Begin Again

chapter five

"Quitting is for losers. Didn't I ever teach you that?" I can't help but laugh, sliding into the car. It's colder in New Jersey than in the city, and I'm grateful that she has the heat turned up.

"Yeah, when I tried quitting soccer after one practice," I tease, and she rolls her eyes. "Smoking is different."

She shoots me a wry smile. "Does it help if I say I smoke on alternate Mondays every other month?"

"It's Friday."

"Enough about me," she says haughtily, and I chuckle. "How's school? And that boyfriend of yours? You didn't mention him when we talked before."

I pick at my cuticles, feeling a wave of sadness wash over me. I've been pretty good about not thinking of Sebastian. I've even managed to stop crying myself to sleep or crying at all over him. "We broke up." Once the words leave my mouth, my mom lets out a loud gasp, suddenly swerving on the road as she narrowly avoids hitting another car. The sudden movement causes me to grab ahold of the handle above my head. "Mom!"

"Sorry, sorry," she apologizes, shooting me a sheepish smile. "I was just not expecting that."

"Me either," I mutter, referring to the breakup and her almost ramming her car into oblivion on the freeway.

"What happened?" I immediately go into the details. The further I get into the story, the more her hands tighten on the wheel, and by the time I'm finished, she's ready to explode. "What an asshole!"

Her dark eyes are glaring at the street, and I know she wishes Sebastian was in front of the car now so she could run him over. She looks at me, her lips settling into a slight frown. "I'm sorry, Eve. I know how much you love him."

I shrug, adjusting myself in the seat. "It's fine, I guess." She doesn't respond, but I catch the fleeting look of pity she shoots me. I think that's the worst part of the breakup; the pitying looks from everyone. As if I'm going to break at any moment. I don't need those looks. I don't need everyone treating me like some fine china that will shatter with a single touch.

We spend the rest of the drive-in silence, save for the low volume of the radio. I think she can sense that I don't want to talk anymore, so I'm grateful. My mom has always been like that. She has always been able to pick up on my body language. Sometimes I think she's so good at it because she was young when she had me—only nineteen and fresh out of high school—being so young had left a lot of room for her to maneuver when raising my younger brother and me. She is truly my best friend.

Pulling into the driveway, she cuts the engine. "If you need to talk, you know I'm here, right?" I nod, her hand touching my knee briefly. "If anyone knows anything about heartbreak, it's me." I know that's supposed to be a joke, but I can't help the pang in my chest. I know she's referring to my dad. It's about to be a year since his death. And I know she still struggles with that every single day.

It wasn't a swift death, making it much harder for her. She had been burdened with sitting and watching him wither away in a hospital for so long.

Cancer fucking sucks.

"Mom–" She shakes her head, her way of saying she doesn't want to talk about it. I understand. For everything she's been through, she will always try and stay strong for my brother and me.

"It took you guys long enough," were the first words my baby brother greets us with as we walk through the front door. He's lying horizontally on the couch, a random movie playing on the screen.

Mom puts her hands on her hips, giving him a withering stare that he's not paying attention to, his eyes glued to the television. "Lucas, did you finish your homework?" He pauses the movie, looking over his shoulder at us. His sheepish expression is answer enough, and her glare hardens. "Come say hello to your sister before I throw your ass out that window." Luke leaps up from the couch like his ass is on fire, and my jaw drops immediately. He's a tree towering over me.