My body slumped. I dragged myself to the car and collapsed into the passenger seat.
“Where the heck have you been, Aria?! I’ve been waiting here for over thirty minutes and you haven’t been answering your phone!” she hissed, annoyed with my tardiness. “Do you know what kind of stress you’ve been putting on us? Your father is on the edge of a breakdown, I had to make way too many calls to get you set up with a great therapist, Ms. Franks can only watch Grace and KitKat until six, I have to work third shift at the hospital tonight, and you have an appointment in five minutes across town and now we are going to be late!”
I looked up at her and my mind tried to form words about how much of a shitty day I’d just experienced. I wanted to unload all of my emotional garbage into her lap but the thoughts in my head were all just turning into a giant mess.
My bottom lip trembled as I locked eyes with Mom. Her stare softened from her irritation. She nodded once, and only once, in understanding. “Okay,” she whispered, unbuckling her seatbelt and moving closer to me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and she pulled me into her side. “Okay.”
I sobbed uncontrollably into her side.
And she didn’t let go.
7 Levi
I wasn’t a stranger to panic attacks. I’d watched Mom fall into them all the time growing up. They had a way of engulfing a person, swallowing them whole and spitting them out to the point that they weren’t recognizable. That was why I had to check on Aria in the bathroom. I had to know she was okay, because I’d seen the fallout of people when they weren’t all right due to their own minds.
Aria’s eyes were sad, the same way Mom’s always were.
The same way mine would be if I didn’t hide it so well.
I’d become great at smiles. I hid behind them to make sure no one ever realized how shitty my life was. Smiling was a way to avoid people asking questions. I hated the questions I was always asked when I traveled into town back in Alabama. I hated them almost as bad as I hated the stares and whispers.
The stares and whispers were the worst of all.
* * *
“It’s about time you stopped by,” Lance said as I walked into Soulful Things. He inherited the music shop right in the heart of downtown Mayfair Heights after my grandparents passed away. Lance was a few years older than my dad, but looked decades younger. He was a weird hippie kind of guy who was married to a weirder hippie woman named Daisy.
I wasn’t sure if Daisy was her real name or if she just did enough drugs to actually believe she was a flower. Plus, she was always wearing bright yellow, which fit with her super bright and spunky personality. She taught 5:00 A.M. yoga classes on the rooftop of the store seven days a week up until winter moved in, when the classes were relocated to the high school’s gymnasium.
Lance sipped on his green drink, which he’d probably made from grass and dirt, while he set up the window display with a new drum set. “How was the first day of hell?”
“School was good,” I replied. “Hellish, but good.”
He smiled. His long brown hair was tossed on the top of his head in what he liked to call a manly-bun, and he kept combing fallen pieces back. “And how’s big brother Kent treating you? Is that going over well?”
“It’s good,” I lied.
“That tough, huh?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out cash. “Here’s some money for groceries. I’m guessing Kent mostly has TV dinners. Just try to buy organic when you can.”
“Thanks, but he actually stocked up the fridge.”
“Really?” His eyes widened. “That’s…that’s surprising. Awesome. But just so you know, you’re always welcome over to our house for dinner,” he offered. “Tonight Daisy’s making meatless meatballs and a kale salad.”
“Oh man, not meatless meatballs and kale salad!” I sarcastically sighed. “That’s totally my favorite meal. I would stop by, but I have way too much homework.”
He smirked. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“So, is Dad always so…” I couldn’t think of the right word to describe him. Cold? Distant? Since I’d arrived he’d hardly said two words to me. When he was talking, he was normally cursing out the mailperson or the pizza delivery driver for some reason or another. He was great at finding reasons to be unhappy and grumpy.
Therefore, I stayed out of his way.
Lance frowned. “Over the years your dad has built cement walls. There’s a separation between him and the rest of the world. He’s a hard one to crack sometimes and lives a lot in his own mind. But don’t worry, just give it time. He’s really happy you’re here. He just has a hard time showing it.” He sat on the stool in front of the new drum set and started pounding against the drums. He lit the room up with colors that effortlessly flew off of his sticks. “Listen,” he shouted, “If you want me to talk to him, I can. I’ll do anything to make this easier for you, Levi. Just let me know.” He kept banging against the drums.