Chapter Sixteen

TRIGGER WARNING: Brief mention of attempted s*icide. (The word is not said nor does the character go into detail on how it was done, but it is mentioned at the end of the chapter. You will see this (***) in the dialogue before it's mentioned.)

I could remember every little detail about my mother. Her smile, the way she hummed to herself in the wee hours of the morning. She could hug you so tight it would make your toes curl. The way she pulled her locks into a bun on the top of her head, and how her eyes looked in the sun were little things I loved. She had a nurturing smile, but couldn't compare to her contagious laugh. It could reach heights, and when she thought something was really funny, her eyes would fill up with tears. Before you knew it, you'd be laughing too.

How long would it take me to forget her? Would I remember her smell or her touch? There were things she did that no one else could. She left a spot only she could fill, and I guess I secretly thought she would return to it. But, in the end, hope was wasted on me too. When I returned home, she would be one step closer to being gone.

When I couldn't bear the thought, I went to my hideout. The heat from the shower clogged the air and the fan tried to keep it at bay. I could see the outline of my frame in the steamed mirror. It had been two hours. If it weren't for my subtle movements, Wren would've thought I was dead.

Turning my attention to the pile of chopped braids, I discarded the evidence of my summer hairstyle. The mirror cleared, revealing my reflection. It was easy to pretend my life was different when I didn't look like myself. But now, with my familiar mane of kinky coils, I was back to the same old me. Right now, I felt like there were two Noras. Summer Nora, and Real Nora, and I wasn't sure I liked the real version of me.

A ukulele chord sprung out from behind the door. One after another, he strummed until the melody formed. I shut the fan off. It was so quiet. He sat near the door. I pressed my ear into it as he sang, "I know what it's like to hate the silence, but I promise you're not alone."

He sang so quietly; I was afraid to breathe too loud. I didn't want to do anything to ruin it. "When your mind's against you, it points out everything wrong. But it's not you. And you don't deserve it."

He picked the ukulele strings, and when the last note rang out, I held my breath. "When the gray clouds settle and you see the sun again, know it doesn't shine because it has to. It shines because of you."

When I opened the door, he lifted himself up. He placed the ukulele onto the floor and I pulled him into a hug. "That song was beautiful."

"It got me my very first fan. This eight-year-old girl named Autumn. She found it online and said it made her feel like she wasn't alone. I didn't know I could do that, so I just...kinda, started making music from my heart." He chuckled, dropping his gaze. "As cheesy as it sounds."

"It's not cheesy." I pressed my hand into his shoulder. He looked up at me. Crossing his arms, his eyes said more than he thought.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. The song...just kinda reminds me of that time." He waved his hand and slid away from the door. "You okay? You were in there a while."

"Yeah. I'm fine. I was just taking out my hair. And I took my contacts out too. That's why my eyes are a little red." I put on my glasses and everything was clear again.

"You're lying," he said.

Turning away from him, I went for the television. The bedroom was practically the same size as the bathroom. Even if I wanted to hide, I couldn't. I wanted to throw myself under the covers and pretend the world no longer existed. Even though it was impossible, I'd try.

"What was your phone call about?" He joined me on the floor, snuggling under the blanket draped over my head.

"Nothing. Just my family decided when I get back we're going to...send my mother off. Finally."

"R-really? What changed their minds?"

"She's getting worse. They realized she's suffering and don't want to keep her if it means things will get worse. I mean, this is what I wanted."

"It's okay to be sad about it, though."

"I'm fine."

It wasn't good enough for him. Turning to face me, he pulled the blanket from our heads. "What are you trying to prove by saying that?"

"Oh, The Last Holiday is on." I devoured the distraction, throwing the conversation away.

"Nora."

Fitting. Not only was this my mother's favorite movie, but it was about a woman who decided to live life to the fullest after finding out she would die. It was the reason my mother wanted to be cremated if something happened to her.

"I would like to be cremated. I spent my whole life in a box. I don't want to be buried in one." On time, Queen Latifah's heart-wrenching line sprung out like a web, capturing the last bit of hope I had left.

It was the line that meant the most to my mother. Now that her life came to a close, we wanted her to live. There were so many things she'd never get to do. Sure, she'd never get to see Shae graduate, never get to see Nadia start high school or help Zacari pick a major. It wasn't the fact she would miss out on our biggest moments, or even that she would miss her own. It was the fact that after being alive for forty-five years, she'd already missed out on everything, long before life gave up waiting for her to realize it.

I could feel the lump in my throat before the tears came. It was no use in stopping them. "This part always gets me."

Without words, Wren pulled onto my hoodie and tucked me under his arm. I sunk into his warmth and with his soft touch, he let me cry.

We stayed like that until the movie ended. And once I stopped crying, the room fell quiet. The silence made my mind wander, and it drove me insane. "Have you talked to your mother recently?"

He rubbed circles into my back. "I haven't talked to her since I left."

"What?" I looked at him. He was serious. "But you left four years ago."

"I mean...we call each other every year for our birthdays."

"But you haven't actually talked to each other?" I knew their relationship wasn't the best, but I thought they at least kept in contact with each other. It didn't seem like his mother had done anything that bad.

"It's not like she wants to talk to me either." He slouched into the carpet, clenching his fingers.

"I bet she does, Wren. She probably doesn't think you want to speak to her."

"Well...she would be right."

He had no real reason to act this way. He punished her, isolating her, when he should at least pick up the phone and talk to her. I'd give anything to talk to my mother one last time. "Why? What could she have possibly done to you? Because she doesn't believe in your dreams? That's not a good enough reason, Wren."

"It's not the only reason."

"Well, then give me a better one."

He shot up, but there was nowhere to hide. The room was too small. He had to face me. "I don't need to give you a reason why I don't have a relationship with my mom."

He was right. He didn't owe me anything, but his relationship with his mother suffered. Even if he pretended like he didn't care, I knew a part of him did.

"I think you don't want to have a relationship with her because she doesn't support dreams of being a singer. And if you never give her any other reason, she'll believe that too. If you're going to ignore her, at least make sure she knows why. Maybe you can save your relationship."

"Can you stop projecting? Just because your mom's dead, doesn't mean I have to fix the problems with mine. You can't make me do something just because you feel guilty about how things ended with your mom. At least you still have one decent parent left."

I was sure I looked childish to him. Crying over my mother like she hadn't died months ago. Losing my mind when my father kicked me out. Wren had already been through this and turned out fine. Better than fine, if you asked him. And here I was, acting as though my entire life had fallen apart, but it had.

And projecting? What about him? He thought I would understand his hatred for his mother. As if I hated my father just as much, but I couldn't understand. As I stared down the barrel of my mother's death, he didn't understand me. He thought I was fortunate. Not because my father was alive while his father wasn't, but because my mother was dead, and his wasn't.

My phone's jingle sprung out from the corner of the room. I secretly thanked Val for the excuse and grabbed my things. "Val says the food's ready."

If I could, I'd run and put a decent five miles in between us.

The cabin was nicer than I thought it would be. Numerous rooms, panel windows in all the right spots. It sat a little ways away from the lake and the living room opened up to the outside. I could feel the heat before my feet even touched the wet grass.

Da-Bin's little brothers screamed, chasing each other around the area. One collided into my leg and fell to the ground. Before I could help, he sprung up and kept running.

"Seok! Apologize," his mother shouted from the table.

Twirling around, he mumbled a fast 'sorry' and scurried to catch up with his brothers. I could feel Wren on my heels, and I weaved through the arrangement of chairs to lose him.

Val didn't let me get too far before she was tugging on my arm. "What's up with you two?"

"He's being an ass."

Val sat me down at the kabob station. Peppers and meats of every kind lined the table. She punctured a piece of beef and asked, "What happened?"

I was beginning to think Da-Bin had superpowers. Before I could slander his best friend's name, he interrupted us. "Hey."

"Did he tell you what he said?" My question sounded like an accusation and his parents stopped in their tracks.

"I know," Da-Bin whispered. "But he's had a big day."

"What's that got to do with him being all moody?"

Taking a seat, he didn't give me the answer I wanted. "You should talk to him. He's by the lake."

I didn't move, stabbing the next set of colorful foods onto my skewer. Like hell, I'd go to him after what he said. I won't be the first to crack.

"Nora," Da-Bin sighed. "Please. You'll understand. Trust me."

I wanted to stay stubborn. Why did he have to send Da-Bin? He couldn't come to me himself? And what was left to say? We both said a lot, and I was done talking about his mother or anything else about his life from now on.

Dropping the half-done skewer, I took the quick path to the lake. Tree branches hung low and wide, creating a makeshift wall. I could feel the atmosphere shift the closer I got to the water. It reminded me of our bungee jump. How could we be so happy one moment, and so angry the next?

When my light steps broke a branch, Wren swiveled around. "Hey. I...uh, spoke with my mom. Just now."

"You didn't have to. Clearly, you didn't want to." For someone who seemed so upset with me projecting, he sure followed my suggestion.

"Y-you were right. I should at least tell her why I can't have the same relationship with her like I once did. I told her...pretty much everything that happened from the moment I left and up until now."

"Well...good."

"I wanna tell you too." He dropped to the ground, plopping his feet into the water. I begrudgingly did the same, but he didn't rush to speak. When I glanced his way, he looked deep in thought.

"I'm trying to figure out where to start," he admitted. "I told her I bungee jumped with you and that it was a big win for me."

So it was the bungee jumping Da-Bin was referring to, but that only made me more confused. I helped him get over his fear, so he treated me like crap?

Okay, I'll bite. "How so?" I asked.

He went quiet again. Closing his eyes, his breathing went rigid. I pushed away my pride and rubbed his back. "You don't have to tell me if it's hard—"

"No, I need to get this out." He forced the words out like he couldn't breathe. "I kinda lied about how I met Da-Bin. I met Val at the tattoo shop, but I met Da-Bin a few weeks before."

***"Okay." What did that have to do with anything?

"I met him on the side of the road when I was standing on the ledge of a bridge. He...saved my life."

"Oh my God."

He hung his head and buried himself in his arms. He cried so hard I hugged him. Tears flooded my eyes. I was being way too hard on him. Everything wasn't about me. He may have dedicated his summer to me, but it didn't mean he didn't have his own problems. I was being selfish.

"It's never been about my dreams. Being a musician saved my life the same way Da-Bin did, but before all this, I was just me. And no matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough in my mom's eyes. To look at your parent, the only one you've got, and literally see how much you disappoint them, it's hell. She never allowed me to be good at anything. I had to be exceptional, and I got one chance. If I missed up, I was just like my father."

I understood pressure. It wasn't easy to live with, especially when it came from your family. But I never had to wonder if they would be there for me. If I didn't have someone around to root for me or tell me I was doing a good job, I don't think I would've gotten as far as he had. "I can only imagine."

"When I finally left, it wasn't as fulfilling as I thought it would be. I was terrified of being on my own. All my life I'd heard I wasn't good enough. What if my mom was right? What if I deserved to be bullied in school and overlooked by my family? I was supposed to be happy, and I wasn't, so maybe I wasn't meant to be."

"So you..." I couldn't even finish.

"I don't know if I was going to do it, but when Da-Bin pulled me off that ledge, I didn't feel relief; I felt terrified. I didn't know I could go that far. And I've been afraid of falling ever since."

Why did I make him jump? "Had I known, I would have never suggested it."

"No," he finally faced me. "I'm glad you did. I've been scared of that part of me, but today, I jumped and I didn't die."

"You didn't die," I confirmed.

"That's why I can't be more than this. I can't get a record deal or sell out Madison Square Garden. I can't even make music. I don't think I could handle it. That's why I got mad at what Val said. I know she doesn't know everything, but I'm trying in my own way to still be happy, to make others' lives better because...I need to feel like I can do something."

"You are. You will. You have. You don't have to strive to be perfect anymore. You're good enough, even when you don't feel like it. Just like you said, all music is good music because it's timeless to someone. So are you. You're timeless to me, but it's more than that. You weren't just put on this earth to be something for someone else, you're here because of you."

I grabbed his hand and pressed it into his chest. "That's what your song means. When the gray clouds settle and you see the sun again, know, it doesn't shine because it has to. It shines because of you. Your heart doesn't beat for anyone else but you."

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