The Masks We Wear by Lee Jacquot

 

TWENTY NINE

 

“William, Just text her. And for the love of all things virgin, don’t let me have to beat your ass. And also, don’t take all day. Remy has lots of other shit to do besides tutor your dumbass.”

“Hmm. You’ve mentioned my buns of steel twice. Got them on your mind, Hanes?”

“Fuck off, Will.” I grit my teeth, wondering why the hell I just sealed my dear friend’s fate with the likes of William. He needs to retake his SATs if he wants any chance of coming to school anywhere in Washington, and if anyone can help him, I know it’s her. She’s got the patience of a shepherd herding sheep and the ability to help just about anyone.

My mother’s peppered hair catches the light and reflects in my peripheral. “Hey, man. I got to go, but I’ll call you soon.”

“Yeah, but, hey. Good luck tomorrow. I know you busted your balls over that project. It’s going to be great.”

I mutter a quick thanks before ending the call and bounding over the couch to my mother. She giggles, her thin shoulders shaking as she places a frail hand on my chest.

The trip was the best thing I could have imagined. My dad had me waking up at five in the morning to get schoolwork done, but the rest of the day was something out of a movie. We went sightseeing, kayaking, bungee jumping, and sailing. We ate foods from Greece to China, exploring every nook and cranny the world has to offer and marking off literally every item on my mom’s bucket list.

Out of the twelve-week trip, she only had an episode twice. Twice. The least amount she’s had in years. But Dad had to remind me on more than one occasion that it didn’t mean anything. He said there could be a plethora of reasons she was managing so long but warned that she’d continue to deteriorate as soon as we came back.

Sure enough, on the plane ride home, about ten minutes in, she couldn’t even remember my dad. The walls of excitement—of hope, came crashing down in an instant. It reminded me how fragile life is, how nothing is permanent.

It taught me the one thing I’ve forgotten since my mother’s diagnosis.

Hold fast, hold steadyisn’t just a coping mechanism she taught me to keep my cool. It was something my mother would recite when things got tough. When I needed a gentle reminder that nothing is easy, and everything required consistency and work. When the waters get crazy, hold on, ride it out.

And whatever you do, don’t fucking give up.

“Are you excited?” Her soft voice pulls me back to her.

“Yes,” I lie.

The long-awaited science fair is this weekend, and the bus leaves in about thirty minutes. I’m not sure if she’s going, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see her. I thought about her more than I’d care to admit, mainly about all the things I regret.

“You’re going to win. Don’t you worry about it.” She leans into my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her back, cherishing the ache between my lungs.

Today is the day. Not only for the fair, but my mom’s departure, and no amount of preparation could have got me ready for the train wreck of emotions that are flitting through me. She’ll only be an hour away. Fifty-three miles, to be exact, but it’s not the same.

It’s not like I’m going off to college and leaving her at home. No, I’m taking her to the place she’s more than likely going to die. Alone. Surrounded by people she doesn’t know, mourned by people she doesn’t remember.

Tears prick the back of my lids, the small ache now radiating to every cell in my skin, leaving me wishing I could rip it off. We’ve said goodbye twenty times, and still, it’s not enough.

“Honey.” My mother leans back, craning her neck to look at me. “Please don’t forget what we talked about.”

We talked about plenty, but I know she means Lily. My mom’s never met her, but even when I was a kid, she would say she can see Liliana in my eyes, tied to my soul in a way that only true love is.

When we were in Niagara Falls alone while my dad got us some ponchos, I told her everything. There had been something about the way the water rolled over the cliff, crashing into the water beneath that reminded me of what was going on in my chest. Because when it came to Lily, everything was erratic, a contradiction… torrential.

But after my mother had time to digest my words, she pointed out something else. Like the waterfall, Lily and I were also passionate, graceful poetry with a full roar.

“You don’t give up on something as world-altering as a waterfall, son. And if you loved her, even when you hated her, that’s all you need. Because when I was angry with your father, love was nowhere in sight. That’s when I knew he wasn’t the one. Now, make things right, and get your girl.”

“I love you,” I whisper into her temple, leaving a whisper of a kiss on each one and wiping the lone tear that fell from my face to hers.

She leans into my chest once more before lightly pushing me back to examine my eyes. “I love you most. Now, go win, and I’m not talking about just the fair.”

My lips twitch with a smile, but I don’t give in. Not when there’s so much pain coursing through my veins. “Yes, ma’am.”

I kiss her again before she ushers me out the door, fussing about being late.

When I arrive at the school, I make out the small silhouette of Remy bouncing on her heels, peering at her watch, and saying something to Mr. Jones. His eyebrows are threaded together, and he, too, is checking his watch.

I swing into a spot, grab my bag from the back and haul ass toward the antsy pair.

“Sorry, Mr. Jones. There was traffic.”

Remy’s face splits in a huge smile, and she runs to greet me, throwing her arms around my neck. It soothes some of the ache from earlier, but Mr. Jones is quick to break it up.

“Alright, Mr. Hanes, come now, let’s go. We’ll be late for check-in.”

He escorts us on the bus and points to an empty seat near the front. I keep my eyes down, careful not to search for her. But I don’t need to. I can feel her. Her eyes burn into the side of my face, leaving me shifting in my seat.

Just do it.

My knees move first, turning to the aisle before I twist my body. My pulse thrums against my neck, accelerating to an uncomfortable pace. But when my eyes meet hers, everything stops.

There are no contacts.

Lily’s big chestnut orbs glow with the wide grin curling up the ends of her lips. Her beautiful sun-kissed skin shimmers from the light peeking through the bus window and illuminates a few freckles across her collarbone I never noticed before.

She’s sitting in the seats one row back on the opposite side, but I can make out her lavender cream even from here. It fills my nostrils with its hues of lemon until she’s all I can smell. My head feels high, dizzy as it becomes intoxicated with the scent. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.

Remy clears her throat. “Go. Sit with her.”

Guilt rams into my chest, and I snap back in my seat. “I’m sorry, Remy. That was rude. Talk to me. How were midterms?”

She rolls her eyes. “Boy, I’ve talked to you every week. Really. It’s a three-hour ride. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

“Exactly.” I push my back into the seat, twisting my knees so they face her.

Every nerve in my body is on fire, pulling me, begging me to talk to the brown-eyed girl two feet away, but I don’t. Not yet. I need to wait until I know exactly what to say and when I’m a little less high on her smell because this time, I’m going to get it right.

Remy gives me a once-over and sighs, resting her head in the crook of my shoulder. “Isn’t today…?”

She doesn’t have to finish for me to know what she’s talking about. I nod, letting my head fall on the top of hers. “Yeah.”

We sit in silence for a moment, and the next thing I know, a dark veil closes over my eyes.