Page 9 of Inseparable
“It’ll toughen you up,” she retorts with a gleam in her eye.
“Or I’ll get frostbite,” I moan.
Mom laughs. “Always so dramatic.”
“I’m a teenager. We’re supposed to be dramatic.” I playfully stick my tongue out at her.
“Speaking of drama, did something happen between you and Ayden?”
I pull my woolly hat down over my ears, frowning. “Why do you assume that?”
“Because he came over earlier, and he had a bunch of lilies for you.”
We share a knowing smile. Turning up bearing lilies is Ayden’s signature way of apologizing. I give Mom a censured version of what went down last night. While we are close, and I tell her most everything, there are some things I keep close to my chest.
Like my unrequited love for Devin.
And how Ayden sometimes sleeps in my bed.
I get freaked out in the house alone at night, so Ayden keeps me company on occasion. I know Mom would read more into that than there is. Plus, I don’t want her feeling guilty. Shehasto work, and I’m almost eighteen years old—old enough not to get spooked by the thought of things going bump in the night.
“So, that’s why Ayden’s groveling,” I finish explaining.
“Have you heard from Devin?”
I nod. “He sent me a text.” A one-word text at five a.m. “Sorry.”
She moors the boat to a nearby buoy and comes to sit down beside me. She wets her lips, opening and closing her mouth as if she’s struggling to speak. I wait for her to compose herself. “I know how much those two boys have meant to you, honey. How much they still mean to you, but I think you need to consider the possibility that things might never be the same. People grow up. Move on in their lives. Friendships aren’t always what they used to be.”
“Not ours.” My words resonate with confidence I only partly feel. I can’t lie to myself. I am worried about what will become of us, but I’m afraid to verbalize it. Like it will make it real if I say the words out loud.
I trace a finger over the small infinity tattoo on the inside of my left wrist. Ayden and Devin have one too. It was Dev’s idea—naturally—and he found a tattoo place that didn’t give a rat’s ass about age of consent. We snuck off one day, took the bus to Minneapolis, and got inked up. It’s not the traditional infinity symbol. Dev designed his own and gave a sheet with the drawing to the tattoo artist to replicate. I smile as I trace the intricate, successive loops with the tip of my finger. Each line is delicate and fine, but they are all interwoven, and together they stand out. It symbolized us, Devin had explained. Interconnecting and stronger as a unit, just like our friendship. The memory replays in vivid Technicolor in my mind.
Ayden’s lower lip is trembling, and Devin and I trade knowing looks. “Just hang in a little longer,” I tellAyd. “Andthink of how awesome it’s going to look.” My eyes move to the tattoo artist, bent over my wrist, inking my skin with focused precision.Aydenwinces, and I wish I could reach over and hug him. Devin and I have barely flinched, butAyden’s tense and jumpy, and I know he’s not enjoying the experience. He’s only doing this because we coaxed him into it, like we have done so many times with so many things, and I love him for his devotion to our friendship, even if we constantly push him out of his comfort zone.
A massive lump builds at the base of my throat, and I’m struggling to swallow over it.
Mom looks down at my wrist and then peers into my damp eyes. Her arm goes around my back, and she pulls me into her side. A sob rips from the very innermost part of me. I should know better than to try to fool her. She can always see straight through to my soul.
The day we got the tattoos was one of the few times when I can honestly say Mom was really disappointed in me. Not that I got the tattoo, per se, but that I did it without speaking to her first. While I was quietly confident she would have let me make the decision myself, at fifteen, I was too afraid she’d say no. I didn’t want to let my best friends down, and I wanted a permanent mark of our friendship. A reminder of what we meant to one another.
What I failed to understand then was there is no such thing as permanent. Everything can change in a heartbeat. The only thing that is guaranteed is in the moment. Perhaps that’s why I’m always trying to confirm what’s around the corner. Why I’m so fixated on the future and knowing what lies in store for me. Because I’m scared everything is transitory.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, honey. But you need to prepare yourself. Life doesn’t always work out the way you expect it to.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Ayden is sitting on our porch as Mom parks her station wagon in the driveway. He is holding a bunch of lilies, and staring at me through the window of the car. “That boy is so in love with you,” she says, and there’s a wistful quality to her tone.
“No, he isn’t,” I protest, shaking my head. “You’re my mom. You’re supposed to think every boy’s in love with me.” I watch him watching me, looking for any signs that he’s head over heels in love, and I just don’t see it. He doesn’t look at me the way I imagine I look at Devin when I’m mooning over him.
Her subtle laughter lingers in the air. “You are beautiful, inside and out. No boy is immune to your charms.”
I roll my eyes, reaching for the door handle as I watch Ayden straighten up. “You’re definitely sleep-deprived, or crazy, or maybe a bit of both.” I shoot her a goofy grin. “Hardly any of the boys look my way in school, and I haven’t been asked out on a date in almost six months. Trust me, boys are definitely immune to my charms.”
Theboy is, anyway. I don’t think Devin’s even noticed I’ve got a vagina and boobs. I’m firmly relegated to the friend zone.
“And you know why that is,” Mom continues, refusing to let this go.
