Growing Up and Other Tall Tales

Chapter 35

I meet Nick in front of his door today.

He had been camping in Shane's basement for the past few months since his mom has been back. Not that Shane's parents particularly mind considering how they are never home. He went home the other day (snuck in through that one unlocked window and almost broke his arm and my patience) for more clothes. He had been sneaking in and out of the house once month but yesterday he got caught. And I fucking ran.

Mrs. Reid opens the door to me.

"Hi," I wave awkwardly wondering if it is too awkward if I look over her shoulder for Nick

To say Nick had a strained relationship with his mother is not only an understatement but also offensive. Nick's father died in a car accident when he was very small. Around the same time my pops was taken away. I distinctly remember not quite understanding Nick's plight. At the tender age of 3, I thought everyone's fathers got sent away and I had tried to comfort my newest and only friend, convinced that his dad would return. He didn't.

Nick's mother made no effort to move on. She refused to even look at Nick during the funeral. He used to trail behind her, making up excuses for her attention hoping for an off chance that she might even accidentally skid her eyes past him.

Nick grew to be the spitting image of his father. And it haunted her. She took up a job that meant she was out of the state for months on end so she wouldn't have to live in the same house as the ghost of her husband.

It was inexcusable but understandable.

Nick grew to resent her. He'd never admit it. That it hurt him beyond any consolation I could give. That he loathed her. That he loathed him. Nick Reid had so much of hatred in him. But it didn't rot him inside out like it did me. It made him smile brighter, joke louder, and he tells me it's because he cannot afford to be sad about more things. It would kill him. And I try my best to keep it that way because something killing him would kill me. It's why he doesn't know anything about me finding my mother. It opened a can of worms I wasn't ready to clean up.

Being caught by his mother, Nick agreed to her quiet request for dinner because despite his animosity, Nick isn't violent, he isn't venomous or vicious. He is sometimes so good he makes my heart ache.

"Lyra," I hear him from inside of the house and I relax. His head pops out followed by two big bags. "Mom, you remember Lyra? She used to live with us-me for a while."

She still doesn't look at him. She blinks at me. "Your girlfriend?"

He sighs and looks skywards. I shake my head at her and she looks even more confused. It's like she has no memory of making breakfast for two or finding both of us curled up in Nick's bed. We were part of the trauma she had chosen to forget. People dealt with grief in different ways. Each one shittier than the last. And the shittiest of all was projecting it onto your child.

"I'm going to stay at Shane's. We've got that project I told you about." Bullshit. "Call me before you leave yeah?" She won't.

He doesn't wait for her reply already knowing that there isn't any and steps outside. Slinging both bags over one shoulder freeing his right hand he grabs my hand instinctively with it.

I squeeze it

I'm here, I'm here.

He squeezes back.

I know.