Ten Thousand Lies (11 page)

I’m so over this shit.
I suddenly felt so much older than I was, that I shouldn’t have to go through the motions of this last fucking year. I wanted to run away and get my life moving in the direction it was supposed to be going, not sit here, stagnant.

I knew these thoughts were immature, and I needed this last year to grow the hell up.

Mom had come home after her shift at the twenty-four-hour diner she worked at when I got back, surprised I was here at all. Guilt had fleetingly crossed her features, but the look was gone before she’d hugged me and murmured that she’d missed me.

I highly doubted she had. Just more lies, and seeing as I had had my eyes opened to some serious truths of the world, I’d dismissed it, not willing to fight for the love my mother was too worn out to give.

Urge Overkill’s “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon” played through my speakers, lulling me into a tranquil state of mind. I thought of how it was very unlikely that Ulla would ever reach true womanhood while it was practically criminal not to consider her a woman after everything she had gone through in her young life.

It took me a moment to realize my phone was ringing, and reaching over to my nightstand, I picked it up and saw an unknown number calling. It was nearly midnight, and though I did have friends who were probably wondering if I was back, I couldn’t imagine any of them waiting this late to see if I was.

“Hello?” I answered, knowing I sounded rude.

“Jaime?”

Tingles danced from my brain stem down my spine at the sound of
that
voice. “Ricki?”

“Hey. Did you make it home?”

I’d completely forgotten I’d promised to let him know when I got back. I sadly sighed. “I left my home. I’m just back in New Jersey.”

He was silent for a moment, and then he said, “But you’re safe? You’re…”

“I’m home,” I conceded.

His breath came out in a rush. “You had me worried. Did you get back just now?”

Guilt squirmed in my chest. “No. Two days ago. I’m sorry. I guess it slipped my mind to let you know.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

“Yep,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as depressed as I felt.

“You’re lying.”

“I am. But I don’t know you well enough to dump my crap on you, so I’ll tell you I’m good, and you’ll say that’s cool, and leave it at that.”

He laughed. “I will?”

“Well, it’s what I’m hoping you’ll do.”

“What if I want to know what’s bothering you?”

“I’ll tell you nothing and ask how you’re doing.”

“Ah, that’s how it goes?”

In spite of my present mood, I smiled. “It’s what I’ve been told.”

“You could just forget all that shite society has taught you and tell me what’s really bothering you.”

“Or,” I countered, “you can tell me what you’ve been up to just to distract me from my own life for a little while, which will no doubt make me feel better.”

“I suppose I could,” he said, his British accent heavy as cream. “Ronen and I are finally being kicked out of the Locals’ housing and getting ready to move into our house. Then, we need to find a location for a shop.”

“Cool. You guys tattoo, right?”

“Yeah. Ronen thinks another year of apprenticing, and I’ll be good to be on my own. I haven’t been able to practice as much as I should, what with…you know.”

“That’s freaking awesome,” I told him, feeling excited for them. “Are you looking forward to it?”

He laughed. “Very much so.” He told me about how he’d been drawing and painting for as long as he could remember.

“I wish I had that sort of fire in me. That passion for something,” I said.

“You do,” he replied. “You know what you need to be doing.”

“But not like you do. You…you’ve got that outside of…everything.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Xanthe has her writing, you know? Rex…well, Rex is just naturally good at everything he does, so maybe he just has a passion for being awesome. But me…I can’t seem to find that secret something within me that makes me who I am. No talent beyond what can be seen…and it sounds kind of bratty, now that I say it out loud.”

Ricki laughed, making me tingle in all the weirdest, most wonderful ways. “You do, Jaime. Maybe it’s just taking a little longer for you to find it, but it’s in you.”

“I hope so.” I stifled a yawn.

“What time is it over there?” he asked.

“Um…one thirty.”

“Damn. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”

Smiling sleepily, I said without thinking, “I like your voice. You can talk my ear off anytime you like.”

Ricki breathed deeply. “I’ll let you go then.”

Embarrassment burned through me, and in the darkness of my room, I could imagine my face glowing with it. “Oh, um…yeah.”

“Jaime?”

“Hmm?”

“I like your voice, too.”

Then, the line went dead, and I was left staring at the fan blades spinning in the white streetlight coming through the window until sleep took over.

Jaime

On the last day of spring break, Xanthe called to tell me Ulla had passed away. It wasn’t like it was a surprise, but I supposed that I should have been prepared for the pain such news would cause.

I wasn’t.

Together, Xanthe and I broke down and wept over the phone for a good hour.

“She was happy though,” Xanthe choked. “Her last months were spent with Aunt Ellen, and she was free.”

“She was sick and in pain!” I wailed.

“But she was
loved
. Aunt Ellen told me—” A loud wet snort blasted my ear. “She told me Ulla made her read all of our letters out loud to her as she lay there, dying, and then she hugged each one afterward. She said she felt loved, and she would die happy for it.”

“Oh God…” I was breaking apart inside.

It was all so wrong,
so fucking wrong
, that anyone should suffer as Ulla had. That she’d had our love at the very end of her life wasn’t enough for me. She’d deserved to be loved her whole life. She had deserved to live a
whole life
.

“Don’t…don’t give up, Jaime. I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“I’m not.”

“A part of me wonders why we should even bother, that there are too many of them, that we’ll never be enough. But you know what?”

“What?” I sniffled, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

“For Ulla, we were. We gave her back her humanity. And, for that, we should never stop fighting.”

“For Ulla,” I whispered.

“For
all
of us.”

I had a plan—get a job, go to community college while Xanthe and Rex were off doing their own thing, and then spend the time after graduating community college working my ass off so that I could leave.

The day after graduating high school, that plan was dashed to hell.

“Jaime? We need to talk,” my mom said, poking her head into my bedroom.

“Sure,” I replied. I couldn’t imagine where this was heading.

“You’re an adult now.”

“I know, Mom.”

She came in and perched stiffly at the foot of my bed. “I’m seeing someone.”

“Well, you are an adult, too,” I said dryly.

“We’re talking about living together.”

My heart started hammering madly in my chest. I could hear the hard swish of blood in my ears. “Okay…”

“I’ll give you a little time, but…” She took a deep breath. “His name is Terry. And, with you living here, he doesn’t feel comfortable moving in. All of his kids are gone and out of the house, and he doesn’t want—”

“You’re fucking kicking me out?” I nearly shouted.

She flinched, but her eyes hardened as she looked up into mine. “Yes. You’ve got a month to get your shit together, get a job, and find a place to live.”

Shit just drops in spades.

My jaw clenched as I fought to rein it the fuck in.
All of it.
My depression. My hurt. My lack of love. The neglect and indifference I had lived through with this woman.

“Fine,” I spit through my teeth.

She reached out her hand toward me, but I jerked out of her way.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Jaime.”

“You might think you love me, but you sure as hell don’t love me enough.”

“Jaime—”

“Just get out while this is still my room. I need to figure out what I’m supposed to do.” I abruptly got to my feet, shaking, defeated, and so fucking lost.

Mom stood, too, and headed for the door. “I just need to move on with my life,” she said, her back to me.

“You need to get the fuck out of here before I fucking lose my shit,” I snarled. “And don’t ever,
ever
expect anything from me. You might have kept food in my belly and clothes on my back, but you were never a mother to me.”

She twitched, as though I’d stabbed her.

Good,
I thought.
She should know how shitty her parenting is.

“I was still better than your father,” she tossed over her shoulder.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Three weeks later, my piece-of-shit station wagon was stuffed with every possession I had. Mom was at work, and I was out of her house. She probably wouldn’t even notice I was gone a week before my deadline. We hadn’t spoken since I’d kicked her out of my room.

My friend, Dave, gave me a job at his tattoo shop and a room in his and JT’s house. After careful calculation, I’d earn enough money to pay rent, keep gas in my car, and buy food. There would be a little leftover each month to hoard for one thing and one thing only.

My ticket to Amsterdam.

If I busted my ass for the next four years, I’d have enough saved up for a one-way plane ticket. Beyond that…I didn’t know.

“Can’t give up now,” I muttered to myself as I turned the ignition.

My station wagon heaved itself out of the driveway of my childhood house. I pulled out into the street and onto the next stage of my life.

Dave and JT were sitting on the front porch of what would be my new home, a huge smile on their faces. Warmth suddenly spread through my chest. No, it wasn’t the family I had hoped to join, but these guys were my friends, too, and had been for years.

Dave and JT came up as I killed the engine. Without even asking, they opened the doors and began unloading my stuff.

“Come on, sweetheart. Time to make yourself at home,” said Dave.

I grabbed a box, and for the first time in a long time, I smiled.