grand never went anywhere; it was all for show. Oh, and since I was seventeen at the time, and Jake was nineteen? Well, leverage. Zero prison time traded for never, ever seeing us again. It’s going to take me a while to be able to open up about all of the betrayal. I’ve been able to tell June, but even with her, I can’t get through the details without shutting down.
On a positive note, though, my company is now mine, and mine alone. My mom is setting up the structure, but she insists on being listed as an employee. She keeps saying being fireable is the one thing that ensures good parents don’t go bad, but I’m pretty sure that’s more of a soul-and-ethics sorta thing. If I ever make it truly big, the first thing I’m going to do is pay off the debt on her house. She’ll sleep easy knowing that the walls my abuelo put up are hers forever. I want to secure that legacy for her.
With the break in shoots, Mom and I decide to make a short trip home for New Year’s. June’s mom is throwing a party, and apparently June went and invited a lot of people. I’m gone a week and a half and my friend becomes a party animal. Hayden says it’s because she liked throwing my birthday party so much. She and her mom are good at catering and planning and decorating and, well, all of the things I’m not good at.
My mom’s been sleeping so little that she finally conks out on the couch. I don’t dare move her. She’s getting too skinny, a thought that makes me sound like my abuela in my head. I drag the comforter from her bed over her and hit the mute button on the TV. The light will comfort her if she wakes in a strange location. With my phone, wallet, and key from the nearby table, I tiptoe out of the apartment. The busy sidewalk is freshly covered with a sparkling dusting of snow. It’s nice to see before the morning traffic makes things so dirty.
It may be freezing here, but one thing my mom and I are suckers for is ice cream. We found this unique little place called Sweet Jesus on our first day in town. It’s housed in an old church, and the ice cream is the best calorie gain I’ve ever experienced. Our goal is to have one of everything on the menu before we quit filming in March, but at this rate, I’ll be through the list by the middle of January. I can always double up, I suppose.
The sidewalks are busy and the city is bright with holiday lights. The line for ice cream, even in the snow, is out the door. I take my spot and huddle against the building to stay warm in my fuzzy coat.
I palm my phone, hiding my face deep in the fur of my hood and scroll through pictures on my friends’ feeds. It’s hard to find photos of Tory, but it doesn’t stop me from constantly searching. He usually fights it like he is in this one I stopped on. It’s a selfie Hayden took, and Tory is hiding most of his face with his palm, his tongue sticking out far enough to touch his chin. It’s enough to see his lips.
Excited to share my news about coming home, I flip to my contacts and stop on Hayden’s name. We didn’t talk for a few days after I left, but he texted out of the blue one night saying he needed someone to listen. It made me smile, and it’s made me less lonely to have him only a text away. He gives me little updates about his brother, but I don’t ask about him much. It seems they’re in a good place, and I don’t want to stir up anything that’s better left put to rest. My feelings and hurt and scars over Tory aren’t for Hayden to hear. Besides, I like just listening.
I press the call button by his name and bring the phone to my ear. I hate when people walk around on video chat, talking to one another in crowds for everyone to hear. I refuse to be that, even though everyone I work with—including Jordan Shotwell—is one of those people. I caught my mom doing it the other day and duly chastised her.
After four rings, I’m close to giving up, but Hayden picks up,