Page 77 of Ominous: Part 1
You. Can’t.
How did she know? Does she see me so well?
I bring up my contacts from my steering wheel, watching the center console’s screen as I scroll through them.
I stop at her name.
I bite my lip, looking at those four letters.
Eden.
I dial her number before I can take it back, and I promise myself I won’t let it ring more than once. I glance at the light. Still red. Someone is fighting someone in the back of the stick figure van, hands slapping in the air, maybe over a car seat, I don’t know.
“What?”Her voice fills the cabin of my car, angry but low. Hushed, like I’m a secret.
I don’t care. I can be that. I can be anything for her.
I roll up all of my windows, not wanting to let her words slip away. “Do you know what your name means in Greek?” I ask, flexing my fingers on the wheel, my palm sweating on my gearshift as I think of where Mom went when she left me.
There’s a pause. Then, “No.” Dead even, she’s pissed. But she’s still right here.Right here.
“A state of innocence.” I lick my lips, thinking of her eyes. Her mass of dark hair. Slender fingers. The bow of her lips. How she smells.Two weeks,I said.
I’m so full of shit.
We skipped the small talk because two souls know when they’re conceived to collide. They don’t need an introduction. They just fucking ruin each other without a hello.
“I’m not innocent.”
I could’ve mimicked those words as she said them. Her tone, too, skeptical, haughty. “To me, you are.”
“What the fuck do you want, Eli—”
“I’m sorry.” I cut off her argument. I think of Mom turning her back to me. To Dad. I think of her walking out the fucking door.
Dad had to hold me back.
He’d never hit me before. We’d fought physically, but he’d never hit me until that night, after Mom walked out, heels clicking on the sidewalk, to the taxi at the bottom of the stairs.
She didn’t look back once.
I could see her through the windows of her cab.
She clicked her seatbelt on, and she turned her head away from me.
She didn’t look back. She just… left. Like she was… relieved to be away from me and all the problems I cause.
“I… I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say.I’m so fucking sorry.I still see Mom in my head.
There’s a pause. Then, “Okay.” Her voice is soft, but still lined with annoyance. I’m not entirely sure it’s with me. I think I hear someone with her. A man’s voice. I grit my teeth, visions of Mom clearing, but before I can ask anything, she says, “I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
And she ends the call without waiting for my goodbye.
I hit my palm against the steering wheel so hard the entire dashboard seems to jump.
I think of Mom driving away.
I never saw her after that. I still haven’t.
