Page 26 of Becoming Us
Fine.
Fuck this.
I stormed to my room and dropped into the chair by the desk, pulling out my phone, ready to come up with some excuse for her. Why did she only want to play mother when it suited her? When I actually needed something, she vanished. This wasn’t what a mom was…right? Moms were supposed to do the responsible things, not pretend they were your age and turn everything into a fucking competition.
My eyes stung, but I blinked hard, forcing it down. I wasn’t going to cry over this. Not again.
The door slammed into the wall with a sharp bang.
My heart jumped and I pressed my phone to my chest.
She stood in the doorway. Face flushed. Eyes blazing. She was really fucking pissed. And for a second, it scared me more than it should have. I had the urge to run.
“You think the whole fucking world revolves around you.”
“Mom, what?—”
“You say the word, and everyone has to drop what they’re doing to give you what you want.” She talked over me, her tone leaving no space for argument. “Because Noah said so, right? Everyone has to stop and run.”
She moved closer, the energy radiating off her sharp enough to make me shrink in my seat.
I opened my mouth, tried to speak—but nothing came out. The words stuck in my throat.
“Do you ever stop to think that I have a life outside of you?” Her voice climbed. “Or do I just have to be at your beck and call all the time? Because it’s the Noah Show, right? Noah, the bigstar. Whatever Noah wants, Noah gets. But it’s never enough. All you do is take, take, take. You want the money?”
I stared at her, speechless. “It’s not about the money—it’s the seats—” The words barely escaped before something hit me in the face.
It didn’t hurt. It was the shock that made me flinch, squeeze my eyes shut, and throw my hands up, my phone clattering noisily to the floor.
When I opened them and looked down, bills were scattered across my lap.
She’d thrown cash at me.
She’d thrown a wad of cash in my face.
My hands trembled. My eyes stung.
Slowly, I stood, the money sliding from my lap, fluttering to the floor, their soft sounds filling the silence around me.
“There,” she hissed. “Your fucking seats. Happy now? The world can keep spinning around you. You’re such an ungrateful little shit. This is why nobody in this house can stand you. You suck the air out of every room you’re in.”
I stared at the floor, jaw clenched, every muscle pulled tight.
Then—
A sniffle.
“You see what you make me do?” Her voice cracked.
When I looked up, tears streaked her cheeks, and my chest twisted.
“I’m always the bad guy. The worst mom. Isn’t that right?”
I shook my head and stepped forward, wiping her tears away with the pads of my thumbs. “I’m sorry.” My voice sounded foreign. Small and broken.
She sniffed again, giving me a faint shake of her head. The warm trail of her tears clung to my skin.
“Noah.”
