Page 65 of Valley Girls
“If you put this energy into doing it instead of complaining, you’d be done by now,” Thea said.
“Is there a handbook of trite parenting phrases you get with guardianship papers?” Rilla asked. “You don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to be doing. You only ask when you run out of things to say.”
Thea just barked a laugh and whipped open the truck door. “You’re fighting the wrong person, baby girl.”
Rilla made a face and slammed her door. August. She just had to make it until August.
Thea glared out the front and rolled down the window for Lauren, who’d stopped by the truck.
“You all right?” Lauren asked softly.
Thea sighed and leaned against the side. “I’m fine.”
“She won’t tell our mom she’s dating a girl,” Rilla said, taking satisfaction in getting to tell on Thea.
Lauren looked at Rilla and didn’t even flinch or make an expression.
Rilla bit her lip and looked at Thea.
Thea shook her head. “We’ll talk later,” she said to Lauren.
Lauren nodded. They kissed and Thea started the truck.
Rilla crossed her arms and slid into the corner, as far from Thea as she could get.
“You’re a little bitch, you know that?” Thea said. It stung.
“Ohhh ... that feels awfully Thea from West Virginia,” Rilla said. “Be careful. You might wake up and Mom will know you fuck girls.”
“Shut up!” Thea screamed.
Rilla snapped her jaw shut.
“Do you think I want my life to be like this? Do you think I hate Mom? That I never want to go home again? That I didn’t love being there? That I haven’t actually told Mom about three times, all of which she completely ignored like some fucked-up denial thing?”
Rilla couldn’t answer.
“I’m doing it, Rilla. Day after day, I’m dealing with what I have. And all you’re doing is refusing to even acknowledge there’s a problem. It’s okay to say someone’s actions hurt you.”
Rilla didn’t know what to say. Or think. “Mom isn’t like that,” she whispered, even though it sounded exactly like Mom. “And I know ... I’m not. No one hurts me.” Shit, why did she feel like crying. Everything was hot and confusing and terrible.
Thea shook her head. “Why do I try?” she muttered.
They sat in silence, in the traffic, with everyone else—moving at a snail’s pace. Rilla stared out the window, focusing on her breathing until the threat of tears receded.
Thea pulled into the end of a parking lot and blocked the exit. “Let me know if you see anyone coming to their cars. I have to inform them of the evacuation,” she said, putting the truck in park and turning down the heat.
From the front seat, Rilla could just barely see the foaming edge of the Merced as it churned over boulders along its path. It looked swollen but not flooded. But she knew rivers. Rainelle had flooded only two years ago from snowmelt and storms. Thea didn’t know—she hadn’t been there or called when it happened. Rilla didn’t know what was going on between Mom and Thea—but it couldn’t be what Thea said. It just couldn’t. Rilla wasn’t ready to face a problem she couldn’t try and fix.
“Is this all you’re doing now?” Rilla said. “Napping?”
“Yep,” Thea said from under closed eyes. “Try doing some schoolwork.”
Rilla sighed and looked at her bag. The deadline for all this work wasn’t until August. There was no reason for Thea to be on her except it made her feel good to grind her axe about something. She pulled outThe Scarlett Letterand slouched in her seat, curling the book’s binding back on itself. The rain pattered on the windows. The fan blasted heat. She blinked at the end of the page, and couldn’t remember a word of what she’d read.
“Can I go back to the house?” Rilla asked.
Thea was silent.
