"You know you can't give me what I need.
And even though you mean so much to me,
I can't wait through everything,
Is this really happening?"
Xander
14 weeks after Mesi woke up...
"Xander, this is important."
I rolled my eyes, sitting back in my seat. "No kidding."
The lady in front of me sighed in frustration. She pushed her big, round tortoise-shell glasses up on her small nose, and tucked wisps of her long blonde hair that had fallen from the tight ponytail at the back of her head behind her ear. Her panty-hose clad legs were crossed, the left over the right, and her arms were folded in front of her chest. Everything about her told me she was trying very hard to keep from getting annoyed at me. Too late.
"C'mon, Xander. Give me something. Don't you want to find her?" I looked into her eyes for the first time, noticing that they were a nice deep blue, and instantly regretted it. Those deep blue eyes were not filled with annoyance, but full of concern. I hated concern.
I shook my head, pinching a small piece of the skin on my palm together with my fingers so I would keep it together. "You wanna know the truth, Jess?" She'd told me to call her by her first name, like every other adult who wanted something out of a child. "Truth is, I'm not sure. I mean, if she were to come back here, you'd just lock her up, wouldn't you? I don't want that. She'd just be taken from me again, but this time in a harsher way, and this time it would be my fault. Maybe if I leave her be, someday I'll see her again, you know, not behind bars."
Jess's eyes narrowed at me. "So you do know where she is?"
I groaned, becoming the exasperated one. "I didn't say that. And no, I don't know where she is. She never tells me where she goes when she leaves."
"Did she leave you a lot? For long periods of time?"
"Why do you care?"
Her chin was resting on her hand now, as if she was studying me, a rare and interesting creature outside of his natural environment. "I'm just trying to understand why you defend her. She did horrible things to you, hurt you, and yet you still worry about her."
"Yeah, well, keep trying to figure that one out, why don't ya?"
Jess leaned back in her chair. "You know, there's one more thing that's been bothering me." Then there was a pause before,"You're a strong young man. You're the captain of the soccer team. Why didn't you ever fight back?"
"Gee, I don't know, Jess. You say it's common sense that she shouldn't lay a hand on me, and yet you also say it's common sense that I should've laid a hand on her."
I stood up, done with the interrogation, and exited the room. Walking past the desks of people working tirelessly, I finally found the cool air of the outside world. It bit at my skin, turning my cheeks pink almost instantaneously, and numbed my fingers.
The walk wasn't far. The family I was staying with, the Hendersons, had a house just a couple blocks from the police station, and the center of town.
They were nice, the family I'd been brought to. They were pretty perfect, like the kinds you see on TV, with the mom and dad and three children that all cause their own mayhem, but in the end everyone hugs each other and says,"I love you." I had no idea those people existed until I was sleeping in their guest room.
I opened the front door, wiping off my shoes on the welcome mat my mother never would've bothered to buy, and placed them on the shoe rack just inside the house.
"Xander? Is that you? I told you I would pick you up," Casey, yelled out from the kitchen. I stepped towards the sound of her voice, following the scent of freshly baked cookies and apple juice. Two of her kids, Jackson and Lacie, were sitting at the island eagerly waiting for the cookies to cool.
I stood in the archway, not wanting to disrupt the picture of the perfect family before me. "Figured there was no point in making you drive there and back when it was only a five minute walk."
Casey looked up at me from where she was scraping chocolate chip cookies off the silver sheet and onto black cooling racks on top of the counter. "I know, but I didn't want you out there in the cold." She walked over and ran her hands up and down my arms like she was trying to warm me up. "We haven't had a chance to go out to the store and buy you a proper jacket for this chilly weather. All you have right now is this ratty old thing." She pointed to the thin army green windbreaker I'd thrown over my sweatshirt.
I shrugged her off, not wanting to be touched, and not wanting to talk about the jacket. "I think I'm just going to go up—"
Casey shook her head, cutting me off. "No you're not. The doctor said not to let you alone for too long, so that's what I'm doing. Now, why don't you start the homework your friend brought over for you? It's over there, on the table."
I picked up the packets of late work from all the days I'd missed. "What friend?"
"Hmm?" Casey asked, back to her cookie-scraping.
"What friend brought this?"
She put down the spatula for another second. "His name was, um, Jake, I think. Nice boy, seemed worried about you. You should give him a call when you're done with all that."
I nodded, mentally putting call Jake on my list of things to do.
...
The doorbell rang. And then it rang again. And again. And ag—James opened the door. I couldn't tell what they were saying, the walls muffling their voices, but I knew it was a woman who'd been so anxious to get inside.
"Xander!" James yelled out into the house, not knowing what room I was in.
I pulled myself off the couch and from the warmth of the blanket, and into the front hall. Waiting for me there was the very person I'd run away from.
"Hey, Jess. How's life?" I smiled a smile that I could tell wasn't very convincing.
James backed into the kitchen. "I'll leave you two to talk, then." He stopped walking. "Unless you want me to stay?"
I shook my head, giving him the okay to leave. I didn't need anyone from that family hearing more about me that they had already heard. They shouldn't have even known my name.
When Jess didn't answer my question, and instead sat herself down on the third step leading to the second floor, I stopped with niceties. "What do you want?"
"You never told me why you still worry about your mom."
I let out a small laugh. "That's why you're here at," I leaned into the den and checked the clock,"nine at night?"
Jess raked a hand through her hair that was no longer in a ponytail. "Yes. I just...I want to understand you, this case. I feel like I'm missing something."
I slid down the wall I'd been leaning against. "She came back." I took a deep breath before continuing. "She never failed to come back. She had the choice, every time she stepped foot out that door, to never come back. But she wasn't like my dad, she came back. Sure, sometimes she isn't very nice, says some harsh things, does some harsh things, but she loves me and I love her. She's great when she's sober, nice and charismatic and every bit as much a mom as the ones who go to all the PTA meetings, just in her own way. She cares about me, I know it."
And there was that silence that always seemed to find its way into my life those days. You know, that silence that happens after someone says something and the other person doesn't know how to respond, because it's to dreadful or sad or mean or simply un-respond-able.
After a while, I couldn't take it anymore and said cooly,"Anything else?"
Jess shook her head. "Wow, Xander. I'm...I'm sorry I—"
"Don't worry about it," I interrupted curtly.
"Really, though. I see where you're coming from now. I may not totally agree with it, I mean, I still think your mom was horrible to you, but I can see where you're coming from. And honestly, it says more about you than it does about her. You're a great kid, Xander."
I felt a familiar glob start forming in my throat, the kind that appears when you're trying not to cry. "Thanks." On the inside, I was screaming. I was screaming because this person I'd known for just a couple days, this person thought I was a good kid, and people I'd known my whole life thought differently. My dad thought differently. I might've been too young to remember it, but if he'd really loved me, if he thought I was great he would've stayed. And my mom...my mom had nights where I wished she would have the guts to leave like my dad did. I loved her for not leaving, but those nights were so hard I wondered what it'd have been like—well, what it'd have been like if I was put with the Hendersons earlier.
I went to bed soon after Jess left. I couldn't remember when she did, how long we stood there, just that once the door shut behind her, I slumped up the stairs and under the covers without even changing out of my clothes.
A/N: So...? How was it? I want honest answers, here. I mean, I can't improve if no one tells me what they like/dislike. So I'm begging you here, please let me know. Even if it's the smallest change in where I put a comma or if I should switch out a word for its synonym, that can make a big difference in the flow of the story. Please tell me about these things, they can be hard to notice on my own.
OK. Now, I hope you're enjoying the story, and I'm interested to know: where do you want it to go? I mean, I basically know how I want it to end...but how I'm going to get there is a bit blurrier. A lot blurrier. Mostly, the book writes itself, but there are chapters, like this one, that I sort of dread writing. After writing it, I'm not so sure what I was scared of, but then again it might actually be complete shit and there was reason to be scared XP. I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I have to stay optimistic and believe that my chapters are at least shit and not complete shit.
So, yeah, just let me know if you have any ideas, comments, suggestions, ANYTHING AT ALL. Oh! And I want to start a QTC (Question of The Chapter). So this chapter it's going to be...what's your favorite song? Mine is "Dark Blue" by Jack's Mannequin.
Alrighty, just remember to stay amazing, and I'll see you later!
P.S. The song up there is "If It Means A Lot To You" by A Day To Remember