Page 107 of The Other Side of Paradise
“I’m not beholden to her every bad mood because she’s my grandmother,” I shouted, stamping my foot as I turned to the others, “and neither is Ryan. Neither is my mother! She’s a bully, and you’re a bully, and Shane is a dirty-ass cheater, so if you all hate this, I’d say you get what you deserve!”
Grandma went so marble-white she looked like she’d faint, everybody else around suddenly chiming in all shouting over one another—some people yelling at me to sit my ass down andbehave and some people saying we could talk about thisaftera flight, a whole bunch of things that amounted toshut up and stop drawing attention,and when Aunt Helena cut in with a tearful protest, I was about to shout something else I probably shouldn’t have when Ryan stood up, swiftly enough and suddenly enough that it made everyone stop, staring at her. She spoke quietly, but in the kind of low voice that made everything else drop and commanded everyone’s attention anyway.
“I guess I should have stuck with the original plan,” she said. “Go on without me. I’ll find my own way back.”
Aunt Helena clenched her hands tighter, probably about to crush her poor husband’s fingers. “Ryan, you’re being ungrateful and immature right now—"
Ryan shot her a look that mademyblood run cold, and Aunt Helena flinched, eyes wide, panic in her face. “That’s fine by me,” Ryan said icily. “Let’s not do this again, Aunt Helena. I don’t think we need to talk anymore. You live your life, and I’ll live mine. You too, Grandma. Enjoy yourselves.”
She turned on her heel, walking away—not an angry storm, but a cold, coolheaded march at an even pace that got the attention of everybody in the terminal, and I wanted to cry and hug her and tell her I was sorry everyone was a fucking asshole and have her tell me she was sorry everyone was a fucking asshole too, and I squeezed my hands until they hurt and I shouted without thinking about it, “And I’m bisexual too, so thanks for the fucking support!”
I stormed after Ryan, the gate silent behind me as I marched, and I felt myself cracking down to nothing, my eyes burning with all the tears I’d been holding back since I’d left Allison’s house. Followed her around the corner and out to the baggage claim, where she slumped back against the wall, looking the most tired I’d ever seen her, and she gave me an inquisitive look.
“Hey,” she said softly, voice cracking at the edges. “You don’t need to march out in solidarity.”
“I’m marching out because I can’t stand this fucking family,” I said, my voice wavery and thin and whiny no matter how hard I tried to be cool and like I didn’t care, but Ryan didn’t need an explanation—she put out an arm for a hug, and I took it, stepping into her and wrapping her up in a hug that burned in my arms from how hard I was squeezing, buried my face in her collar and gritted my teeth, trying not to cry. It only made me cry harder.
“Let it out,” she said softly, squeezing me back. “You’re safe here.”
“It’s just… none of it’s fair,” I choked. “They’re always someaneven without saying anything, but since it’s without saying anything, it’s always like I’m the bad guy… for saying something… but none of them have ever given two shits about me. Nobody gives a fuck.”
She squeezed me tighter, and her voice wobbled with tears herself now too. Great. Guess we were both crying. What a mess. “They really don’t,” she said. “I can’t think of a day they haven’t tried to talk over you and dismiss you. No wonder you’ve gotten to be so loud.”
I choked on a laugh. “I thought you’d argue… all my friends do that. You know,oh, they’re your family, they love you, family’s just like that.”
I felt her shrug. “Your friends don’t know the family. I do. Love takes a lot of forms, but none of them look like that bullshit.”
Dammit, I’d never realized how much I’d needed to hear that. I let myself cry, just a little, choking on ugly sobs against her shirt, before I said thickly, “You’re the one who they’ve been harassing all this time and I’m the one crying on you…”
“Hey, I’m crying too,” she said with a thin little laugh, and I scowled against her.
“You don’t cry very hard.”
“You’re just louder than me in everything… including in coming out. You made a journey that took me ten years in about five days.”
I snorted. We really didn’t know how to compliment each other normally. “What’s it matter?” I sniffled. “They can’t hate me more. They might as well hate me for who I actually am.”
She paused. “Hey, Stella?”
“What?”
“Don’t quote me on this or expect me to ever say this again,” she said, voice small, “but I love you. Thanks for standing up for me.”
Shit, I was going to cry again. I hadn’t even stopped crying and I was going to start again. I laughed thickly. “You do not. You can barely stand me.”
“That too, but I also love you at the same time. Siblings, and all that.”
I gave her one more squeeze before I stepped back from the hug. “Yeah,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Love you too. This sucks. But I feel like I at least got a cool sister out of it.”
I saw the quiver in her face, trying not to cry, and she swallowed, putting on a smile. “You can go back, you know. I’m not going to make you rough it finding a way home together with me.”
I shook my head. “I cannot be on the same plane as those people. I’ll figure it out. We’ll both figure it out.”
A sound came down the hall after us before Ryan could say anything, and I turned back to where Mom came around the corner, Oscar in her wake. My body tightened, nerves making my stomach tumble sickly—I didn’t know which one made mychest feel tighter, that Mom was coming after us with that tearful look lighting up when she saw us, or that Dad didn’t.
“Oh, sweethearts,” Mom said, sweeping across the room towards us. Oscar didn’t seem to care much about any of this one way or the other, but Mom squished the two of us into a hug. “Oh, am I glad you didn’t already leave the airport. I’m so sorry. Oscar and I tried to smooth things over—”
“Turns out sarcasm wasn’t the approach,” Oscar said. Figured.
