Page 2 of Calavera Society

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.

Me: Calmaté wey, I’ll be there. No sweat.

I tuck my phone away and turn, walking through the living room and into the kitchen where my mom sits at the table with a glass of red wine, the only kind she drinks. It’s also the one she drinks when she’s pissed off or worried, judging by the look on her face, I’d sayworryis the cause tonight.

“‘Worrying is like paying interest on a debt you may never owe.’” I tell her as I slide into the chair across from her.

She gives me a humorless smile, “Mark Twain may have let his worries blow away with the wind, but I’m not him,mija.”

I watch her take a generous gulp from her glass, my index finger instantly digging into the side of my thumb nail as a sense of unease washes over me. Usually, my mom just gets right to the point, ripping the band aid off and all that jazz. Like the time our finances went a little thin in the skin and she told me I wouldn’t be able to take piano lessons anymore, I could tell she was sick to her stomach at having to admit that, but she did it without stalling. This moment of hesitation has my skin crawling.

“¿Qué pasa?” What’s wrong?

Instead of answering me, she asks her own question, “Have you thought about Coventry University?”

I roll my eyes, “Why do you want me to go to that place so badly, mama? What if I wanna go to a community college or hell, what if I wanted to become a church nun?”

My mother’s resting bitch face has me shutting up and slouching in my seat.

“First of all, you’re too wild for a vow of celibacy, the church would toss you out in a week.” I shrug my shoulders,she ain’t wrong,“Secondly, this is very important to me, to your future,mija.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes again or make a snarky comment and sigh, “I have thought about it,” I sit up and fold my hands on the table in front of me, “and I’m not going. I was thinking of taking a break from school for a year so I can help out around here. I know I wasn’t able to find a job this summer, but once school starts back up, there’ll be more openings an—”

I shut up when mom lifts a shaky hand to her forehead, rubbing her temples deeply with her finger and thumb before taking another generous drink from her glass.

“I wanted you to choose it for yourself, but it’s already been done.” She mumbles vaguely.

The hairs on my arms rise at her words, her downcast face, the wine she only drinks when upset…

“What do you mean, mom?” I ask her, needing to hear the confirmation.

With a shaky voice, my mother shatters my life. With only a few breaths, my world turns on its axis.

“It was decided for you long ago that once you reached your Quinceañera, you would be moved to Coventry so that you may learn your history. I convinced your father to let me keep you longer and he agreed. I was allowed to keep you until you were eighteen, but seeing as you're an October baby, and college starts in August, you’ll have to leave early. I wish I could say it was up to me because if it were, you’d never set foot in Coventry, but it’s not and everything is already paid for including your dorm and entire first year.

“You’ll have your own car to get around and all of your necessary electronics have been purchased as well. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner, but your father insisted on telling you himself, but of course he didn’t and left it up to me—” she stops herself mid-rant, taking a deep breath to calm herself, only to break into a sob as my mind floats a million miles away - eight hundred and forty-eight miles to be exact. My dad decidedmylifefor me.Allowedmy mother to keep me? Putconditionson a mother over her only child? The eternal bachelor himself wants his only child to invade his life after all this time of fucking off while mom picked up the slack? Fuck no. Absofuckinglutely not. I loved my dad when I was a little naive girl, but that love disintegrated the day he walked out of our lives without a glance back. He can go straight to hell with his demands. Who the crap does he think he is?

“I hope you told him to suck your spiritual cock, ma. He can fuck right off with all that bullshit just like he did when he walked out of here and left you to work two jobs just to pay for my basketball uniform. Where was he then, huh? Fuck that and fuck him; I’m not going to Coventry just because he demands it.”

My mom takes another big gulp from her wine glass, and it pisses me off like nothing else. Now he’s even got her drinking like it’s her last day with—

“Wait, when is this asshat expecting me, huh? Does he think I’m some piece of shit who will drop you like deadweight just like he did?”

“Valeria!” She snaps at me, like he deserves to be defended.

“Mother!” I growl right back, making her audibly sigh and reach for the bottle for a refill but I snatch it away.

“Don’t sit there and try to defend his sorry ass when he left you all alone to raise the child he helped bring into the world. You taught me to never make excuses for some asshole’s actions, so practice what you damn well preach!”

The whooshing of the air is all the warning I get before my mother’s open palm stings across my face. My French braids swing across my throat with my momentum, lassoing around my neck like a fucking noose as I stand there in shock. My mom has never hit me before.

By the look on her face, tears hanging off her lashes, her shaking hand -which I know hurts because she’s got some weak veins- I know she’s shocked herself as well. She steps forward to apologize, but I step away, holding my hands up to stop her from coming near me.

“If only you had the balls to slap that asshole like you did me, maybe we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Instead, you coward out. But hey, slap your daughter, right? Slap the only person who has been with you through thick and thin.”

I laugh humorlessly as I walk backwards, my shoulders rising and falling with angry breaths. I spin on my heel and yank my jean jacket off the stair railing before racing to the door, all while ignoring my mother’s sobbing pleas for forgiveness.

Of course, I’ll forgive her, how can I not? But right now…fuck, I can’t even look at her. I need a drink, a blunt, and someone to distract me. In whatever order they come, I need it.