couple of days, I thought a lot about how to tell her. How to talk her down from wanting to fight the administration. How to tell her things are going to be alright. I never did figure that one out, actually. Not that it matters. Apparently, my carefully selected explanations flew out the window before I said a single word.
You’re getting better at fucking up. You’ll have a degree in it soon. Then you won’t need this place.
I take a steadying breath, wondering if Francie can sense that, too. “It’s just...trouble with Adair.” It’s not a lie, anyway.
“Ah, that explains it.”
I can feel the outrush of Francie’s tension through the cell phone’s speaker. I could probably guess where she is in the house, what expression she’s wearing.
“Well, is it advice you’re calling for?” Francie continues when I don’t.
“I’m not sure there’s anything left to advise about.”
“Oh, Sterling…” She fills the two little words with so much love and sympathy.
I feel better. And worse.
I really didn’t think this through. What was I going to tell her, anyway? That I was losing my place at Valmont, at least in part because I lost my temper—again. Because it’s definitely not the first time Francie watched me make that mistake. And somehow, every time I disappoint her, it gets harder to do it again. Maybe that would be a good thing if I were ten and she were my mother, helping me figure out how to grow up. But I’m nineteen now, and still making the same mistakes. What’s left to say?
Isn’t that the problem with letting other people get close to begin with? You give them power over you. Then, they mostly just use it to make themselves happier. That’s how it’s been for me with nearly everyone. And if by some miracle they keep loving you despite your repeatedly fucking up? You have to watch their heart break for you. You have to know you caused it. You can’t escape.
I know I’ve already stuck the dagger in Francie. I just can’t bear the thought of watching her turn around to see me standing there holding the handle.
“Sterling, this is an uncomfortable pause, even for you.” Francie’s voice floats over me.
I’m not sure other people are built like me. I have a place I go to, far on the other side of Drunk Sterling. Somewhere there is no pain, no sadness, and no regret. When I go there, I make rules for my brain to follow—rules that keep the pain away. When I was little, it would be stuff like: No food for Sterling until Sutton eats. Or, later: No lying to Francie. It always works. I have no idea how, or why. It just does.
I make one now, in two parts: I will ruin Angus MacLaine, and I will never burden Francie again.
“Francie, I just needed to hear your voice,” I admit to her. “You’ve always been there for me.”
“You just wanted to feel home?” she offers.
“Yeah, I think that’s it.”
“I’m glad you called, Sterling. I like to give you your space. I know you need it, but it’s still nice.” From Francie, this is almost sappy. Neither of us is comfortable implying we need the other, let alone saying it.
Which is what makes this even harder.
“I don’t think I ever properly thanked you,” I begin.
“You’ve thanked me. And even if you hadn’t—I always knew.” Francie’s voice is warm and light. Will she look back on this moment and remember it with darkness?
“It’s just—I’m not easy to love sometimes.”
There. She’ll probably think I’m referring to problems with Adair. But if she looks back…
“Ha!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“You are so easy to love. Just...hard to understand.”
“Right,” I’m not sure how to answer, and it feels like we’ve done enough sentimentality, anyway. “Listen, I have class…”
“Alright. Scoot. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I end the call, considering what to do with my new rule. Ruining Angus MacLaine will take years, no delusions there. But what can I do to keep myself from being a burden on Francie?
For starters, no moving back to New York. No trying to figure out how to scrape together enough money for community college. No service or fast food jobs. They’re a treadmill, not a road to where I want to go.
It hits me. There’s one place I can go. One place that won’t mind someone who likes to solve problems with brute force. One place that will pay for college. Assuming I live through it.