Hainsey

Damn her.

Damn Emyln Juliette Walker for caring about me, and for being able to see right through my bullshit lie.

I should have known that she'd analyze my response when I said Mom used the money to hire a lawyer. When things broke apart in my family, there was no way my mom would use my funds for a lawyer. Just like every other choice my mom has made, the drugs have tainted her vision of everything. If she were to sober up and realize what she's been doing, she'd hate herself.

I shake my head. I can't let the ifs, whens, and buts get to me. I can't stop living the life I have even if it is as shitty as can be. Life keeps moving forward no matter what you do. 

Ems knows I've lied to her. And if she's still the same as she was back then, I know she's going to dig deep to try and discover the truth. There is one connection between the two of us that I need to shut down immediately: Val.

She's the only one that knows everything about my life, and also the one left from middle school when Ems was still around. I know the two of them have talked and Val hasn't said anything. Yet.

That's the keyword. I need to enforce the idea that I don't want Ems knowing anything more. And I know that once I tell Val, I can trust her – she's never revealed any secrets that need to be kept.

Jogging upstairs to my bedroom, I decide against a shower and change into a new pair of clothes instead. I then gather up the usual: my wallet, the keys to my truck, and a sweater. Although the days are hot, the nights cool down immensely.

Before I leave to head down to the ice cream parlour Val works at, I check in on my mom. She's in her bedroom with all the blinds closed, and is passed out. Sleep is really the other thing she ever does when she's not busy with the heroin high. She's not a functional drug user.

It's a terrible thing for me to even think, but sometimes I wish she would overdose. If she did, yeah, I'd be upset. It's just...things would be a helluva lot easier for me. For one thing, I wouldn't feel guilty about enabling her to use such a deadly drug. Secondly, the money I'm making would be put to good use for my future. I turn nineteen in a month – I'm not supposed to be doing this kind of thing. I'm supposed to be creating a place for myself in the future. Yet here I am, muddling my way through each goddamned day that passes.

I sound selfish.

But sometimes the truth itself is the most selfish entity.

My mom doesn't deserve to suffer, and unless I can find a way to get her on the road to recovery, an overdose would be the best thing for her. She was a good person that got betrayed in ways she didn't deserve.

And I'm a kid that deserves an easier life.

* * *

The ice cream parlour Val works at isn't busy today – thank God. Usually, there's a line-up going out the door.

"Strawberry cheesecake on a waffle cone. Two scoops," Val says, holding the cone out to me as she sits across from me.

I frown at her. "I didn't order anything – I came here to talk to you."

"It's on the house," she replies, slouching in her chair. "Besides, you look like you could use a couple scoops of smiles and sunshine. What side of the bed did you fall off of this morning?"

I lick the ice cream. I know Val isn't going to take it back, so I might as well enjoy it. I'd be a moron if I didn't enjoy free ice cream on a hot summer afternoon.

I shrug. "I didn't fall off the bed, Val. I went to – "

"Wait!" she exclaims. "Let me guess."

I roll my eyes. Here we go again.

Val closes her eyes and rubs her temples. "Okay, I'm seeing a tall girl with lots of brown hair and some killer Birkenstock sandals. Hmm..." She squeezes her eyes shut tighter. "She also has a certain taste for strawberry cheesecake ice cream. You used to play hockey with her. You used to love her, and you just might still but you aren't willing to admit it..."

Val peeks through her mascara-coated lashes. "Am I on the right track?"

I shoot her a bored, unimpressed look, and all she does is grin teasingly at me, flicking her long black ponytail over her shoulder.

"Can't believe you, Hainsey Blake Stone, are blushingright now," she laughs.

I look at the ice cream cone in my hand, tempted to shove it in her face. But I decide against it because a) she's the only friend I have, and b) the ice cream was free, so I'm not going to waste it. Okay, if I'm going to be utterly honest here, I also go against my underlying motives because she just might be right. This morning with Ems...it was great and all, but there are many unsolved problems between us. And the years that have passed since she left play a big part too.

When I'm around her, it feels like I'm standing in the middle of a hurricane – the hate and love and longing push and pull until I feel like I'm going to tip. And all the memories we've ever shared seep through every crack whenever I see her or even something as simple as a picture. It's funny how something can come back so fast when you're trying to forget it.

Cutting her off is something I should do. I should have told her to quit the job. But I didn't. I'm the only one to blame here.

Val pokes me in the shoulder. "Hainsey's got a crush again."

I scowl, waving her off. "Shut the hell up, Valerie."

She frowns back at me, but I can still see the joking look in her eyes. "Okay – maybe you didn't fall off a side of the bed today. Someone had to have pissed in your cereal or something disgusting like that. What is up with you, man?"

Frankly, I don't want to bring up what happened between Ems and I today. So I change the subject: "When you went out with Ems, what exactly did you tell her?" I try to make it sound lightweight and neutral, but my voice comes out a pitch higher than usual. Damn it. There goes trying to hide how worried I am about Ems finding out the truth about what's going on behind the front door of my house.

Val gives me a sympathetic, understanding look. "Hainsey," she says, grabbing my free hand and squeezing it. "You know me better than that. Yes, Em is one of my best friends, but your life is your story to tell. It's not my place to go around spilling your secrets. So don't worry" – she makes a zipper motion across her lips – "these luscious lips are sealed."

I give her a meek nod. "Thanks."

"Oh, don't thank me," she replies. "Thank Margaret Atwood – she once said that the best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one. So that's what I'm doing. The night I saw Em, all we did was talk about ourselves. And when she brought you up, I didn't say much." She smiles at me, and I smile back.

"You're a lifesaver, Val."

We sit like this for a few more minutes, enjoying the cool air of the parlour, and my mind wanders back to Ems and how wrong it feels to sit at this table without her here. The three of us used to come here all the time when we were younger. We would buy the ice cream by pints instead of cones and try to make it back to Ems's house before the whole damn thing melted.

"Hainsey."

I blink and look back up at Val. Her brown eyes are full of regret and guilt. I raise my eyebrows in question.

"I know what Em did was wrong," she continues, "and that she broke your heart and all, but I don't like keeping this from her. Em's dad is a psychiatrist – he could help you out with the stuff that's going on with your mom. You know Em would help you if you told her."

I'm shaking my head before she even finished her dialogue. "No. Ems left me. If she still cared, she wouldn't have done that. She's –"

"No," Val argues, shaking her head. "She still loves you. I could tell by the way her eyes lit up when we talked about you at the bar. She wanted to know all about you and how you were doing." She looks at the friendship bracelet around my wrist.

Damn it. I thought I'd taken that off.

"Em made one exactly like yours, y'know."

"What?" I ask.

She nods at the bracelet. "Em made a replica of the bracelet she made you."

"Bullshit," I laugh. "She's hated bracelets since the day she was born, and every time I've seen her since she returned here – unwelcomed, I might add – both her wrists have been bare."

Val squints at me like I'm the stupidest person she's ever met. "She wears it around her ankle, dipshit. And maybe you'd notice that if you'd get your head out of your ass and start talking to her like the human being she is. Can't you see that she's trying to mend things? That she wants to make up for what she did? She's back now. Cut her some slack and maybe try. Just don't let the mistakes she made get in the way of possibly having a future with her, okay?"

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. Am I being too hard on Ems? I don't know the full story about why she left – I've only ever assumed that it was because of her parents' divorce. I wonder if there's more to the story. Should I give her a chance to repair what's been broken?

I sigh. "Fine. I'll treat her like a human being. But whatever she does to make up for this shit will never be enough for us to rekindle the romance. That I can guarantee."

"Ah-ah-ah," Val says, clicking her tongue and waggling a finger at me. "Never say never, Hainsey. Especially when a girl loves you – we have ways to get under your skin and infiltrate your minds."

I try to ignore how my heart picks up speed when she mentions the one word. Did Ems say something to her? Is it possible that she still has feelings for me? I know she cares, but could it be possible that she loves me?

I push the thought away. No. That is not going to happen. Even if I wanted Ems, it would be a terrible thing for me to drag her into my upside down life. 

So I roll my eyes. "Says you – the one that looks like a Spanish rose."

Val winks at me. "Gotta embrace the roots, Hainsey." 

We both laugh, and for a moment it feels like the old times. Easy and simple.

"Well," she says, getting to her feet. "It's time for me to spend the next three hours scooping ice cream. Besides" – she pauses and wrinkles her nose – "you need to shower – you smell like a farm."

As she walks away, I mutter, "I do not smell like a farm."

But maybe I do and I just can't tell because, really, I'm thinking of Ems. 

Go figure.