Slammed(82)



She takes the box I was wrapping and returns it in front of her and starts wrapping it again. "That night I told you I had cancer, and you ran to Will's house?" Her voice softens. She clears her throat, still avoiding my eyes. "I need to tell you what he said to me, at the door."

I remember the conversation she's referring to but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

"When he answered the door I told him you needed to come home. That we needed to talk about it. He looked at me with heartache in his eyes. He said, 'Let her stay Julia. She needs me right now.'

"Lake, you broke my heart. It broke my heart that you needed him more than you needed me. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, I realized that you were grown up…that I wasn't your whole life anymore. Will could see that. He saw how bad his words hurt me. When I turned away to walk back to the house he followed me into the yard and hugged me. He told me he would never take you from me. He said he was going to let you go…let you focus on me and on the time I had left."

She places the wrapped gift on the bed. She scoots toward me and takes my hands in hers again. "Lake, he didn't move on. He didn't choose this new job over you…he chose his new job over us. He wanted you to have more time with me."

I take a deep breath as I absorb everything my mother just revealed. Is she right? Does he really love me enough that he would be willing to let me go?

“Mom?” My voice is weak. “What if you’re wrong?”



“What if I’m not wrong, Lake? Question everything. What if he wants to choose you? You’ll never know if you don’t tell him how you feel. You’ve completely shut him out. You haven’t given him the chance to pick you.”



She’s right, I haven’t. I’ve been completely closed off since that night in the laundry room. Maybe he just needs to know it’s okay. I need to let him know that it’s okay for him to love me.

"It's seven-thirty, Lake. You know where he is. Go tell him how you feel."

I don't move. My legs feel like jell-o.

"Go!" she laughs.

I jump off the bed and run to my room. My hands are shaking and my thoughts are all jumbled together while I throw on my pants. I put on the purple shirt that I wore on our first and only date. I go to the bathroom and inspect my reflection.

There's something missing. I run to my room and reach under my pillow and pull out the purple clip. I snap it open and remove my mother's strands of hair and place them in my jewelry box. I go back to the bathroom and brush my bangs to the side of my head and snap the clip in place.



21.


“Don't say it's over

‘Cause that's the worst news I

could hear I swear that I will

Do my best to be here

just the way you like it

Even though it’s hard to hide

Push my feelings all aside

I will rearrange my plans and

change for you.”

-The Avett Brothers, If it’s the Beaches



Chapter Twenty-One



When I walk into the club, I don't stop to look for him. I know he's here. I don't give myself time to second guess anything as I walk with false confidence toward the front of the room. The emcee is announcing scores for the previous performer when I walk onto the stage. He's apprehensive as I grab the microphone from him and turn toward the audience. The lights are so bright, I can't see anyone's faces. I can't see Will.

"I would like to perform a piece I wrote," I say into the microphone. My voice is steady, but my heart is about to jump out of my chest. I can't turn back now. I have to do this. "I know this isn't standard protocol, but it's an emergency," I say.

Laughter overcomes the audience. The rumble of the crowd is loud, causing me to freeze at the thought of what I'm about to do. I start to have second thoughts and turn around to the emcee but he nudges me back and gives me the go ahead.

I place the microphone in the stand and position it down to my height. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I begin.

"Three dollars!" someone yells from the audience.

I open my eyes and realize I haven't paid my fee yet. I frantically dig my hands in my pockets and pull out a five dollar bill and walk it over to the emcee.

I return to the microphone and close my eyes.

"My piece is called-"

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