The way he says it makes me think he knows. He sounds like a doctor at a hospital. My head is fuzzy. I want to talk to him more, ask questions about his daughter. I’m staring out the window, but my eyes feel heavy again, so I let them drift closed.
The car stops. I hear his door opening and shutting. Now my door is opening, cold air nipping at me. Reluctantly I open my eyes. Marcus is reaching for my hand, helping me out. Mom’s waiting at the front door and I brace myself, but she just steps forward and hugs me tight. She’s crying. I put my head into the crook of her neck. I’m home.
The scent of coffee drifts under my nose. I turn my head to the side, cover my nose and mouth with my arm. Angus snuffles across my face, his snout jabbing at my ear, thrusting under my arm as he whines and grunts at me.
“Stop it!” I give him a shove, but he pounces on me again, his weight pressing into my belly. I squint my eyes. Mom is sitting at the foot of my bed. She looks amused. Sun streams in from the window—she’s opened my blinds wide.
I groan and pull the pillow over my head. “It’s too early.” I’ve never had a headache like this before in my life. It’s like my skull has been ripped open and someone is pounding at it with knives and hammers, maybe an entire tool kit. The image makes me think of my dad and I feel sad and nauseated again. I’m going to sleep all day. I’ll just stay in bed until tomorrow.
“It’s almost noon. Jared’s been calling all morning.”
Images tumble through my mind in a hot rush of shame and disgust at myself. I’d waited so many years for that? It wasn’t romantic or sweet or even a little bit fun. I was just another stupid girl who got drunk and lost her virginity to her high school boyfriend.
This is real, he said.
I blink at the tears filling my eyes and try to sniff quietly so Mom can’t tell I’m crying. She lifts the pillow from my face, touches my check, then lies down beside me.
“Do you want to tell me why you were walking home by yourself in the middle of the night? Were you trying to turn yourself into a snow queen?”
I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”
“You can tell me anything.”
Right. As if I can tell her about this. I can’t stop remembering what we did. He knew I was drunk, but so was he. So is it my fault? I got in bed with him. I took off my clothes, didn’t I?
“Delaney called too. She’s worried about you.”
I wish I’d gone home with her, wish I could do the whole night over again. Maybe the whole year. “I just got too drunk and acted like an idiot. Guess I’m like my dad.”
She rolls me back over, looks me in the face.
“No, Sophie. You’re not. You could never be.”
“He’s gone,” I say. “He was here and now he’s not.”
“I know.” Her expression is sad, but I know she’s not sad he’s gone. She’s sad for me, and that makes it all seem worse, makes me feel all jagged inside.
“Sometimes I feel relieved because we don’t have to be scared anymore, Mom. But that’s such an awful thing to say. Then other times I just feel really angry at him. I’m never going to have a dad. I think about my graduation, my wedding, all kinds of stuff like that.”
“I know it’s hard. It will probably hurt for a while, then it will get easier. Different times in your life you may miss him more, but you will have lots of wonderful people who will be there for you during all those special events. You’ll always have me.”
“I think I should give away all his money. It never made him happy.”
“You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
I sigh and rest my head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I was a jerk.”
“I was really scared, but I know you’re dealing with a lot of emotions right now.” I feel her hesitate, notice the caution in her voice as she says, “I don’t like that you were drinking last night, especially when you were upset. Alcohol lowers your inhibitions, it makes people do different things, reckless things, but it doesn’t make the problem go away.”
“I know. I acted like an idiot.”
“Everyone makes mistakes. But being an adult means learning from them, apologizing for our actions if we hurt someone, and moving on. Today is a new day.”
I think about Jared again. But now I’m not feeling so ashamed, I’m feeling bad. How would I have felt if he just walked out on me? I need to text him.
“I should call Jared.”
She looks startled, like that wasn’t what she expected to hear. Maybe she wanted me to say that Jared was the mistake. Maybe she was hoping that I was going to break up with him. I feel a roll of anger in my stomach and brace for another lecture, but then she just sits up.
“I brought you coffee. Drink lots of water too. It will help.” She passes me my phone. “Come downstairs whenever you’re ready.”