w e e k 1 3 : l i l i e s
Mum walked into my room where I was sitting at the desk, working on a Lit paper that was due the following Tuesday. I had gotten enough out to convince myself that I wasn't a total potato, but not enough for a good grade yet. We had to write a paper on the correlation forgiveness had with wealthiness. Ironic, right? Considering that I was far from wealthy and I still hadn't forgiven myself for making a damned fool of myself three weeks ago (and damaging my already under-sized ego).
I had no material for this paper and was well aware that I was writing complete bullshit.
"Hey Mum." I tilted my laptop down and turned my chair around as she walked into the room. Realizing how sketchy that must have looked though, I quickly backtracked and opened the screen back up so that she could see I was only on Google Docs. "What can I do for you?" I asked.
She chuckled and walked over to the edge of my bed, sitting down and sighing heavily. She held a strange looking bouquet of white flowers in her hands and I immediately knew that she had just been with Juliet. I could feel Juliet's aura rolling off of her in waves. Juliet was just so electrifying that even after breaking her son's heart, my mum couldn't stop liking her (she didn't dare admit it to me, but it wasn't hard to tell).
"J just left," she said.
I nodded slowly, pursing my lips as I pointed to the flowers in her lap. "Yeah, I guessed as much," I said.
Mum chuckled and rolled her eyes at herself. "Right—of course you saw these," she shook her head and let out a long sigh. She didn't look like her regular self. She was here, sitting in front of me, but it was clear as day that her mind was elsewhere.
I rolled my chair across the floor, closing the distance between me and Mum. I stopped right beside my bed and leaned my arms against my legs, looking up at my mum's face. "Is everything alright?" I asked.
She eyed me for a moment, before licking her thumb and using it to wipe away at something on my cheek. She gave me a pointed look. "You tell me," she said.
I swatted her hand away and frowned. "Is this about me and Juliet?" I asked accusingly.
Juliet wasn't exactly the most popular topic between the two of us. It was hard enough to think about her, but the thought of having to talk about her and explain my rejection to Mum was just a complete turn off. She had tried to bring it up a few times, but I had smartly—or at least effectively—maneuvered the conversations in other directions.
Mum shrugged and gave me a what-am-i-supposed-to-do look. "Miles, you're in love!" she said. "I can't just keep sitting back and pretending that I don't notice that you're hurting. I'm your mother, Miles. Seeing you in pain hurts me too."
Folding my arms over my chest, I gave Mum the flattest look I could manage. "Well you don't have to worry about it anymore, because I'm not in love anymore."
I lied right through my teeth and I'm still not sure why, because after eighteen years I knew well enough that Mum could always tell when I was lying. I'm not sure what exactly my Achilles' heel was—the one mistake that gave it all away—but every single time I lied, without fail, Mum could tell.
She laughed, nodding her head even though her eyes completely gave away that she didn't believe me. "You never were a good liar, Miles," she said, pushing a lock of my hair back behind my ear.
I gave my head a small shake and the hair fell back to where it had been before. Mum gave me a flat look and I just grinned at her. "Don't worry about it, Mum. Seriously," I said.
Her eyebrows drew together. "You can't just tell me not to worry about something and expect me not to worry about it, baby. It doesn't work that way."
Ugh, baby. I both hated and loved when she called me that.
I hated that I loved when she called me that.
She continued, "I see the way the two of you look at each other—"
"I haven't seen her face in two whole weeks." Two long, excruciating, pointless weeks.
"Miles, even before this all happened, it was clear. I'm not a stranger to what love looks like—"
I groaned. "Whatever she may be feeling towards me, it definitely isn't love," I muttered.
Pity, maybe.
A scowl passed over Mum's face and she raised an eyebrow at me. "Stop interrupting me, Miles," she said.
I looked down. "Sorry, Mum."
She sighed, "It's okay. Just—you keep interrupting me before I can finish, and I need to say this to you." She reached over and put a hand on my back, rubbing it lightly. "This girl," she said, referring to Juliet of course, "she loves you."
My head jerked up and I opened my mouth to protest, but Mum gave me a warning look and I knew better than to argue right then.
"She loves you," Mum repeated. "And obviously I don't know exactly what happened between the two of you, and I don't expect you to tell me, but you need to know that the two of you are equally as torn up about it."
"We are?" I asked.
Mum nodded. "I see her every day, obviously you're at school when she comes by, but she asks about you every single time. Miles, she's torn up about this, whatever it is. I've known J for a little over a year now, and despite appearances, that is one bloody strong girl. She may be better at composing herself than you are, but she's hurting, Miles. She's hurting."
"Mum," I sighed, "she has a boyfriend. I know what you think you noticed, but it's wrong. She already has someone in her life. She doesn't need me."
Mum smiled, a knowing smile that could only come from years of knowledge and experience. "Sometimes, people are in relationships with others just because they want to have someone there, not necessarily because they want that specific person."
I frowned. "I'm not trying to get Juliet to cheat on her boyfriend, Mum."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Nobody said anything about cheating, Miles. And I wouldn't want someone with my son who would stoop as low as to cheat," she said, not a hint of humour in her voice. She muttered the next part under her breath, "Once a cheater, always a cheater."
"Um...okay, so what are you asking of me then?"
"I'm not asking anything of you, Miles. This is your life, and these are your decisions, but there is a girl that comes by our house almost every day that is madly in love with my son! I can't let this go on without you knowing that just because she's in a relationship, it doesn't mean it's over for you. People leave relationships all the time, and if she's what makes you happy, then you better bloody well fight for her! That's a lesson I wish someone would have taught me when I was a little younger. I know my son isn't a bloody dipstick, and I didn't raise him to be one. Don't let this go, Miles," she said seriously, looking me in the eye, her gaze not allowing for me to look anywhere else. "Don't let this go. But if you do, then you'd better not keep sulking on about it. Self-pity is not a good look on you."
Ah, I could always count on Mum for a fresh dose of tough love.
She leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "I want you to be happy," she said quietly. "Happier than me."
She got up to leave and I sat on the chair thinking about what that could possibly mean. What could I possibly do to show Juliet that I cared about her and was willing to fight? Did Juliet even want me to fight? God, girls really confused me. I wasn't a grand gestures type of guy, and from what I'd gathered, Juliet wasn't a grand gestures type of girl either. I just needed to let her know that I was still thinking about her in case she was still thinking about me. Fat chance though.
But if I did it, and afterwards she still didn't want me and wanted Him instead, then at least I would have tried, right?
At least I would have done one thing to make Mum proud that I was her son. One thing that would finally be what I wanted.
"Hey, Mum?" I spun around in the chair and she stopped at the door turning back to me.
"Yeah?"
"You're not really unhappy, are you?"
She let out a breath and chuckled. "Miles, you're too much of a handful. There's no time to think about any of that with you around. Ask me again after you go off to uni though."
I laughed, nodding. "I'll make sure to," I said, pointing to the bouquet in her hands. "And, um, what kind of flowers are those?" I asked.
"These are lilies," she said, smiling. "Do you want them?"
I thought about it. Thought about having a reminder of Juliet sitting atop my bedside table every night. I thought about falling asleep to dreams of that strange face that never failed to get me excited in all the right places. I thought about being able to see her, to touch her, to hold her again, and I liked those thoughts more that I wanted to admit.
I smiled. "Yeah," I said. "I think I do."
"Alright, I'm going to go put them in a vase then, you can come get them from the kitchen," she said.
"And the venus fly trap?" I asked, hopeful.
Mum rolled her eyes. "A little too late for that one, cobber. It's doing a great job of catching me unsuspecting bugs and I've grown a tad bit attached."
I sighed, laughing. "Well that's my mistake," I admitted. "I shouldn't have said no before. I'm a little bit of a dipstick, aren't I?"
"Yeah," Mum nodded, "that'd be right," she said. "But it's okay, because it's good to have a bloke that's a bit of a dipstick. It makes for a humble man—a man that really realises what he has when he's got you."
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