Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(36)

“OWWW! Mom! Do you see how your baby abuses me? This violent behavior doesn’t worry you? You’re raising a demon!”

“Audre.”

“Is everyone in this house against me?”

“She’s not just my baby, she’s your sister,” Eva reminded Audre. “And back to the McDonald’s episode. Hell yes, it’s still a thing. Wait until you’re a mother and your child disappears into thin air. It sucks.”

Audre stood upright again, still holding her stomach.

“Listen, Audre. I know you’re not used to summers here. We don’t have a summertime rhythm and everything’s hectic in our house with the wedding, and my book, and the babysitter quitting, and the construction. I’m sorry it’s a mess, and I’m sorry you don’t get to hang with your dad and his wife, Alina.”

“Athena.”

Eva waved this off dismissively. “I’m sorry this summer isn’t what you hoped for. You’re my favorite oldest daughter, okay? I love you. I want your life to be perfect. But that’s not realistic, kid. I know everything feels hard right now, but life’s what you make it. You can’t forget responsibilities ’cause you feel inconvenienced.” Eva took a breath and then narrowed her eyes at Audre. “Is your rebellious era starting? If so, can you postpone it? We have a wedding and a book launch to get through.”

What about what I want, thought Audre. Or what I need? I’m a whole person with a life, not an extension of you or one of the problems you have to juggle.

It would be out of line to say this to Mom. But apparently today she was out of line.

“It’s always about you,” said Audre. “Isn’t it?”

Eva stared straight ahead, too stunned to even breathe.

“You have a book to promote. You have to meet your editor. You decided to make another daughter, you decided to renovate. What about me? I didn’t decide any of those things!”

When she saw the fury in her mom’s expression, she knew she’d gone too far.

Eva cut her eyes at Audre from the couch. “First of all, watch your tone. Secondly, we’re trying to finalize a babysitter. It’s not that easy. Obviously, I know Baby Alice is my responsibility. You’re not her mother. But you are her sister, and we’re family. We help each other when we need it. Got it?”

“Got it,” said Audre. She was tired of arguing. She was stressed out that her phone was all the way out in Rockaway. And she was drained from the emotional roller coaster of her day.

“I feel like all we do is disagree these days,” said Eva softly.

“I disagree.”

“Let’s please move on. I’m too tired to do this.” Eva slid her tortoiseshell glasses up her nose, squinting over at Audre. “Are your braids wet? Why is your mascara smeared? Where were you?”

“I just… I was… I went to the beach.”

“I thought you were going to that new boy’s house? Who’d you go to the beach with?”

“Reshma.” She knew she was going to lie before she said it. Later, she’d wonder why it was her first instinct.

“Come on, Audre. Reshma left for Argentina over a week ago. Why are you lying? You never lie.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

Now Eva didn’t just look angry, she looked hurt. “If we don’t have trust, we don’t have anything. I’ve always trusted you.”

“You still can, Mom. I’m just off today. I think I’m getting my period.”

“I’m once again asking who you were with.”

Audre fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “The new guy. Bash.”

“Huh. Okay. So, why are you sneaking around? Are you dating him?”

“No, definitely not. I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend.” How was she going to explain this? “Bash is just… he’s a guy I hired.”

Eva’s jaw dropped. She glanced over at Baby Alice, who’d gone completely silent and was now staring from her mom to her sister and back again, grasping her giraffe teether.

“A guy you hired? Audre, help me understand. I know you want to lose your virginity, but this ain’t the way.”

“MOM!” Audre clapped her palms on her cheeks almost comically. “Be for real right now. You really think I hired a sex worker? How? From where?” She paused, raising up her index finger. “Not that there’s anything wrong with sex work.”

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with sex work. A job’s a job. Maya Angelou was a sex worker. And I take pole classes!”

“Those are fitness classes, Mom. You’re not a stripper.”

“The point is, it’s not appropriate for my sixteen-year-old daughter to hire a sex worker!”

“I obviously didn’t do that,” groaned Audre, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Her mom was the most embarrassing person in New York. And possibly the entire United States. “I told you I’m writing a self-help book to turn in with my Stanford application. And I realized that I can’t authentically write about teen life if I haven’t experienced anything myself. So I hired a guy to teach me how to have platonic fun. You know, spread my wings.”