Spencer's POV
"Spencer. Get off of the phone right now, we're eating." My mothers says a little roughly as I am sitting in the living room.
I sigh and that nervous feeling overcomes my body. Like it's taking over. It's been doing that for the past twenty-four hours.
"I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight Ashley." I say quietly into the phone so I don't get bitched at again.
Right before I am about to hang up I hear Ashley's hurt, rough voice. "Fine." And the line goes dead.
Is it possible to hate yourself more than any one else? More than the one person who is violently tearing your world apart? More than the one person who seems to make you weak and unable to just say what you feel, and feel what you say? It is making me sick to my stomach that I cannot just say the words to her. Tell my mother to Fuck off.
I want to say it. But I want to say it like I mean it. And that is what I am trying to work up towards.
Dinner is not good. I sit in silence, refusing to speak. My mother is blathering on about something or other; her job, church, whatever the hell is important to her.
But what about what's important to me?
My eyes move from my plate for the first time in what must be fifteen minutes. Glen is talking about his basketball game now. My eyes meet my father's and I see that his might be as sad as mine are. I feel my eyes get watery. They're kind of stinging and I look down again. Unable to stop the tear from coming down my cheek.
"Glen." I hear my father's voice say suddenly. My head snaps up to look at him and he has a weird expression in his face.
"Uh, yeah dad?" Glen says with his mouth full of pasta. He chews and takes sip of Gatorade.
My mother continues to just eat.
"Glen." My dad says again. "Is your sister happy?" He says evenly.
I glance at Glen and he looks surprised. He coughs a little on his Gatorade and I see my mother stop eating and look at my dad. I meet Glen's eyes and his blue ones look confused but knowing at the same time. Glen knows everything. I told him everything after it happened. I told him about the fight between me and Ashley. The fight that I am still trying to figure out in my head.
Glen blinks at me and then turns his head to look at our dad. "No." He says. "Spence isn't good."
My dad blinks at him and I see him give Glen a faint smile. "See this, Paula. You're making your daughter unhappy." He says extremely evenly. It's kind of scary. The words would seem like they would be used in a rough tone. But he strays from that and looks calm. Which, I think, give his words a bigger, more effective punch.
"Me? No I'm not, this can all be sorted out fine." She says in a stupid calm voice. But I see her eyes staring daggers at my dad.
My dad ignores her and his eyes meet mine. They look slightly larger through his glasses. But they look sad. Those eyes give me a little boost of confidence. Glen's words give me some confidence. And my dad makes me feel at ease, well, as at ease that I can feel right about now.
"No mom, you are." I stand up from my chair and she just looks at me. "You just sit there and eat your pasta, but know that you're making me sad." I say slowly and then I walk out of the room and up the stairs.
I want to say more. I want to scream and yell. But nothing more comes out and that's all that my throat can handle. I can feel myself steadily working my way up, though, to standing up to her. It would be cliché to say I just went ahead and told her off. I can't do that. Maybe some people can. But I can't. It's my mother. She will always be my mother. No matter what happens I can't change that. I don't want to lie to myself and say that I would be able to just waltz downstairs and bitch her out in the way she deserves to be. Not just yet.
Part of me desperately wants to do that. That part is asking, what are you waiting for, Spencer? You've screwed up enough already, don't screw up anymore. I don't think my heart can afford to screw up anymore. It hurts too badly already. And I know this is a fight that I have to handle with my mother. Yes, it has things to do with Ashley. But it also has things to do with just my mother and I. Will Ashley and I be together forever? I can't predict the future. And I can't have this situation happen time and time again. The only thing I know for sure is that I'm gay, and whatever happens to me for the rest of my life, whoever spends the rest of my life with me, that person will be a girl. A female. And that is the important part of this situation. The part I have to handle.
Or else I don't think I will be able to survive.
I have no energy left in me. So I just go to bed. I go to bed after I've cried for I don't know how long. Because there's school tomorrow. And school tomorrow involves Ashley. I know she's mad at me. And she has every right to be. I'm so mad at me too I can barely breathe. I also know that I'm mad at her. For things she said and things she didn't say. But I don't blame her for being pissed and upset with me.
I know I am a coward.
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I make my way nervously through the first part of my day in the morning cautiously. I don't see Ashley. I saw her car in the parking lot this morning but I haven't seen her at all. I don't see her the whole day. Not even at lunch and I don't get it. I don't know where she is. I avoid the picnic table at lunch after I see Ashley is not there. I don't feel like talking to anyone about this. So I keep to myself in the library. The air conditioning feels good, it feels as comfortable as I can get today.
I finally catch Ashley after school in the parking lot. And only because I wait by her car for her to come out of the school. I see her walking towards me on the grass, shades on, tight jeans, simple black t-shirt. Her hair almost looks reddish from the bright sun. In her right hand is a cigarette. She ashes it and takes a drag.
I inwardly frown to myself. I hate when she smokes and she knows it. But I know she's only smoking for serious reasons. Unless she's drunk, which I'm really hoping is not the case.
When she gets to me she just stands in front of me. Shades still on. Cigarette still in hand.
"Where were you all day?" I say as I break the uncomfortable silence that had enveloped us in a tight bubble.
She shrugs and flicks the cigarette away, after taking one last pull. "Skipped some classes." She slides her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. Her eyes look tired. I see her come towards me, and then she hesitates. Her eyes dart away and then back to mine, and I guess she finally decides to hug me.
I melt easily into her. It is amazing what one, just one, day apart can do. As horrible as this situation is, this simple hug is the best thing that has ever happened to me right now. I love this hug almost as much as I love her. But she smells like smoke. The smoke covers up some of the smell that is Ashley. I like the latter better.
Ashley finally lets go, having held on a little too long. We both did. She blinks slowly and looks at my shoulder. "Why did that feel like a goodbye hug." She states slowly, her eyes coming to mine. They're not as twinkly and bright as usual.
"It's not a goodbye hug. What." I say, confused by her statement.
"Then why did it feel like that." She says dully.
My heart is breaking into smaller pieces by the sound of her words. There is no push or passion in them, like there always is.
"It's not." I repeat strongly. "Ashley, we are not done, okay? This is ridiculous. Whatever happened, happened. But I am telling you now, that nothing is going to keep me from you." I tell her. And I didn't know that that is what I was going to say until the words fell out of my mouth.
"Did you tell her that?" Ashley asks me. Her brown eyes are probing mine.
Her. My mother.
I take a breath. "I, I just need time. But I will. I swear." I say, my voice is getting to the cracking point. I try to make it stronger.
I see Ashley swallow and she looks away. "Have you said those exact words to her yet?" She asks quietly.
I look at her, wishing her eyes would come back to me. The sun is making me hot and sweaty and uncomfortable.
"Wha- what words?" I ask.
"What you just said, that nothing is going to keep me from you." She repeats exactly what I just said a few seconds ago.
My heart starts to hurt in my chest. It's pounding kind of hard and I'm not enjoying it very much. "No." I say simply. Because I haven't. I have not said those exact words to my mother yet. I've said them to Ashley. But I have yet to say them to my mother. I am now realizing that Ashley is not going to believe those words until I speak them to the one woman that is hurting me.
Her.
Us.
Ashley nods, putting her sunglasses back on to hide her eyes. From the sun. Or perhaps from me.
"Let me, let me come w-with you." She says, stuttering.
I sigh. "This is not about you Ashley. This is something I have to do myself. Deal with this."
She hangs her head down. "You're right. Look Spencer, I'm so sorry for how I acted. All I want is you, and I was just scared."
She looks back at me and I think she's expecting me to come to her, to hug her. But I can't and I'm not really sure why. I don't say anything and we just stand there.
"Right." Ashley says, and she walks away from me. Just like I waked away from her when we were fighting on my front lawn. It seems forever ago, but really, it was only two days ago. And maybe I deserve to be walked away from. I watch her drive away fast, and I am still standing on the pavement, unable to move. My heartbeat is fast and I'm trying to take large gulps of air.
That was bad. That was not good at all.
But that is all it took. That conversation. Seeing Ashley walk away from me. That is what it took to snap me out of this stupid daze that I seemed to have been in.
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My heartbeat is, if at all possible, faster than it was in the parking lot talking to Ashley than it is now, in my dining room. It's so hard that my chest is puffing up and down. My mother is sitting at the table with a glass of milk. She looks up at me as soon I come into the room. The loud slamming of the door obviously startling her.
She looks back down at her magazine and says, without looking at me: "Spencer, there is no need to slam the door."
I actually feel my eyes flare and my whole conversation with Ashley, from just a short time before, flashes before my eyes.
"I don't care." I say through gritted teeth.
My mother's head snaps up. "Excuse me, Sp-" She starts to say but I cut her off. Harshly. And I see the anger spreading throughout her eyes and in her face.
"No. I have some talking to do right now. And you're going to listen to me. Look, mother, I know you think that I'm doing this horrible thing by being gay. That you don't like Ashley and you won't tolerate me having a girlfriend. Well you know what? I didn't choose to be like this, and to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't have chosen any other way. Because I love Ashley. And she is the one person who has always loved me unconditionally."
I take a breath and my mother goes to open her mouth, but I keep talking. Thinking that if I stop, I might never be able to start up again.
"I want you to know, that nothing is going to keep me from her. Nothing. I'm gay, mom. And you being like this, it's hurting me so much you have no idea. You're my mother, and the fact that you won't accept this, or let me be happy, is breaking my heart. What's left of it at least. Why are you sitting here, making your only daughter miserable? I love you, mom. I always will. But right now, it is only because I have to. Not because I want to."
I stop talking and my eyes are burning into hers. Her face is showing shock and confusion. I feel, for the millionth time in the past few days, a lone tear fall down my face. And I feel like a total idiot for smiling slightly. But I can't help it.
Because every single thing I just said was true. And it needed to be said. And if I'm cocky for being insanely proud of myself, then so be it.
Better late than never, right?
With that, I turn swiftly around and go to my room. My mother does not follow me. She doesn't say anything at all. Not for the rest of the day. I thought she might at least yell. I guess she doesn't even care enough to yell at me about it.
I don't know what else to do now, so I just go to sleep. And the fact that my mother doesn't even care enough to yell at me. To say anything in response to me. That, mixed with everything else, makes me cry myself to sleep.