neatly...

So why do I feel an unwelcome pang of pain in my chest.

By the time I fully process what she has said, they are already walking past me. Theresa doesn't even look at me and suddenly I feel like a discarded piece of rubbish. If Molly thought Theresa's refusal to kiss me yesterday was my rejection... She was very wrong. Dismissal is my rejection.