“Yeah. I think it’s because when my mom met Henry, her life just became all about him. It’s like she was missing part of herself and it was him. I’ve never seen her so happy. Honestly, I didn’t know she was so miserable with my dad. She was pretty good at hiding it.”
“Right? I had no clue Mom was that depressed. I mean, she had depressive episodes from time to time, but it never seemed that bad, you know? She would just seem sadder than usual. It’s not like she ever stopped eating or getting out of bed or any of those Lifetime movie symptoms. I wish she’d talked to me about everything. I wish I’d known, like, how much she was hurting. I still have no idea why she did what she did. I mean, I know it was because of Dad, but then why didn’t she just leave him? And why now? Why not wait until I’m off at school? Did she just assume I was all set up for the future and that I’d be okay without her this year? Why would she leave me with that asshole? Did she think it would make him stop drinking? That he would get his shit together and be a decent human being? How could she think that, you know? He’s a fucking monster. Always has been. Obviously she knew it or she wouldn’t have done what she did. God, if she would have just left a goddamn note or something explaining—”
“Wait, wait, wait. She didn’t leave a note?”
“Nope.” I take a bite of my chicken sandwich, not even tasting it.
“Nothing?”
I shake my head.
“That’s seriously fucked up.”
“Right?” I take a sip of Coke. “I kind of wondered if my dad killed her and made it look like a suicide, but he was too far away to have been able to—”
She’s stopped eating. “How do you know for sure? He could’ve—”
“I know because she was still warm when I found her.” Now I’ve also stopped eating.
“Shit. Tyler . . .”
“And now there are four people on the entire planet who know that, so . . .”
“I won’t say a word. To anyone. You know I won’t.”
And I do know.
“You think if our moms had kept in touch, we would have kept in touch?” I ask.
“I was thinking about that the other day. And yes. But I don’t know if we would have been friends. You were just getting cool and it was pretty obvious I was never going to be cool.”
“But we’re friends now.”
“But, well, I hate to break it to you, but . . . you’re not cool anymore.” She dips her fry into my chocolate Frosty and pops it into her mouth.
“Hey.” I fling a fry at her.
She throws one back but I catch it.
“So, you still do that?”
“Dip my fries? Of course! I was wrong to ever have doubted you on that. It’s awesome,” she says, dipping another fry.
“Then why didn’t you get your own Frosty?” I dip the one I caught and pop it into my mouth.
“’Cause I knew you’d get one.”
If you had asked me two weeks ago if I would be hanging out with Jordyn Smith, I would have told you you were high. And now, it’s like we’ve been friends all along. Life is strange.
TWENTY-ONE
Just as my bruise has managed to turn the color of piss, Jordyn and I get to assist Henry at a wedding shoot. He’s even letting her take some of the photos.
I’m waiting for them out in front of this venue that looks like a massive Colorado craftsman mansion/castle. Henry had to replace a flash, and Jordyn had to run back to their house to grab a lens he took home, thus our carpool fell apart.
School has been bearable thanks to Jordyn. Sure, there are all kinds of rumors about us floating around, things involving me letting her drink my blood while we have sex and stuff, but we just laugh them off.
I’ve been able to replenish some of my emergency fund now that Henry’s giving me more shifts. More shifts means more responsibilities, but nothing I can’t handle. I’ve even done a few of the retouches from start to finish. Jordyn used to do all the final finishing touches, but she doesn’t have to anymore. And when we have downtime, Henry shows me some of his work that doesn’t revolve around people staring into the camera. Landscapes and candids of unsuspecting people at various locations who spark his interest. He explains what drew him to each subject and I’m starting to understand composition. Last week he gave me an old DSLR camera to experiment with. I’m still too afraid to show him any of my attempts, though. Most of them are of Captain and stuff around the house—nothing that would mean anything to anyone except me. I did bring the camera along tonight, so we’ll see what I come across. Plus wearing it around my neck makes me feel a little more official.