Violet Tinted Glasses

Chapter 6: Hot Mess Express

Just text him, Vi. I stare at the note one more time a groan at how stupid I must have looked crying in bed to him.

Love,
Hope you have a good rest after all that cleaning. You earned it.
Text or call me if you need me. And text or call me if you don't. See you at 9.
- Bug

Bug. I've called him that since we were kids. He was a ladybug in the second grade play, and kids were making fun of him for it. I said it was awesome, and that being a bug was nothing to be upset about. Since then, it's stuck.

I read it one more time just to make sure that my dyslexia isn’t playing any tricks on me.

Maybe if I don't text him, he'll think I'm still sleeping and won't come to get me. I nod with a satisfied smile at my plan. Ugh, he'll just come in and drag me over his shoulder.

I grunt as I get up out of bed, carefully placing the note on my desk, and head towards the bathroom on the other side of the trailer. As I get into the shower, I can't help but feel a wave of nostalgia.

Since being back, it's been hard. Dylan, my brother, doesn't come around that much, and as much as my dad has tried to convince me that Dyl doesn't blame me for our mom's death, I know know there's underlying resentment that has kept him and I from connecting. When he is around, he doesn't communicate with me or dad like he did, and I can't help but feel guilty for causing this tension in the family with just being alive.

When my mom went on a cruise all of those years ago, she cheated on my dad with a random employee on the boat in a drunken one night stand. When she got back from her trip, she slept with my dad. Nine months later, I was born, and my mother never knew whether or not the man who raised me shared my DNA. Of course, none of this came out until we found the note sharing this well hidden secret.

When this news first came out, I wondered why my mother never did a paternity test. I had come to two conclusions. The first being that we were too poor to afford it. The second is that she knew the truth of the test would change the dynamic of the family if he wasn't my father. Ignorance is bliss, I guess.

Since I've been back, my guilt has gotten worse. My dad goes out of his way to make me comfortable, but I can’t control the guilt I feel. Guilt for leaving. Guilt for coming back. Guilt for hurting and breaking the family. Guilt for not being able to give my brother has mom back. Guilt for not being able to be my dad's daughter. Guilt of my mother's infidelity.

And that doesn't begin to crack the guilt I feel about leaving Wendy and Nathan. Guilt for not telling them the truth. Guilt for leaving. Guilt for not being able to give them anything.

I... like Nathan. Like, really like Nathan. I always have, and probably, always will. He was always a good guy, and I trust him with everything. It started off as a small crush, wanting to be his friend, but as time went on, I realized how deep my feelings were for him.

When I left two years ago, I wrote my feelings off as puppy love, but running into him, when I got back set my feelings into overdrive. He deserves someone who is good for him; compliments him. I’m not that person. He lives in a mansion, and my house is the size of his three car garage. His clothes are expensive, and mine are from the resale store. He has a car, a sexy car at that, and I take the bus if I can afford it.

I don’t hate my life at all. I’m very grateful for everything I have or have been given, but I know where I stand in society. And it’s not up there with him.  I can still remember telling my mom of my feelings for him, and her saying, “Being friends is fine; it’s safe. People don’t set as much of a stigma on friends. But if you were to ever get into a relationship with him, people would look at him differently. You don’t want that for him, sweetie. Do you?” The answer was and still is no.  I don’t want that for him. Nathan is sweet enough to not have this bother him, but I don’t want this to hinder him or have people look down on him. I don’t want him to settle when he can have another person who can give him everything he wants. I become the green-eyed monster just thinking about someone else treating him, loving him, the way I want to.