Page 96 of The Midseason Fakeout

The contents of my stomach slosh around as I fill a glass from the cupboard with water and offer it to her. She peers at the cup, looking inside like she’s going to find something gross floating in the contents. Without drinking, she sets the glass on the table.

Internally, I bet myself five dollars she won’t even take a sip. A cold sweat starts to form on my forehead. She’s being even more snooty than I imagined.

“How long are you staying?” I ask, standing in front of her. “Should I make lunch reservations? There are a couple really great places downtown to eat.”

She sneers, and all the pretense she walked in here with vanishes. “Bailey, I don’t understand what game this is, but I’m done playing it. I came here for one reason: to take you home.”

“Mom,” Darrin sighs. “You said you’d give her the semester.”

I put my hand up. Even though a hollow hole has opened up in my stomach, I trudge forward because she needs to know I don’t want that. Maybe if I explain it to her… “No, I expected this.”

“Of course you did.” She smiles, peering at me hopefully. “Because you know what’s best for you. I agreed to this so—”

“Being here is best for me,” I interrupt. Nerves skate over my skin until I’m buzzing. “I’m staying at Warner. Darrin told me you matriculated us at Carnegie, well, you can rescind my application. I choose to stay here.”

My mother laughs abruptly, but she still has that air of sweetness about her like all she has to do is make me see her way and I’ll be agreeable again. “I know youthinkyou want to stay. I feel for you, I do. Your father and I have made the decision, though. You’re coming home to prepare for Carnegie.”

“Mom, you can’t make decisions for me anymore. I’m an adult.”

She glances down at the water, twisting the glass in circles on the table. “An adult screaming at football games? Whose boyfriend answers her phone calls at an ungodly hour? That’s not you, Bailey Covington. I certainly didn’t bring you up that way.”

“I apologize for answering her phone,” Aidan states. My heart clenches when he talks. His voice cracks, and I look over to see real worry on his face.

I try to send him a reminder with my eyes that I’m handling this, but he glances away. I wish I could go to him, but that might make things worse right now.

My mother straightens her shoulders. “I’m worried about the lasting impact this…place will have on you. The both of you,” Mom says as she focuses on Darrin and me.

“What’s so bad about me cheering my boyfriend on at a football game? Come on. It was a little paint on my face. It was fun.”

“It was tasteless.”

“Mom.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “I just want more for you.”

“So, you want me to play in the football games instead of watching?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You’re losing sight of what’s really important, sweetheart. It’s not boyfriends and football games. Your future is on the line, and you’re getting entangled in things that don’t serve that.”

She means Aidan. My heart thumps. She really does have a problem with him, of what he represents. Anger builds in me. The arrogance wafting off her turns my stomach. How can she place such high importance on our life back home? Darrin and I are happy here. “You’re worried about my future…” Wave after wave of indignation crash into me. She’s being willfully blind to the facts. “What about the lasting impact Darrin had from taking too many pills? That happened onyourwatch. Not here.”

Mom gasps. My words cut like a battle ax, and for a moment, it feels amazing, but within seconds, my mother’s eyes turn glassy. Her fingers flex in her lap, and that’s the only tell that shows I’ve shocked her. Not only by my knowledge of what happened to my brother, but that I would actually say it. “You’re throwing Darrin’s suicide attempt in my face? How peculiar.”

“What’s peculiar is that you never told me, and I beg you to see that he’s actually happy here. We both are.”

She swallows, shaking her head a little like she’s trying to rid herself of my words. “I’ve always wanted the best for you both.”

“She knows that, Mom.” Darrin shoots me a threatening look and moves to rub her back.

Emotional blackmail. She’s going to act like the victim now, and dammit, I should’ve kept my anger in check.

My mom isn’t a terrible person, she just knows how to work angles. This is an angle to her now. Once she gets her way, she’ll be all smiles again. But her smiles are only façades—perfect but laced with barbed wire.

“I’m only pointing out that Mom might not have a good grasp on what’s actually best for us.”

“And Aidan is what’s best for you?” my mother argues, grabbing a tissue out of her purse. “You’re going to ruin your future for a boy?”

Aidan grimaces, and I move next to him to reach for his hand. “No, I’m making decisions for myself. If I fail, it’s on me. If I thrive, it’s on me.”

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