TWO WEEKS LATER
I woke up to the birds chirping and the sun trying to blind me through the window. I wiped my eyes, getting the crust from the corners before deciding to just get dressed for the day. So, I walked to the bathroom and did all my hygiene stuff. Noticing the time, I wrapped a robe around my body and went to my Mom's room. She lied in bed, not yet ready to get out of it. Still, I had to wake her up and give her her pills. She did it, not giving me the same problems as when I first came. I sat on the floor by her bed, fighting the tears to not come out my eyes. Two weeks later, and I can't help but cry whenever I see her.
It's been two weeks of nonstop chemotherapy and pills. Doctor visits every other day where I have to sit and hear Doctors telling us they see no improvement. I have to brush her hair and see little pieces coming out. I have to rush to her room when she throws up and see tints of red. Worry about her fading in and out of consciousness because they constantly change her pill dosage and brand. But if I don't do it, who will?
"Happy birthday." I heard her say, voice still having remnants of sleep.
"Thank you." I responded, but what was happy about it? I was finally eighteen, but worrying when would be my Mom's last day.
"What do you want to do today?" She sat up in the bed, swinging her feet off the side. I could tell she felt some strength in her muscles.
"Nothing." I replied, laying my head on her bed. It bent my neck at a weird angle, but for whatever reason it comforted me. I felt her hands combing through my hair.
"Let's at least go to breakfast." Birthdays were never a huge thing in our house, so she wasn't going to make a big deal over me not wanting to do anything.
"Okay. You're getting yourself ready?"
"I do not want you seeing my goods." I laughed at her goofiness, knowing she felt better today than she did yesterday. Yesterday she wouldn't even talk or eat. I had to threaten her by saying I would take her to the Doctor where they would shove a tube down her throat. Still, she took baby bites.
My phone rung an unfamiliar tone and I looked at the Caller ID to see it was Leslie. I pressed ignore without a second guess.
"You know," My Mom was now in her closet, rummaging through piles of clothes. "You can't ignore that boy forever."
Over the last couple weeks, I've managed to slowly tell my Mom everything that's happened over the tour. I rarely kept stuff from my Mom now, so form my first confrontation with Camilla to giving the letter to Calvin-she knew everything. Of course, she gave me an entire lecture, a very tearful one, on letting my past affect my future, but it ended prematurely. Neither of us liked to remember it, so when sobs and boo-hoo's started, the conversation was dropped like an apple with maggots.
"But I can try to." I responded, standing up and walking over to her closet.
She looked at me with a straight face, but even I could see the smile tugging at her lips. "You are my stubborn child."
"I'm your only child!” I laughed. "Plus, it wasn't even him this time. It was Leslie."
"Her either! God, am I going to have to force you to talk to these people?"
"Technically, I'm eighteen so it wouldn't be force- but a choice. And I'm not ignoring all of them. I just talked to Star last night!"
"You know what I mean."
"Okay...okay, you're right. But how?"
That had been the question left unanswered whenever Calvin called my phone. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to him, but I refused to have the conversation I know we need over the phone. Plus, I'm worried about how he's going to react. Like, will he be mad at me for holding out for so long? Will he be mad at my Mom, like so many people were when they didn't know the full story, for letting it go on for so long? Was I really ready to face him after that? No one else knew about what happened with my Dad outside of family. I mean, we moved to a completely different neighborhood after the fact just to prevent questioning, and I remember my Mom almost going bankrupt to pay off reporters to keep it private since my Dad was a police officer.
"That is a question I cannot answer for you." She threw some clothes over her shoulder and went to her bathroom, leaving me there.
I rubbed off the feeling, figuratively of course, and went back to my room. Hopefully, Prodigy will give up soon. I never have to see any of them again if I don't want to, and maybe it's for the best. I'm far too complex and messed up and demented for someone else to deal with, and it's absolutely selfish to expect someone else to deal with it. At least it's what I tried to tell myself.
After rummaging through my closet and drawers, I finally found a nice, simple outfit, It was a lilac colored short sleeve with "Love Amour Adore" on the front and a denim pair of jeggings with black ballet flats. I tied my hair in a loose ponytail. It was plain and simple, exactly how I felt today. My Mom was ready shortly after me and I drove us to iHop. It wasn't fancy and it wasn't overly crowded, which was a plus. All I really wanted was to lay- low, which, of course, didn't happen at all.
While we were waiting on the check, and my Mom was taking constant photos of me to upload on her page, resulting in me holding a menu up to cover my face, we were approached my a group of two. They were both girls and appeared to be a year or two younger than me.
"See, I told you it was her!" Girl one, sporting a purple shirt and cheerleader ponytail.
"I never said it wasn't I said she probably doesn't want to be bothered." Girl Two responded. I knew I would like her just from how her sentence was playful, sarcastic, and filled with truth.
"Nah,I'm good." I responded, rubbing my hands on my legs. I then grimaced at my Mom as she managed to snap another picture. "Could you at least get my good side?" I asked her.
"What's the fun in that?" She asked, typing on her phone. I quickly felt my phone vibrate and I knew she just posted the picture.
"So," I turned back to the fans. "What's up?"
"We just wanted to say Happy Birthday and give you this." Girl One handed me a pink sequined gift bag. I opened it to see an assortment of candy and a large water bottle.
I laughed, automatically remembering the interview from a few weeks ago. The person asked what was something we were dying to have and I said candy, because Leslie wouldn't let me buy any, and a personal water bottle because one of the boys always managed to mistake mine for theirs in rehearsal.
"Thank you." I said, getting up to hug both of them.
"Can we get a picture, please?" Girl Two asked.
"Sure." I took a picture with each of them, and then my Mom started taking pictures again.
Soon, more people started to come in the restaurant and before i knew it there was a line. I internally sighed because the manager ended up having to block more people form coming in. I loved the fans, but this was too much. All I wanted was peace and quiet, and that turned into a bunch of teens and tweens occupying the previously empty restaurant. Two hours had passed before everyone got their picture, and by then I had to stop it because we needed to get back to the house. My Mom needed to take her medicine and she left it at home, expecting this to be a short trip.
"Sorry, Guys, but I have to leave." I said, feeling a little guilty at the several groans that filled the store.
"Are you going to be at the show tonight?" Someone yelled from the back, and it froze the breathe in my throat. What show tonight? There wasn't a show tonight.
Sitting in the car, I took out my phone and checked the date. There, clear as day in my schedule, was the last day of tour marked in big letters. I completely forgot the tour was over tonight and that meant everyone would be back in California. I completely forgot.
I drove us home in sort of a rush because my Mom needed her medicine. Still, I had to make a few false turns to make sure no one was following us from the restaurant. We did get home though, with twenty minutes before my Mom had to take her medicine.
"Why are you looking like that?" I asked as I searched for my keys in my purse.
"Like what?" I found my keys and began opening the door.
"You have the same smirk you have whenever you've done something I might not like but you do. Mom, what did you-"
I stopped short, looking at the three people in my house.
Micah
Jailee
And Calvin
I didn't know who to be mad at, my Mom for doing this, knowing I didn't know how to face him, or myself for not expecting her to do something like this. I wanted to go in my room, tuck myself in my covers, and wake up for this all to be a dream. But in order to do that, I actually had to walk pass the people standing there, and after several blinks I realized two things.
One: I was still standing here.
Two: my eyes were moist with tears.
Not even able to do anything, I stood there like a puppet as Calvin came up and wrapped his arms around my waist. It was my Mom who decided to come and wrap mine around his neck, and I just started to cry. I don't even know why, maybe it was because this showed he wasn't going to leave me. Maybe.
"Oh my god." I said, minutes later when I pulled back to close the door. "Mom, you couldn't have warned me?"
"Why?" She asked playfully. "So you could disappear for the entire three days? No way, I know you."
"Well I'm my Mother's Child." I laughed.
"So, am I invisible now?" Jailee asked in a mock distress voice. "I didn't put my as son a five hour flight to be ignored."
"Oh shut up." I replied, walking over to her and wrapping my arms to hug her.
"Happy Birthday!" I was so glad to hear her voice in person, all perky and sunshiny. Since I walked in that smile never left her face, revealing her cheek dimple.
"Thank you." I said.
"Oh, I see how it is." Micah’s voice rang through the living room. "I should have stayed in the hotel room."
"Yeah, maybe you should have." I rebutted.
"Ugh, I missed your smart mouth all the time." He engulfed in a hug, my chin colliding with his chest. Was he always this much taller than me?
"I missed y'all too." I responded, struggling for breathe. "Um, Micah? Do you really want to kill me on my birthday?"
"Oh, yeah."
He aggressively shoved me back, sending me flying right back to where I started: in Calvin’s arms. Well, if he didn't catch me I would have fell on the floor and bust my head on the wood.
"I so wish you stayed in the hotel now." I stood up, attempting to step away from Calvin. That, of course, didn't happen when he took my hand and pulled me away from the crowd. I looked back at the crowd to see Micah already in his phone, my Mom giving me an 'I-told-you-so' look, and Star winking at me. We stopped at the base of the stairs where he gently pressed me against the wall, his hands on my waist to keep me from moving.
"A letter, Desiree? Really?" He asked.
I looked down at my feet. "What?"
"You couldn't just tell me what happened? Do you want to even know how much we had to pay the hotel?" I looked at him with my eyebrows drew in, not sure what he was talking about. Noticing my confusion, he elaborated. "After I read that letter, I trashed the hotel room imagining it was that sick fuck. And then I punched Matthew when he said some smart shit about you. And then I broke down to my Mom when you wouldn't pick up your damn phone."
I don't know what it was, but his calm voice as he spoke sent chills through my body. Does he ever yell? "I'm sorry." I spoke after finally registering his words. "I...I didn't know how to tell you, okay? I always wanted to tell you, but the words would end up mushed in my throat, and after I said what I did to you, I felt horrible. And you didn't deserve hat, and I don't deserve you but for whatever reason you want me and that makes me feel like even more of a bitch for ignoring you. I am so sorry."
"I'm not mad at you." He said, sighing. "I'm mad at myself for not being more patient with you."
"If you were any more patient we would have gotten nowhere. I needed the reality check, and you don't understand how much better it's made me feel about the situation. You just don't know how much I hated myself for that. For everything. But now...I realize it wasn't me, and I should just let it go and-"
I was interrupted by his lips on mine. The action shocked me for a second, but eventually I kissed back. My hand went to the back of his head, pulling his head lower down as he pulled my body closer to him. I don't know how long it lasted before we pulled apart, both breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry. So, so sorry." I whispered to him, one of my finger tracing his lips. He didn't speak, and instead pushed my head down to rest on his chest. I didn't even realize how much I missed him until now.
"So," I plopped down on the couch next to Jailee. Micah and Calvin had left an hour ago to get ready with the boys for the concert tonight, with it being the last one and all. We were going to meet them at the venue within the next two hours. "What's going on in Star's world?"
"Usually, I would say nothing, but we both know that would be a lie." She sipped from her glass of lemonade. "So...my Mom put me in a regular therapy and a group therapy. The regular one just for me and the group for others who attempted suicide. I have absolutely no privacy because my Dad took my door off the hinges and put it in the basement. Every five minutes my Mom comes to check on me in my room. My Mom deactivated all of my social media and savages my room every day for anything I could use to hurt myself." To anyone else this would sound crazy, but being in her place before, I knew how it really was, and every step was necessary. "But...I'm getting better, I think. I'm not really sure because I haven't seen them so...I'm not really sure how that'll make me feel."
"Them?" I asked, pretty sure a perplexed expression was covering my face. "What?"
She sighed heavily. "So, remember when I told you I found out who Matthew had been cheating on me with?" I nodded my head in response. "Well...he was cheating on me with Breaunna. I saw them kissing in rehearsals that day."