Page 70 of Quarantined
Thisisn'ta close call. This isthecall—the wake-up call I have been anticipating.
Turning the corner towards my room, I rush inside and shut the door. It feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over me, jolting my libido.
Unsure of what to do, I spend the remaining morning locked in my room. Milo left earlier this morning. I have a vague recollection of being woken up at an ungodly hour to be kissed goodbye. He is going out of town for a few days to meet with investors.
He is skipping his lectures for the week and told me that the nanny would be staying here to take care of any household related chores. When I found out that I have no household responsibilities for the week and that Milo wouldn't be around, I cleared my schedule completely. I have been waiting for an opportunity to take some serious time to think clearly. I need to analyze the situation with Milo, without being fogged by teenage hormonal lust.
Given that Mia caught me sneaking out of Milo's room this morning, my focus has shifted. I need to think. I need to talk to someone. But who?
I can't talk to Reid about this.
I certainly can't talk to Mia about this.
My dad doesn't return my calls.
My mom barely texts me back.
I can't talk to any of my school or family friends about it.
Milo is engulfed in my life. Everyone in my life knows him and how we are related. The thought of anyone finding out about our intimate moments makes bile rise from my throat. As great as the physical connection is, I can barely even admit it to myself. I'd be horrified if others knew.
I can't even talk to Milo. I have no idea how to talk to him anymore. Which leaves me feeling… lonely. It's something I loathe.
I don't mind being alone. I quite often enjoy my own space. Being creative. Doing things only I like.
But I hatefeelinglonely. The feeling of not having someone to talk to, it’s like I can't bare my soul or true self to someone.
After this summer, I thought things would be different with my parents. But they broke my heart all over again—both of them. Sex with Milo has been filling that hollowness in my heart. Despite Reid, Mia, and all the friends I have, attention from Milo or my parents is irreplaceable for me. As a result, I have been overlooking all my other concerns, my shame, my reluctance.
But this, this I can't ignore. I am lonely once more, and this time it’s because of Milo.
When my parents broke me, Milo picked up the pieces. My parents broke me all over again, and this time Milo's consolation was sex. It worked for a little while. But now I just want things to go back to how it was before.
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. "Hey, can I come in?" Mia peeks in. In all the time I have lived here, she has never asked my permission to come in.
She knows.
"Of course," I say in a small voice, bracing myself for what’s to come.
I don't know what I will do if she confronts me about this. I try to calm myself down. Mia is only thirteen. How much of this adult stuff can she understand? I think back to myself at thirteen and realize she knows enough. A lot of girls in my grade were already having sex at thirteen. New York City is the fastest city in the world, and the kids are just as fast.
"What were you really doing in Milo's room this morning?" Mia gets right to the point.
"I told you…" I don't get to finish before Mia cuts me off.
"Cut the shit, Raven." My eyes almost bug out. For the second time, a second Sinclair has spoken to me in a way they never did before.
"Do you think I am stupid? I know that you and Milo are hooking up."
This is it—the point of no return. Lost for words, I just stare at her.
She must hate how I am looking at her. She snaps, "Have you guys fucked yet?"
"What? Of course not." I respond without thinking. I am shocked at my own lack of hesitation with the lie. I have never straight up lied to Mia before. She knows that I don't lie to her. But right now, I am desperate. Mia can't know. If Mia knows, then this becomes my truth. I can't pretend anymore that the whole thing with Milo is a misunderstanding, or that it's not real.
Mia eyes me suspiciously, assessing if she believes my words. "I came to your room in the middle of the night, but you weren't there. I searched all over, then heard your voice coming from Milo's room. Milo always makes a point to keep the door wide open, when you are in there. When I saw the door was closed… it didn't seem innocent. Then I saw you in Milo's shirt."
I am mortified. We tried so hard to shield Mia from all of our crude behavior. Not only did we expose her to it, but we also did it in the most hypocritical way possible.
