Was she really just pretending? Was I so blindsided by finally feeling like someone saw me that I didn’t notice that she never wanted anything to do with me? Or at least nothing that wasn’t physical?
I never wanted to make Denise think she had to want something she wasn’t interested in, but that’s the thing. It wasn’t clear. One moment she’d pull me in, the next she was pushing me away. And I’ll admit, I liked the chase. The hitch in her breath when I stood too close or the smile she’d try to hold back when I never bothered to hide how obsessed I was with her.
I swore there was more. Thatwewere more.
But like I told Preston, I can’t make her want me. Can’t coax her into jumping into something she has no interest in even dipping her toe into. I can’t hold it against her and I would never make her feel bad for being honest.
Thanks for being cool about it.
I squeeze my eyes shut as her words from earlier today ring in my ears.
Cool?
Yeah. Sure.
I’ll play the part, just like I always do.
Twenty
Denise
“You’re late.” Mom doesn’t even bother with greeting me when I enter the kitchen of her and Brian’s house.
She’s aggressively wiping the marble counters with a rag. Her usually neatly done blonde hair is frizzing up, as if she ran her fingers through it way too many times. Brian is standing near the fridge, putting away what I assume are the leftovers of the dinner I missed.
In my defense, I didn’t actually want to come. I just wanted them to stop asking.
I lean on the counter, my arms crossed. “Well, considering I wasn’t even planning on coming…you’re welcome.”
She stops cleaning, throwing the towel onto the counter. “I don’t know how to help you, Denise. If I could take this pain from you, I would.” Her voice cracks. “Just tell me what to do. Tell us how we can help you.”
My breath hitches in the back of my throat at her sudden confession. Brian gently steps closer, resting his hand on the small of my mother’s back.
“We’re just worried about you, Denise. We want to make sure you’re okay. Your dad says you’ve barely even talked to him.”
My eyes narrow and my entire body freezes. I’m still for a moment, looking back and forth between Brian and my mom. I knew coming here would lead to this sort of conversation. It’s why I’ve avoided coming for so long.
“Right,” I scoff, pushing off the counter, running my hands through my hair to keep from storming out of the room. Honestly, that might be the best option right now, considering I’m on a roll of saying shitty things to people I care about. “Because we’re the fucking Brady Bunch. What on earth would you guys even talk about?”
“You and Amiyah,” Brian admits.
My pacing stops, taking a step back away from both of them. “Why?”
My mother laughs but there’s no humor. “Because we love you.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. Yeah, maybe a little too much.
“We’re just worried,” Brian adds softly.
“Oh my god,” I groan. “What is it with you guys? Amiyah and I are fine.”
“It’s not Amiyah we’re worried about.” Mom raises her voice.
My head snaps in their direction, jaw tightening. “You know, just because I’m not smiling and laughing all the time like you two, doesn’t mean I’m not happy.”
“Are you?” Brian asks.
“You don’t know me, Brian.”