The Best Possible Answer(55)



“That’s it?” I say. “No probing questions about where I’ve been or judgmental comments about how my aimlessness is bad for Mila?”

“We miss you, Viviana,” my mom says. “I hope this time you’re here to stay.”

I go to the bathroom and strip down. I turn the water as hot as it can go. I sit on the floor of the tub and let the shower pound down on my back. My skin turns red under the heat of the water, but it’s not enough to dissolve the pain. I’m home, and they are out there waiting for me to return to them dry and renewed, as though everything in our lives is normal and fine.

But I know it’s not.

It’ll never be normal or fine, ever again.





Mistakes to Avoid Your Senior Year of High School #4

Many students lose steam during the summer between their junior and senior years. Of course, some loss of motivation is inevitable. Now is not the time to relax! Now is the time to think about your future!


I’m woken up an hour later by the sounds of notifications from my phone. It’s the hollow, quick ding of the text message bell, five in a row.

I roll over and reach into my bag. I don’t know who could be texting me so much.

I click through. They’re all from Sammie:

OMG, Vivi, call me.

Evan saw the photo.

Someone at St. Mary’s found the photo and showed Evan.

Virgo messaged me to see if it was really you.

I’m so sorry, Vivi. Call me. I’m here.

Oh God. The photo. My photo.

I scream into my pillow.

My mom and Mila come running into my room.

“Viviana, what’s going on?”

“I can’t— I can’t— I can’t—”

“Viviana, take a deep breath.”

“I can’t— I can’t— I can’t—”

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“No. Mama. I can’t—”

“You’re home now. You’re fine.”

She’s blurry, Mila’s blurry; everything is a spinning, blurry mess.

Mila’s glued against my wall, a look of pure terror in her eyes, and I want to calm down for her. I want to be in control for her. I want to be myself for her.

I let myself fall into my mom’s arms. She whispers to me that she’s sorry she’s been so hard on me, she’s sorry for everything she’s done, and I’m not sure exactly what she means, but hearing her words, hearing her admit her own mistakes, feeling her arms around my shaking body—it makes me catch my breath and I collapse into her. I let her hold me up.

*

“Okay, what’s going on?”

Normally when my mom says that Mila needs to give us time so we can have an “adult conversation,” my sister whines and complains, but this time, she’s allowed my mom to usher her into the living room without issue. Except for that one time in the hospital, Mila hasn’t seen me in the middle of a full-blown Episode. I guess this one was enough to scare her away.

My mom presses an ice pack onto my forehead. “Come on, Viviana.”

My heart’s still racing from the Episode, and it gets worse when I think about asking my mom for the truth.

“Talk to me. I’m your mother.”

I sit up and take a deep breath. “Do you know someone named Paige Griffin?”

My mom lets go of the ice pack and it drops on my chest.

“Oh no.”

I sink back down into my bed. “So you know?”

She drops her head and nods.

“For how long?”

She motions for me to move over in my bed, and then she sits next to me, pulls the blanket over her chest. “A few years only. But—” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Yes, I’ve known for a while.”

“How did you— Why did you stay with him?”

“You have to understand,” she says. “I’ve only kissed one other human being. I’ve only been with one other human being. I’ve only loved one other human being: him. I’ve been honest and pure with my love for him.”

“Ella was already born when you got together with him?”

She motions to Mila on the other side of the wall and shushes me to speak more quietly before she answers. “You mean when I fell in love with him? Yes. He was a graduate student and married and already had a child. But Ella does not belong to Paige. She is from his first arrangement.

“But I didn’t know that. I didn’t know anything about Ella or his other life. I knew that my parents had left for Israel and I was alone and in love with a man who promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. And he did. Your father did that for me.”

“So you’ve stayed with him because of me? Because of Mila?”

My mom smiles softly. “No. I’ve stayed with him because I loved him.” She wipes away tears from the corners of her eyes. “And, well, because right after I found out—first about Ella, then about this third woman, Paige—I followed them to the playground—” She’s struggling to get out the words. “I saw her, kissing him, and his babies, younger than Mila—and then I got so sick—”

“Oh, Mama. I didn’t realize—” I’m crying now, choking on my tears.

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