Difference Between

Chapter 20 - Conversations in the Upset Position

I don't do it.

By lunch, I'm still in my room. I lay on the floor with my legs on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My hands are folded on my stomach. I keep urging myself to walk out the door and talk to Mom or Don - whoever I run into first - but I can't make myself move. My mind alternates between Darius III and Patrick Henry. But honestly, I'm definitely both.

"Ashlyn," Mom calls from the other side of the bedroom door. My heart rate kicks up, and I clutch the Key of Bastille. She knocks and opens the door. When I glance at her, she gives me a smile between concern and amusement. "Oh. The upset position."

I forget about our fight and what I need to say for a second to furrow my eyebrows. "The what?"

"The upset position." She walks into my room and lays down next to me, copying my position. "You only lay like this when you're really upset about something. Your dad coined it."

"The upset position," I echo, looking back up at the ceiling. "Sounds about right."

"Why are you in the upset position?"

I shrug. "A lot of things to be upset about right now. But that's my own fault."

"Like what?"

I glance at her. Here goes... I clutch the Key of Bastille and say, "I guess I'm just sorry for a lot of things. Like calling you Queen Victoria."

Mom smiles at me. "It's okay."

"It's really not. You didn't really do any damage to me. I guess I was just frustrated."

"About what?"

I pull on the key so the chain digs into the back of my neck. "About how it felt like you wouldn't side with me over Marcus. Or more about how you didn't really care enough to side with me or hear me out before choosing to side with Marcus."

Mom reaches out and brushes my hair out of my eyes. "I do care, Ashlyn. And it came off as me not caring, but I do. And I'm sorry." She sighs, her hand pausing at my hairline. "I guess I should've at least consulted you and Don about dating Kean--"

"No." I pull my legs off the bed and sit up, tucking my feet beneath me. Mom does the same, turning to face me. "I don't think you have to consult us for your own personal decisions. It would've been nice, but it's not like it's our lives. It's yours. I guess I'm just asking you to - I don't know - listen to me more before assuming that I'm the problem."

Mom nods. "I'm sorry that I made you feel like you were the problem. And I don't want you to think that I didn't care until it affected me. I did care. And I still do. I always will."

"I know. I didn't mean to call you Queen Victoria. It just slipped out."

"But you did mean it. Otherwise, you wouldn't have said it."

She doesn't say it in a mean way. Just matter of factly. And I guess she has a point... "Yeah, maybe I did mean it a little bit. And I'm sorry."

Mom smiles and shifts, pulling me into a hug. I lean into her touch. She kisses the top of my head and gently finger-combs my hair. "It's okay. And I know you prefer going to your dad for these things, but you can always talk to me if you need advice. And I promise that I'll listen to all the details before jumping to conclusions."

I nod, laying down and resting my head in her lap. She keeps finger-combing my hair, and I curl up in the fetal position, letting her. "I know. But I need to figure out how to talk to you without losing my temper. Same for pretty much everyone I talk to... Plus I didn't really want to go into too much detail with you because Don kept making me feel like it'd be selfish of me if you really knew how bad things were between me and Marcus."