Page 68 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
I nod. “A little.”
“That’s nice. I bet his family is happy,” Mom says, but all I can think about is how dirty I feel. How am I going to make this work?
“Yeah,” I say again. I say it too much.
This junk is too much. It isn’t life or death, at least I don’t think it is. Gods, what if it is? No. Of course it isn’t, that’s silly. Still, this isn’t what I should be dealing with. I should be worrying about finishing my English paper, passing my math exams next week, finding anactualboyfriend. Not building a story around how I’m dating a hot jock I’ve barely carried asingle full conversation with who’s been in a coma for two weeks, who only now woke up and thinks he’s experiencing amnesia—allbecause of me.
“Night, Mom,” I say before I can break into tears.
My emotions are welling up behind my cheeks. It’s a confused mess of feelings, all culminating into this weird nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach. There’s worry for sure. A little jealousy floating alongside it. Then terror. Lots of terror surrounding what’s going to happen when people find out. And shame. Shame is the centerpiece. It’s what has my stomach churning.
“Nacht, mein Schatz.” She grins.
She doesn’t use her familial language often since I only know a few phrases. All my relatives on her side speak English, so it was never important for me. Sometimes I’ll overhear Mom FaceTiming my aunt back in Böblingen and have to remind myself they’re not mad at each other. German’s weird like that, but this one is sweet. It’s one she’s said since before I can remember.Night, my little treasure.
“Gute Nacht,” I say good night back.
I start down the hallway, but my chest is stiff and every step and breath seems harder than the last. Since when do I lie to my mom? It’s become too easy and I don’t like it. I huff and turn around. She’s standing there, watching me. Was she waiting for me to turn around?
“What’s going on, Mackenzie?” Mom smiles caringly.
It’s not often I hear my full name from her. Usually it’s Kenzie, that’s it. But my full first name—that’s usually only from people who don’t really know me, or from Mom when she’s worried.
I huff, letting all the air drain from my lungs, and take in one long breath. Am I actually going to do this? Am I really going to unload this all on her? Yeah. I am. I force my lips to curve and push up my dimples in one of those sad smiles. Please don’t think less of me for this, Mom.
“Hayden’s not exactly my boyfriend,” I admit. Oh shit, I did it! She’s the first person—okay, second person—I’ve actively admitted it to. Well, maybe Kaitlynn, but that’s different. She doesn’t count.
Mom’s head tilts and her eyes squint. The massive weight bearing down on me doesn’t lift. I don’t feel airy or free. None of those things happen, but maybe a single little ounce falls off. I’ll take it.
“What do you mean?” Mom asks slowly. “You said…”
“I made it up,” I blurt. It sounds a thousand times more pathetic when the words blare from my lips and are immediately absorbed by our little suffocating hallway. “I don’t even really know him.”
“But…how? Why would you make up something like that? Kenzie…” Her words cut, and each question stings as her voice rises an octave and comes at me quicker. “Doesn’t his family think you two are a couple? His brother was even here.”
“They do,” I admit. And Zachary…why do you have to bring him up? I was trying so hard to block him out. “And yeah. Zachary thinks so too.”
“But you’re not?” Mom asks again.
“No.” I bow my head.
“Why would you lie about that?” she asks again. The subtle accusation in her tone is painful.
I don’t want to answer. The more I think about it, the worse I feel and the more frustrating it all seems. How did it ever seem like a good idea, like somehow it would all work out in the end and I’d be happily in love with Hayden Marcus? Who was I trying to impress? Myself?
“It j-just sort of happened,” I stutter. Oddly enough, it’s not entirely a lie. It did just sort of happen. I hadn’t planned any of it. I mean I had thought of a few scenarios to get him to date me before any of this ever happened, but none of them included lying to a nurse and his family to convince them I was dating him after he fell, hit his head, and went into a coma at the shop. Even then, I didn’t go into the hospital scheming, concocting a way to make him think I was his enbyfriend. No! I just went because I was worried. He fell and passed outatmy work. Right in front of me! The boy I was…am—I think—head over heels for. I just had to follow the ambulance. Why did I do that? But the worst was that foolish sentence. Those outlandish words I muttered to Regina. I sealed the deal with that first lie. Or maybe it was the spell, I don’t know anymore.
“It just happened?” She leans against the doorframe like the question is exhausting. The disbelief is building in her eyes, the disappointment, and I hate it so much. “How does something like that just happen, Mackenzie? Wie? People don’t just assume your Freunde. And if they do? Du sagst ihnen, dass du das nicht tust.”
She stops herself and breathes. It’s not common to hear her become angry and revert back to German, but when it happens I know I’ve crossed a line, as if I didn’t already know that.
“You tell them you’re not!” she says in English this time.
I’m not used to her getting riled up. It’s so rare that I don’t know what to do, so I do nothing. I just stand in place, trying to blink away the tears slipping over my cheeks. I know I shouldhave told them I’m not Hayden’s enbyfriend. I know! But I couldn’t! I didn’t. I messed up. I know.
“I’m sorry, Schatzi,” Mom says, sinking her lips in and back out before gulping. “I don’t mean to be angry. I just don’t understand.”
“I know. Me too,” I huff. But I think I do now. If I hadn’t told Regina he was my boyfriend, I could have avoided it all. But I did, and when it bit me in the ass, I didn’t know which was worse: to break the trust of my friend or a little white lie. A white lie. Gods, it’s not a white lie. It’s horrible. It was the most absurd thing I could have said. If not for one choice, I wouldn’t be here right now, but here I am. “It’s pointless, but I’m stuck.”
