Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(83)

“I’m furious you didn’t tell me about the panic attacks. What were you thinking?”

“I’m not supposed to have problems. Plus, you’re so busy with Baby Alice.”

“You’re my child, too. We’ll work on this together. I’m calling Dr. Cleveland on Monday morning.” She paused, stroking Audre’s hair. “And Bash?”

Audre froze. “What about him?”

“You really like him, huh?”

“I like him too much,” she admitted after a lengthy pause.

Eva let out a mighty exhale. “Look. I’m not gonna ease up about boys overnight. It’s all triggering for me. But it’s my stuff, and I need to work through it.”

“You should double your antidepressant dosage.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “I’m happy you have a fun crush. Life’s too short to waste it worrying about bad things that might happen. Look at me, growing!”

“Since you’re growing,” said Audre slyly, “can I ask your opinion on my self-help book? I know you’re against me writing it.”

“I just didn’t want you to focus on writing professionally. It’s too much pressure at your age.” She sat up a little. “But I’m working on my overprotective streak. Ask me anything.”

Audre sat up. “Okay, here’s my issue. My notes feel personal to what’s happening in my life instead of general advice for everyone. Will Stanford admissions be like, who’d take emotional health tips from this basket case?”

“Well, why not write to yourself? A self-help book written by you—for you. Like a ‘What I Learned This Summer’ essay, but with a therapy slant.”

Audre sucked in a huge breath. She had the title.

“Hey.” Eva’s voice sounded odd. “What happened to your wrist?”

Audre looked down. Somehow, her sleeve had bunched up and her bandaged wrist was exposed. Her mind blanked momentarily. Frantically, she searched for an excuse. A quick, easy lie. Anything. But she and Eva had just shared an afternoon of deep truths and revelations. Her mom was growing! It would be a slap in the face to their relationship if she lied now.

So, Audre went there.

“It’s a tattoo. A tiny one. Bash did it. He’s a tattoo artist! An unlicensed, underage one… but he’s got a huge future ahead of him.”

She shot her mom a brilliant smile. In return, Eva stared at her, unblinking, for what felt like five hours. Audre had misread the situation completely.

And there it is, thought Audre. The danger in having a “cool mom.” For one, crucial moment, you could get comfortable. You could get tricked into thinking you were friends. You could forget that she was also a capital-M mother who didn’t fuck around. The kind who’d sell your Shopkins collection on eBay after you, in a moment of show-offy sassiness at your ninth birthday party, told her to shut up in front of Ms. St. Croix’s entire class.

“You’ve lost your damned mind, I see.”

“But I thought you were working on your overprotective streak!”

“Up to a point,” she said through gritted teeth. “But when it comes to my sixteen-year-old class-president-honors-student child sneaking around getting illegal tattoos from a minor? Absolutely fucking not, ma’am. What’s he gonna convince you to do next? Freebase?”

“What’s freebase? Mom! It’s just a tattoo.”

“This isn’t about the actual tattoo. It’s about your decision making. Your impulsivity. The lying. You haven’t been yourself since you met him.”

She flinched with dread. “But you don’t understand…”

“Believe me, I do. You and Bash are over, Audre. I mean it. You’re breaking up. I won’t let him unravel all I’ve worked so hard to instill in you.”

Eva climbed out of her bed and stormed out of her own room—and Audre was left emotionally whiplashed. From Eva’s tone alone, Audre knew she wouldn’t budge on this.

This reality felt like a fist around her heart, squeezing it into nothingness.

There didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. Her stomach plummeted as if she were in free fall, the whole world whizzing by.

You and Bash are over.

How could she break up with Bash? He was already in her veins. He illuminated her entire world. Even when she hadn’t known where she stood with him, when their situation had been confusing and frustrating—every moment they spent together was electric. In a movie way. In a “this only happens to other people” way. And their tattoo experience? The way he’d handled her, so carefully and conscientiously. His touch, his brain, his kiss—his heart—had ignited a flame in her that she couldn’t bear extinguishing. She needed him.

She couldn’t imagine un-liking him. Un-caring about him, un-adoring him.

But she also couldn’t imagine winning a war with her mother—over a boy, or anything else. Turns out, Audre wasn’t an outlaw like the Merciers before her. She was a by-the-book, predictable “yes-girl” who craved approval.

So, Audre did what she was told.





Chapter 35


Was it possible to desperately miss someone you’d just seen eighteen hours before? A few months ago, Bash would’ve said no. But today, it was an enthusiastic yes.