Daughter of the Demon (I)

Daughter of the Demon-21-Numb

“Since when do you have the right to ask me anything? You know what? You wouldn’t need answers if you’d just stick around for longer than a few weeks.”

“You know I can’t do that!”

“No Mom, you can. You just don’t want to.”

She clutched the back of the couch we stood behind and narrowed her eyes at me. “Will you just listen to me?”

I glared at her, but I said nothing and let her continue.

“My job bought me a house in Southern California. There’s a private school nearby and I was wondering if you’d like to move there with me. You could attend it and---”

“What about Tony?”

She rubbed her forearms. “He doesn’t remember me. It wouldn't be right.”

“So, you’re just going to leave him? Forget he was ever your son?”

“No. When he’s older I’ll come back, but . . .”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“ I’m turning down your offer. I cannot and will not leave Heart, North Carolina.”

My mother looked shocked, angry, saddened. She started pacing away from me, back and forth. “I don’t understand,” she muttered. “Why not?”

“There’s too much here. Plus, I only have one more year left until college. I can’t miss that.”

“You’ll be fine. You can even go to college in California and contact your friends regularly. You’ll have phone, e-mails, skype, Facebook, you won’t lose contact, I promise.”

I held my head, frustrated. “Even if I weren’t worried about school, that’s not the main reason why I’m not going.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “If you want Tony to come along, I’m sure we can work something out . . .”

“No, he's not the one I'm in love with!”

She looked taken aback, fumbling for her words. “Jacob . . . what do you . . . are you saying . . .”

My eyes widened when I realized what I’d said and what I’d thankfully not revealed. She reached out to me but I backed away, headed toward the stairs. I ran up them, hearing my mom call me back, but I walked straight into my bathroom and locked the door. I needed time to think. I turned on the shower and slipped my shirt over my head. Steam began to fill the room. I stared at myself in the mirror, at my piercing blue eyes and shaggy brown hair. I brought my hand up and brushed it over my lips, closing my eyes, remembering a particular mouth that they once touched . . .

Holy hell, I almost said I loved Jemma. God, what the fuck was wrong with me? I had an image, a picture, and right now I was coloring outside the lines.

I moved my hands over my face, shoving the heels of my palms into my eyes. Why was everything so frickin’ confusing? Why couldn’t life just be simple and make sense?

I stripped off the rest of my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water sear my skin and cleanse me. It was so incredibly hot but it felt so incredibly good.

I couldn’t leave Heart and go to California. First off, I didn’t think I could survive even a day of nothing but my mom. Secondly, there was no way I was leaving Dad. Someday he would come out, I knew. One of these days. I just knew.

And . . . Fine, I’ll admit it.

I couldn’t leave Jemma.

She was gone, but like my father, she would come back. Everybody did eventually.