How (Not) to Fall in Love(72)

“I’m waking you up. In more ways than one.”

She hoisted herself onto her elbows, glaring at me. “You’re not in charge, Darcy.”

I almost laughed. “Actually, I kind of am. Have been for some time now. So I’m telling you to get up. We have a lot to do today. We have boxes to pack. A lease to sign.”

Her mouth opened and shut like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

“This isn’t you, Mom.” My hand swept around the room, which was a disaster zone of piles of clothes and unwashed plates. She fell back against the pillows. I picked up her hand and held it tight. “You’re still in there, my perfect mom. The one who doesn’t get drunk and drop the f-bomb. The one who never leaves the house without looking like a glamour photo.” I smiled down at her. “Actually, it’s okay if you tone that down. We can’t afford the tanning salon and hair maintenance anymore. But you could at least take a shower.” I pushed the limp hair out of her eyes. “I’ve been doing your laundry, but you keep wearing the same stuff over and over.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and into her ear, but she didn’t say anything.

“It sucks that you got fired, but you needed to get free of Pam. I know you can find a better job. I believe it, even if you don’t.” I put my hand on her heart. “But most of all, I need my mom back. Because I’ve been trying to do it all by myself.” My voice caught. “And I can’t…can’t keep doing it. I need you, Mom. So much.”

Her eyes closed and tears streamed down her face. I lay down beside her and held her hand in mine as we breathed together.

Inhaled. Exhaled. Just breathed.

Mom called school, excusing me to leave at noon because she wanted me to go with her to a recovery meeting. I was nervous, but proud of her. I stood at my locker, which was a disaster, not organized the way it used to be. Somehow I’d hardly noticed its disintegration. I guess it reflected my state of mind. Or it used to, anyway. But today my mind was clear, focused. Hopeful.

I knelt on the floor, digging through the mess, pulling out papers to be recycled or filed. Shoved in a corner, I found a typed list: The Top Ten Reasons Chloe Hendricks Sucks.

I’d actually come up with way more than ten reasons when I’d made the list. I scanned the reasons, some of them mean and petty, some sort of funny. After the Letterman locker defacing, I’d wanted revenge, so I’d created this list and planned to use it, but then I’d chickened out.

Reading it now, all I felt was relief that I hadn’t done to her what she’d done to me. I didn’t want to be that person. I tore the list into pieces, bursts of gratitude shooting through me with each rip. I tossed the shredded list and the rest of my old papers in a recycling bin and headed for my truck.

The parking lot was full of people since it was lunch break. Chloe and Ryan leaned against his Range Rover, kissing. As I walked by them, I smiled because all I felt was lightness, like a weight I didn’t even know I’d been carrying floated away. They had their lives. I had mine. And in spite of the Tri!Umphant! Shit Storm, I wouldn’t trade with them in a million years.

Plus, there was amazingly epic kissing in my future, too. In just a few hours, if I was lucky.



Mom and I pulled up to Mrs. Sandri’s house right on time. Charlie was there, too, talking to Mrs. Sandri and Lucas on the porch. My mom froze when she saw everyone.

“It’s okay, Mom. They’re here to help us. They care about us.”

She didn’t want to get out of the car. “I don’t think I can do this. I’m so embarrassed.” She looked at me, panicked. “And your boyfriend is here, too. I know I said awful things to him last night. I’m so sorry, honey.” She dropped her gaze. “They care about you, Darcy, not me.”

I tilted her chin up, just like Lucas did to me. “Then let that be enough. Anyone who cares about me gets you, too.” I smiled at her, but she was crying again. “Besides, you know that’s not true. Uncle Charlie cares about you, too.”

“I’ve let you down,” she said. “What if I do it again?”

“What did they say in that meeting today, Mom? You have to take it day by day. And today you haven’t let me down. You’re here, where I asked you to be. Now it’s time to do the next thing.”

I got out of the car and walked around to open her door. I held her hand as she stepped out. She was pale, but her hair was shiny and she wore clean clothes that weren’t wrinkled. I handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

She laughed. “Where’d you find this?”

“In your dresser.” I glanced up the sidewalk toward Lucas and Charlie. Lucas jumped off the steps and jogged over to us. He bent down to kiss my cheek, laced his fingers through mine, and smiled shyly at my mom.

“Hi Mrs. Covington,” he said. “I hope you’ll like this house.”

Mom blushed. “Lucas, I need to apologize for last night—”

Lucas put up a hand. “Please don’t. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

She shook her head, eyes downcast. “That’s no excuse,” she muttered.

“Come on, Mom,” I said, tugging her after me. “Mrs. Sandri is waiting for us.”

Charlie hugged Mom and spoke softly to her. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I could tell Mom was fighting back tears.