Chapter 28

"Your Mom called again," Caleb told me, the next day.

   He was making lunch, some sandwiches and a huge salad. I was surprised by how casually he said this.

   "Okay," I said back, closing my novel that I had been reading, for English.

   "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, placing the salad bowl on the table.

   I shrugged. "Maybe."

   I watched as he put out some plates, poured us some water and then sat down, waiting for me to join him. I walked over, pulling out the chair across from him.

   Truthfully, I had been thinking about my Mom a lot. I was seventeen, and I needed her, even if she had made some poor decisions in her mothering me. It was foolish of me to think I'd never talk to her again. But was I ready?

   "Fox is on her way over," Caleb said, and I knew what this meant. If I wanted to talk, do it now.

   I took a bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly. Then, finally, I spoke. "I think I might call her."

   Caleb just smiled. "Yeah?"

   "Maybe. I mean, I guess I'm considering it."

   "It's going to be messy," he said, then shrugged. "And it might not end up how you plan it."

   "Nothing every really does, for me," I answered. "But I'm in such a strange place in my life. Honestly, if I don't do it now, I might never."

   "Why do you say that?"

   "I'm going to New York. It's only like seven months away. And I'm not going to look back, you know? Once I'm gone."

   Caleb looked surprised, but smiled. "I guess I better get used to the drive to New York, then."

   IM FREE! SORT OF. MY DAD SAID YOU CAN COME OVER, Maribella texted a little while later.

   OKAY. SEND THE ADDRESS. ILL HEAD OVER SOON.

   22 WALTON AVE.  HOW WAS THE REST OF THE PARTY? she asked. 

   I'LL TELL YOU LATER. SEE YOU IN 30?

   AWESOME.

   I told Caleb that I was going to hang out at Maribella's, then tossed on a sweater and slipped into my shoes. I took the elevator down, not thinking about anything. I was looking forward to seeing Maribella, but when the elevator doors opened and I was face to face with Bennett, I practically stopped breathing.  His hair was wet, so I assumed he had been swimming.

   "Talk to me, please," he begged, surprised to see me.

   "Why?" I asked, stepping around him. "You won't talk to me."

   "I just... can't. It's so stupid," he said, shaking his head.

   "It is stupid. Because I feel like I could tell you anything. Like how I might actually call my mom, because I miss her a lot. But you can't tell me whatever it is you're hiding." I just kept my eyes on him.

   He looked like I'd hit him in my stomach. "Iris, I'm sorry."

   "Me too," I said, taking a few steps away.

   "Please. Can we not be fighting?" he asked, raising his voice.

   I looked back. "You know how to fix this."

   "So, what do you think he's not telling you?" Maribella asked, after I filled her in on all the stuff that had happened.

   "Drugs, I assume. I don't know if he's dealing again or using," I told her, then shook my head.

   "How do you feel about that?" she wanted to know.

   I flopped back down onto her bed. Her house was nice, two stories - her bedroom and her sister's were the only rooms on the second floor. I'd met her Dad, who was small and sort of mean looking, but he was nice enough to me.

   "I don't really care, I just wish he'd be honest with me," I sighed.

   "I'm so glad you came over. My Dad's been so angry with me. I think he's happy to see I have a real friend," Maribella changed the subject.

   "You don't have friends from school?" I asked her.

   She shrugged. "I do, but I'm not really close with any of them."

   "I'm glad we met," I smiled at her. "You're the coolest girl in Charlottesville."

   "Ha," she snorted, tossing a pillow at me. "Oh! My birthday is the week after Christmas. My Grandma, in Belport, always has a party for me at her house. Do you want to come?"

   "Sure," I replied quickly. "I'd love to."

   She looked thrilled, but soon changed the subject back again.  "Talk to Bennett. I can tell he's important to you."

   "I want to. But I..."

   "Do you want to lose him?"

   I shook my head. "No."

   "Then give him a break."

   I nodded, but mostly so she'd stop talking about it. I wanted to tell her about my mom. I wanted her opinion on what I should do about that.  But she had never mentioned her own mother - I didn't know if she was around or even if she was alive. Maribella and I were friends, but we still had secrets to keep.

   The next afternoon, Bennett was at the door, again.  He was wearing jeans and a band t-shirt, a hat covering his hair, a piece still in his eyes.  My heart beat sped up when I saw him, but I remembered quickly that I was still mad at him.

   "Is your uncle here?" he asked, cautiously.

   "You came to see my uncle?" I asked back.

   "No. But if he's here... I can't tell you what I need to tell you..."

   "No, he's not here," I replied, stepping back, so he could come in.

   I sat on the sofa, waiting. He sat beside me, on the edge. He tapped his toe a few times, then cracked his knuckles, stalling.

   "Did you come here to talk?" I asked him.

   "Yeah," he said, then added, "I don't want to lose you."

   "Okay. So talk," I told him.

   He took a deep breath in. "I've been selling weed, for the past couple weeks. I mean, I've been smoking it, too. But I'll be in so much trouble if my parents find out," he admitted, barely looking at me.

   "Why are you selling again?" I asked, then added, "I mean, I figured you were. I'm not dumb. Why didn't you just tell me?"

   "Stone... the guy that I sold for before I went to rehab- he's dangerous. And he left me alone for like a year, but I owe him, and he was threatening me-"

   "Why do you owe him?" I wanted to know.

   "When I got in trouble at school and got sent to rehab, I had a stash of coke in my bedroom that I was still supposed to sell. Well, my parents ran sacked my room and basically flushed a thousand dollars worth of cocaine, so I didn't get into more trouble."

   "Shit."

   "Yeah. So, Stone left me alone for awhile while I was in rehab and a bit after, but I knew he would be back in touch with me. So, a couple weeks ago he started texting me. I have to sell a lot of this new weed he has, to pay off my debt. But I have to be more careful... I can't sell to kids at school -"

   "So you've been meeting random people to sell them weed?" I asked, in disbelief.

   "Well, yeah. It's just... I didn't want you to think I was some bad guy. Also, my sister couldn't find out. And you and I... we just got to a good place."

   "I don't really care that you're selling weed," I shook my head. "If it's just weed."

   "Yes. And when I sell the rest of what I have, I'm done for good," he promised. I didn't reply, so he moved a bit closer and asked,  "What are you thinking about?"

   I shrugged. "My ex, in California, was never really honest with me. He expected everything from me, but he lied, and he cheated. I just want you to tell me the truth."

   "I am."

   I nodded. "Okay."

   "Are we good? I hated that you were so mad, at the party." He touched my hand. 

   "I hated that you were out selling drugs while we were supposed to be having a good time, at your party," I told him.

   "I'm sorry, Iris. I'll be honest about it with you, now." His eyes were so dark now and I knew he just wanted us to be okay.

   "Do you want to stay for dinner?" I asked him, instead of saying anything else about it.

   "I would love to," he finished, squeezing my hand.