Chapter 28: XII. Colder-3

A few minutes later, an older, yet still beautiful woman answered the door. She had to be Zoey's mom. Her hair, like Zoey's, was bleach blonde. Her makeup looked like a professional had applied it, down to the eyelash extensions which gave her a very youthful appearance. Her clothes looked to be designer, and they clung to her fit figure well. What made me certain she was Zoey's mom was the look of disapproval on her face as she looked at me. "Hi, Mrs Eckhart," I greeted politely. "Do we know you?" she sniffed. "Uh, no, you don't, but I go to school with Zoey. Is she here?" Mrs Eckhart nodded. "Yes, she is. Who are you?" I then realised I hadn't introduced myself. "My name is Sara. Sara Bryant. I just moved to town with my mom." Recognition flooded Mrs Eckhart's face. She knew my name. I wondered if Zoey had complained about me to her mom. But Mrs Eckart's expression didn't stop there. She actually looked nervous. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like nerves to me. "Actually, Sara, Zoey just stepped out. I'm sorry but you need to go now." And to my shock, Mrs Eckhart closed the door in my face. I stood on their porch for a few minutes astounded. Was I not allowed to be there? Had Zoey told her parents that she didn't want to see me? Why on earth would she be that specific? I took a few steps away from the house and then looked back at the upstairs windows. Zoey was watching me from the centre window, not even pretending to have "stepped out" as her mom claimed. She had a blank expression on her face as she looked down on me. I wasn't expecting Zoey to have all the answers and be my best friend. I was just hoping that she would be able to point me in the right direction, or at least give me a clue as to what the hell had gone on since the party. Something was going on, and I was determined to find out what. *** I didn't know where Shea and Cece lived. I didn't know where anyone else lived, and it was fruitless to be driving around for the rest of the day going nowhere. I decided to confront them at school tomorrow and demand to be told what was going on. I was pretty sure Mom was lying to me. Shea wasn't talking to me. Neither was Cece. Mrs Eckhart seemed nervous in my presence. I had had enough, goddammit. Until I had spoken to Shea, I wasn't going to confront my mom with my suspicions. The last thing I needed was to be wrong and to implode my relationship with mother. We had been as thick as thieves for seventeen years. I couldn't wreck that on the off chance I was wrong. That didn't make me any more pleasant to be around, though, when I got home. Mom immediately scolded me for leaving the house without telling her. I listened to the lecture for a few minutes before going upstairs to my room. I literally didn't have anything else I could do except study. Everything else was up in the air, and everything else seemed so much more important than a book that was written a century ago. I tried to concentrate on my homework, but my mind kept taking me elsewhere. I tried to think of which was worse: Mom lying to me, or Shea blowing me off. The thought of Shea taking off with someone else after how close we had become hit me like a punch in the gut. I hated the thought of him suddenly losing interest and ditching me. It just didn't seem right to me. I couldn't imagine it. Well, of course I could imagine it, but with how I felt when we kissed, how I imagined the stars aligning, the Fates singing the hallelujah chorus, I couldn't imagine that Shea would be the type to just ditch me without a good reason. Which brought me back to my mom. And honestly, if she was lying to me, even if it was to protect me, I knew that it would hurt more. Mom had never lied to me. The last lie she had told me was about Santa Claus. Mom had always been transparent with me. She let me know when she was struggling financially, especially when she was making it through med school and her residency. I learned to go without some weeks and adapt. She was always honest about her ambitions and her fears for me. How many times had she stressed that I was not to get pregnant, and that I was going to a four-year college? This honesty allowed us to have good times. It allowed us to be closer than most mothers and daughters, I thought. I didn't want her to lie to me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her reasons for not liking Shea. I pretended to study when Mom came up to check on me, and later on in the evening, she brought me up a chicken salad sandwich for dinner. "How are you feeling now, Sara?" she asked, feeling my forehead. "Fine," I replied. "Shea still hasn't texted me." It was the truth, but I wanted to see if I could elicit a normal response from her. Prove me wrong, Mom, I willed. Instead, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Well, at least you know now you can stop wasting your time and focus on your studies," she said positively. "He was never good enough for you, anyway, Sara," she assured me. "Okay, well, I'd better get back to it." I gestured to the open book I was pretending to read. She took my hint and left, closing the door behind her. A tear rolled down my cheek and feel onto the book, the pages soaking up the moisture. I grabbed my phone as a sob escaped my throat. Please. I don't know what's going on but I need you. I think my mom is lying to me and I need you. I cried as my message went ignored again. No matter what my mom said, how could he not come to me when I was feeling like this? If he needed me, I would be there in a heartbeat. I turned my face into my pillow so that my sobs were muffled. I fell asleep shortly after.