“Want me to go in with you?” Nick offers. Anyone else and I wouldn’t have even let him bring me here, but Nick has seen my home more times than I can count, so it’s pointless to hide it from him. I’m not sure why our moms have remained friends over the years, but it’s the one thing I’m grateful for. Their friendship was the only good part of my life growing up. Nick’s mom has always treated me like I’m her own daughter—always including me in their trips and holidays.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll be quick. Plus, we might come out and find your car to be missing.” I laugh humorlessly, and Nick rolls his eyes.
I jump out of the passenger seat and head up the sidewalk. My mom notices me and gives me a small smile. “Hey, pretty girl,” she coos. I bend at the waist and give her a kiss on her forehead. I want to hate her for this life—and many days it feels like I do—but then she smiles and calls me pretty girl and my heart breaks for her. She fell in love and got her heart broken. If you want to know what a broken heart is capable of, spend a day with my mom. It looks just like this: a once beautiful, vibrant woman who was full of life, burnt into ash. With wrinkles around her lips from smoking, and dark circles under her eyes from never feeling rested or content, she’s nothing more than the rubble left after the fire—which has ruined everything it’s come in contact with—has finally gone out.
I’ve never personally experienced the former version of my mother, but I’ve heard about the woman she used to be. And oftentimes, when I was younger, I’d wish that one day I would get to experience that woman for myself. But now that I’m older, I know that once something’s been burnt to ash, there is no coming back.
“What are you and Nick up to?” she asks, taking a hit of her joint and then passing it to Dale.
“Going to a party.”
“That was nice of him to come in for your graduation. Victoria said she’s going to host a gathering at her place for you afterward.”
“Sounds good,” I say, giving her a fake smile. “I’m going to go change.”
Stepping into the trailer, beads of sweat instantly surface on my skin. I check the thermostat and it shows eighty-nine degrees. I try the light switch to see if the AC is broken or if the electric is out. The light doesn’t come on. Damn it, Mom! She didn’t pay the electric bill. I try the water and no such luck. She didn’t pay that either. Looks like I’m going to have to dip into my savings to pay it. I have no clue what she’s going to do once I leave for New York, but my hope is that once I hit it big, I’ll be able to convince her to move with me, or at the very least, buy her a be›tter place to live in. Although, if I’m honest, I know she won’t allow either option to happen. That would mean moving out of this piece-of-shit place, and if she hasn’t moved yet, I doubt she ever will.
After changing into a cute yet sexy burgundy tank dress that Nick’s mom bought me for my eighteenth birthday last month, and sliding on a pair of cute wedges, I use a bottle of water to quickly brush my teeth, then head out.
When I step outside, the cool air sends goosebumps running up my arms. I give my mom a knowing look as I dab my forehead with a paper towel.
“Sorry,” she whispers, her face filled with apology. She’s said the word so many times over the years, it’s been desensitized.
Once I’m back in Nick’s car, he takes off to his friend Jared’s house, which is in the same gated community Nick’s parents live in. Apparently Jared’s parents are on a cruise and he has the house to himself. Most of Nick’s friends are still in college. The only reason he’s not is because he was drafted into the NFL at the end of his junior year and currently plays for Carolina. When we pull up, the street is already packed with expensive cars that line both sides of the road.
“How long do you give it until someone calls the cops?” I joke.
“Maybe another hour.” Nick laughs. We get out and head up to the front door. Nick doesn’t bother knocking since the music is thumping so loud no one would hear it anyway. It’s only nine o’clock, but it’s clear this party’s been going on for some time.
When we enter, it’s a typical rich kid party. Tons of expensive liquor everywhere. Guys dressed in Lacoste, and girls donning Louis Vuitton and Burberry. Nick might’ve gone all big brother on me over the years, but that didn’t stop me from finding my way into parties elsewhere, especially once he left last year for the NFL and couldn’t keep tabs on me. I follow Nick over to the large dining room table where several guys are playing poker. Chips are stacked high and hundred-dollar bills are being thrown around like they’re singles at a strip club.