The Mendacity of Winnie Hart

Chapter Sixteen

How nice it was to be able to sleep again, despite the nightmares. At least I could go to school with a mostly-functioning mind. I wish I didn't have to go to school at all, but dropping out wouldn't be the best move. Then I would probably be stuck here, unable to leave. That's the last thing I wanted.

The days were getting colder, so I tried to put on something a little warmer, opting for a turtleneck and green cardigan paired with a skirt. I might end up regretting it when I felt the temperature outside, but it was still early enough in Winter to warrant using up all of my light clothes.

As I got ready, I tried not to think about the prospect of gossip. Wren still hadn't mentioned anything, and neither had Ash or Noah. That made me feel a bit better, since I figured Noah would jump on the chance to ridicule with me the others.

My phone buzzed, with a text from Wren.

Car broke again, can't give you a ride :(

I rolled my eyes, not surprised at all with her cars unreliability. But what was I supposed to do now? Take public transportation and be late? That's never stopped me before, but I'd already missed the previous two days. I didn't want to add insult to injury.

"Is Wren late?" I heard my mothers voice behind me. She was dressed in her diner uniform, her hair in a perfect braid running down her back.

"Her car broke," I answered simply.

"I'm on my way to work, but I could drop you off. I can be a little late," she suggested, picking up her car keys. She looked almost hopeful which made my stomach churn with guilt.

The thing was, I really didn't want to sit in a car with her for more than a couple minutes.

It sounds awful, but we've just grown apart. We both thought that it was better this way, I could tell. After everything that happened, it was difficult to slip into normalcy.

So we didn't.

However, if I wanted to be to school on time, I would have to accept the ride.

"Okay, thanks," I said, following her out the door.

We both got in the car silently, buckling our seatbelts awkwardly. It'd been a while since I'd been in her car, old and breaking, made in the nineties. It was an ugly brown, and the tires were in desperate need of air. The upholstery was cracked and the paint was peeling. Yet, it always got her to where she wanted to go, including this town, miles and miles away from our previous one.

"Anything interesting happening at school?" She asked, glancing at me quickly.

"Not really."

A few beats passed before a second attempt at conversation was made.

"Anything interesting happening at work?"

"Same old," she answered, as if she'd told me about anything involving her work before.

Her hands were gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, evidence that she found this drive just as odd as I did. A daughter and mother were supposed to have a certain kind of bond. They were there to gossip about boys with, to trust with your problems and to make sure you were taken care of. Even before everything happened, we never really had that. My father was probably the one at fault for that, but the damage was irreparable now.

She attempted to turn on the radio, but all that came out was static fuzz.

"Guess I have to get that fixed," she laughed awkwardly.

"Seems so."

All was quiet as we pulled up to my school a short while later. I made the mistake of looking at her before unbuckling my seatbelt. She was staring straight ahead of her, barely giving me a goodbye before I left.