“What happened to sticking to the rules, so you get to sleep peacefully at night knowing you didn’t contribute to someone getting fired?”
“I don’t think I said that.”
Her eyes narrow as she tries to intimidate me into a confession. “I know for a fact you don’t remember everything your rambling ass says, but I do. You definitely said it at least five times. I think I preferred when you were wild. I heard about it less.”
Flicking her forehead with one hand, I throw a marshmallow into my mouth with the other. Emilia can complain all she wants. I’ve liked one guy in our entire friendship; she has been single collectively for about four days in as many years and I’ve lived through every stage of every relationship.
She owes me after I had to deal with one obsessed girl who turned out to be a drug dealer with scary friends.
“I don’t know how to feel my feelings. It’s like the opposite of the feeling scaries. What do I do?”
“You like him, like him? You don’t just like that he gives you attention? And because you know he likes you too and therefore won’t reject you?”
“I like him, like him. I think he’s a nice guy and he makes me laugh. He makes me feel seen and I don’t want to fuck it up because I don’t know how to be a functional adult. Why haven’t you made me go to therapy yet? You’re a bad friend.”
“What happened to ‘I don’t need to pay a therapist to tell me I have daddy issues?’” she says, rolling her eyes. “Okay, you want my advice? You’re not going to like it . . .”
“I’m ready. Tell me.”
“You need to wait until we’re back in Maple Hills. See how you feel when you get your freedom back and the camp goggles are gone.”
“Urgh,” I groan. “That’s terrible advice. Why won’t you just enable me?”
“Because I love you. Now move,” she orders, picking up the hot chocolate tray and nodding to the other one. “If you’re going to be annoying, at least be helpful.”
I try to be helpful, but my mind is working overtime this evening. Between the storm and Russ, I have too much nervous energy. I swear time is moving slower than normal, so I decide to do the one thing that can zap my energy like nothing else.
Leaning against the wall beside the communal phone in the main building so I don’t have to go outside in the rain and get my cellphone from my cabin, I count the rings as I wait for my mom to pick up. I’ve tried to remember to call weekly but the days are so busy here and a week passes in the blink of an eye, so I haven’t been great at remembering.
She’s pissed about it. She makes it clear she’s upset she’s not a higher priority every time I do remember to call. The rings are running out and I know this call is close to going to the answerphone because she’s screening me. She thinks she’s making a point to me, but in reality, I don’t care if she doesn’t answer because at least I can say I’ve tried.
“Hello?” She says it like she hasn’t got every number associated with this camp saved in her phone.
“Hi! It’s me.” I force as much enthusiasm as I can into my voice. “Just checking in.”
“Oh,” she says casually. “Hello.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine. Now isn’t a good time for me, Aurora. I’m very busy.”
It’s a Thursday evening and there’s a storm. What could she be busy with? She doesn’t go outside when it’s raining; she doesn’t like risking ruining her blowout. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, now you’re interested in talking to me, are you?” I can feel all the nervous energy from earlier being drained. Like somehow this very predictable interaction has recalibrated me. “I can’t just drop everything because you’re suddenly free to talk to me.”
“I totally understand, Mom. We can catch up another time.” This shuffling from her side of the phone and I hear something purr. “Wait, is that a cat?”
More shuffling. “Yes, it’s a cat.”
I feel like I’m being pranked. I look around the empty room, checking to see if Emilia is somewhere in the shadows waiting to jump out on me. “Whose cat is it?”
“It’s my cat.”
“You don’t have a cat. Do you even like cats?”
“I like this cat because it’s mine. I rescued him.”
A vision of my mom becoming a cat lady and filling her massive house full of them comes into my mind. “From where?”