Chapter 32: XIV. Tell Me-2

I didn't think it was possible to be more confused than I already was. Shea was speaking in riddles and I couldn't deal with it. "What are you so convinced that I will do?" "You will either be in the thick of it, which I can't have, or you will leave, and I can't have that either," he said simply. "So my only option, for now, is to leave you in the dark, and to keep my problems away from you." "Shea, if this is about what my mom said I –" "It's not about your mom, Sara," Shea interrupted. Like hell it wasn't. "I heard her say that I wasn't like you. What does that mean?" That I wasn't in a gang? Was Shea in a gang? Shea actually smiled down at me. "You aren't like me. Be glad of it. You have opportunities that a lot of people I know don't have." What? Like my mom could afford to send me to a good college? Shea released me and took a step back. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Please, just stay out of it. Go to school, work, do your homework. Everything will be normal, and I will deal with my problems. I promise things will get better." Was he seriously asking me to sit on my hands and wait for him? Did he seriously just tell me to do my damn homework? Who did he think he was, my father? After essentially telling me nothing about what was going on? "Was that what today was all about? Everyone ignoring me? You're trying to keep me out of it?" I felt the tears coming back and I fought them hard. Shea nodded begrudgingly. "I thought it would be easier to keep you out of it if you weren't speaking to any of … my friends." "But Cece is my friend. She wouldn't just shut me out. Why the hell would Cece agree to that?" I demanded to know. "Because I told her to," Shea said simply. "I am her older brother," he added. No. Nope. This was ridiculous. I was not going to let this charade, lie, or whatever it was, ruin my day any longer. Mom was lying to me. Shea was hiding things from me, and he had already lied to me this afternoon. They didn't want to tell me the truth? Fine. "I have to go. I have a date." Okay, it was childish and immature, but the reaction on Shea's face made me feel slightly better, which was nice considering how I had been feeling for the last three days. I could have sworn Shea's eyes turned black, almost animalistic, but in a split second, they were brown again. I must've imagined it, I told myself. "You have a what?" Shea spat. I didn't reply. I turned on my heel and marched back to my car. I heard Shea momentarily pause behind me before he followed me. As I opened the driver's side door, he caught it, blocking me from getting inside. "Sara," he appealed. "Shea," I replied bluntly. "You're not dating." The way he said it was like he had decided for me. The decision was made. Shea was in charge. What he says goes. Well, that just pissed me off. "Maybe you can boss your sister around, andhalf the school, but you can't tell me what to do," I snapped. "Get out of my way. I want to go and spend some time with someone who isn't lying through his teeth." I clenched mine as I spoke. Shea conceded and released my door. I could tell that he was trying to hide his emotions from me, and the small amount of pleasure his pain had brought me was quickly evaporating. My stupid conscience, and my stupid heart, didn't want to hurt him. Tonight wasn't even a date. There was going to be other people there. Why did I have to be crushing on Shea? Why couldn't I have a thing for a football player like Josh who would let me wear his letterman jacket like we were in a 50s movie? "Bye, Shea," I said quietly as I climbed into my car. Shea stepped back from my car and I started my engine. I wondered at what I had actually achieved as I drove away from Shea's house. I looked at him in my rear vision mirror. He hadn't moved. He was still standing out front, watching me leave. The tears that had been threatening began to fall as Shea faded into the distance. He was okay. At least I knew that. He had been in some kind of fight, with whom, and for what purpose, I still didn't know. But he was alive. Shea was also involved in something big. Something that was so bad that he didn't want me involved in it. In some backwards, masochistic way, he was trying to protect me. But I didn't need protecting. I needed my boyfriend to communicate with me and not blow me off. Speaking of being blown off, I had learned that Cece and half the school population where ignoring me at the behest of Shea. How freaking messed up was that? Was being shunned supposed to make me less determined to find out what the hell Shea was caught up in? What pissed me off even more was that Cece would even go along with it. If Shea had told me to stay away from my friend, I wouldn't have listened. I wouldn't do that to a friend. I was then suddenly reminded of how Mrs Eckhart had behaved towards me when she had found out who I was. She immediately didn't want anything to do with me. At first I had believed she was just being rude because Zoey didn't like me. But was she involved in this somehow too? Did Shea's shun order extend to the parents of his friends? What eighteen-year-old had that much influence? Lastly, I had come to the conclusion that whatever Shea was involved in, my mom knew what it was. She had claimed I wasn't like Shea. He was dangerous. He needed to stay away. What was Shea supposedly like? Was he a damn gangster or something? I shook my head and dismissed that ridiculous idea. Shea lived modestly. Weren't gangsters rolling in illegal money? What the hell could it be? I got home just before six. To my surprise, my mom's car was in the driveway. I then fished my phone out of my book bag and saw there were half a dozen missed calls from her, and a bunch of texts asking where I was. As I scrolled down my notifications, I noticed I had nothing from Shea. I wasn't surprised, but I was regretfully disappointed. I cut the engine and climbed out of my car. The front door was practically pulled off the hinges before I got a chance to fish my keys out of my bag. Mom's green eyes were wide, but filled with relief as she assessed me, checking me for injury, I was sure. "Oh, Sara, where were you?" she cried, pulling me into a hug. I felt a kind of indifference to my mom. Something had changed between us. Not the love. I knew she loved me, and I loved her, but the trust wasn't the same. She was lying to me and had been lying. It made me wonder what other lies she had told me, what other false truths I had fallen for. But the idea of confronting her, of shattering this bubble that we still had, brought bile to my throat. If I was right, everything was gone. Our relationship would be forever changed. Everything I knew would be altered. Mom was the only person I had. It had always been the two of us, and if I lost her? Well, the idea was simply devastating. "I went to see Shea," I replied honestly. I saw anger flash across her face before she quickly composed herself. "You went out there?"she asked in disbelief. "You knew where he lived?" I retorted. "Don't change the subject," she snapped. "Sara, you need to let this go!" she insisted. "He's not talking to you. He's not worth your time." "He had been hurt, Mom." I folded my arms across my chest. "Shea's face was all bruised, and I'm fairly certain there's an injury on his back." I recalled the softness underneath his shirt that I believed to be bandage. Deep breath, Sara, I told myself, and followed my instruction. "Did you know anything about it? Did you help him?" It would explain why Shea was here in the middle of the night. If he couldn't go to the emergency room, he might have sought out my mom. What sort of conflict would prevent him from going to the emergency room? Goddammit, I wanted to know what was going on. Mom recoiled from me and a look of shock appeared on her face. "What?" she gasped. "Of course not. But that only strengthens my resolve. You see, a boy who gets into fights is not the boy for you." I rolled my eyes. "Mom, please," I begged. Tell me the truth before I call you out for lying, I internally pleaded. "Did you help him when he was here the other night?" "He wasn't here," Mom said firmly, furrowing her eyebrows angrily. Damn it. "He was," I replied softly. She wasn't going to tell me the truth. She would rather lie through her teeth than tell me the truth. Like someone else I knew. "I know he was. I heard you arguing. I know you're lying to me about something, Mom. I'm going to find out what it is. But you could tell me, and I would try to forgive you." I was being sincere. She was my mom. Of course I would forgive her. But she had to meet me half way. If I had to work this out on my own and she continued to lie to me then where would that leave us? "Sara," Mom began seriously. "You need to listen to me." Holy crap. She was going to tell me. I mentally prepared myself for whatever it was. Gangs, thugs, drugs, anything. I mean, there was no possible way I could prepare myself for those things, but at least the notions had entered my brain before they escaped her mouth. Mom put her hands on the sides of my arms and looked into my eyes. "You are not like Shea, okay?" she said slowly. "You need to stay away from him." My heart sank as I shook off her hands. "For God's sake, Mom!" I exclaimed in frustration. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm not like Shea?" Mom chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "I mean that you are practically a different species!" she cried. "You, my darling, are going places! You are smart, and good, and kind, and you'll go to college and make a life for yourself! Shea is going nowhere. His life is in this town with his people and that is all he will ever be." I felt like punching something. We seriously had not just come back to the college argument. "Mom, so help me, if you don't tell me the truth about … everythingthen I am never speaking to you. You can forget college. I will work until I can afford my own apartment," I threatened. Mom flinched. I knew I'd hit a soft spot for her. But she didn't say anything. She didn't say a word. She just stood there and stared at me sadly. Whatever it was, whatever she was hiding, it was more important for her to keep it from me than it was to have open honesty with her own daughter. Even if it meant sacrificing our relationship. I turned on my heel. I wasn't about to give her any more time to obliterate what was left of our trust. I stomped upstairs and immediately climbed in the shower. I didn't turn on the fan, letting the steam fill the bathroom. And I cried. I cried for Mom. I cried for Shea. I cried for the life I knew before now. I cried for New York. I cried for my plans. My simple life plans. I cried for my past. I cried for my future. What the hell had just become of my life? How could it all just suddenly turn to crap? What had I done in a previous life to deserve this?