Obsessive (13 page)

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Blue,” Tash stammers. “I didn’t realize you were coming back for her. She said it would be okay. I didn’t mean to mess up the plan.”

The way she’s talking, you’d think she was staring down an angry WWF wrestler, not a middle-aged lady in yoga pants and a ‘Guthrie High Honor Society’ sweatshirt.

“Oh.” My mom stops short, looking over her shoulder at Gen, then back at Tash. “Well, that’s a relief.”

The entire vibe is suddenly awkward. I don’t know if she’s acting weird because Tash started it, or if Tash started acting awkward because of something my mom said or did the last time they saw each other. Which was….

That’s when I realize. Oh crap, I’ve never introduced Tash to my mom. The realization is like a hammer blow to the back of my head.
Of course
Tash wonders if my mom doesn’t like her.
Of course
she worries that I’m secretly ashamed of her. Why else would I not have invited her over for dinner, or asked her to hang out with my entire family, before now?

That would be the
normal
thing to do when you’re dating a girl and getting serious about her, right? Bingo—there lies the problem. It’s not that I’m not serious about Tash; it’s that I’m socially stunted and abnormal.

“Mom,” I say quickly, trying futilely to salvage the situation. “I know I talk about her all the time, but I just realized you’ve never really met each other. This is Natasha Bohner.” I know I sound totally formal and ridiculous, but functioning under pressure is obviously not my strong suit. “And Tash, this is my mom, Nancy.”

Tash holds out her hand, smiling nervously as my mom shakes it. “It’s great to meet you. Sorry about kidnapping your daughter.”

My mom doesn’t seem to realize she’s joking. Her smile is polite, but confused. “Oh, well I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose.”

I put my arm around Tash, hoping to physically reassure her that this isn’t the disaster it seems like. “Anyway, we’re going to go find a spot to watch the parade. Is it okay if we leave Gen with you?”

“Sure, have fun. Just remember, we’re barbecuing at six.” Then, almost as an afterthought, Mom adds, “Oh, and you should come along, Tasha. Unless you have dinner plans with your family.”

I smile gratefully, even as Tash cringes under my arm.

“Thanks,” she smiles, and it’s like she’s channeling Gen’s constipated beauty queen impression from before. “I’m not sure if I can, but um…I’ll check with my mom.”

Suddenly, I’m back in third grade all over again, standing next to my friend Matt after church. ‘Can Grant spend the night at our house mom, please?’ Matt’s mom smiles patiently down at us. ‘Sure, as long as it’s okay with Grant’s parents.’ But I already know my mom’s going to say no.

Mom always said no, and let me pretend she was the bad guy, but really it was because of me. I couldn’t be trusted to spend the night away from home, because other peoples’ bathrooms might not be clean enough. Or they might not have disposable silverware for me to use. Or I might have an attack and scare my friends.

That was more than ten years ago, but I still can’t stop myself from wondering if Tash might be using the same trick, using her mom as an excuse to say no. Because maybe she doesn’t want to come over, or she’s getting sick of spending so much time with me. Maybe I should back off and give her some space.

“We should go,” I say again, repeating myself, awkwardly. “Parade’s going to start soon.”

“Alright, I’ll keep Gen with me. You two have fun.”

Tash smiles tightly. “Okay, you too.”

I tell myself I’m being paranoid, that it’s not a big deal. But deep down, I can’t help thinking, what if? What if Tash gets nervous and says something really inappropriate in front of my mom, and my mom gets offended, and they end up hating each other?

I tell myself I’m thinking crazy, even as I lead Tash down the street, hand in hand like everything is fine. “So, that was kind of awkward.”

“Yeah.” She doesn’t make a joke, though. Just walks along, staring down at the sidewalk.

“Tash, what’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”

“No,” she stops walking and shakes her head, but she won’t look at me. “It’s not you. I totally freaked out back there. I don’t know why, I just….” Her voice wobbles a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone to like me that bad, except you. I won’t lie, it’s a little scary. It’s not…I’m not used to giving a shit, you know?”

I take her face in my hands, tilting her chin up until she finally makes eye contact with me.

“Relax,” I say, even though I can’t do the same. “They’re going to love you. Gen already loves you, and she doesn’t like anyone. I promise. It’s going to be okay. Will you come tonight? Please?”

“You really think she wants me to come? Like, she wasn’t just being polite or whatever? I really don’t want to crash your family thing.”

Honestly, I’m not a hundred percent sure it was a genuine invite, but I’m not going to say that. “Of course she does.”

“Okay….” Her face looks like a little kid’s, when you tell them Santa Claus is real. Deep down, they suspect you might be lying, but they want to believe it so bad, so they do. “If you’re sure, I guess I’ll come, then.”

“Excellent.” I kiss her, so she doesn’t see how nervous I suddenly am. My brain is already jumping forward through the day, past the parade, past the town carnival, hyper-analyzing everything that could go wrong during dinner. Even though today was going to be the day I stopped caring about what other people thought of me.

The problem is, in the mind of a teenager, parents don’t really count as people.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“What do you
mean
, the Goldens are coming too?”

“Just what I said, Grant.” My mom’s voice is patient, but I’m pretty sure she’s rolling her eyes at me when I’m not looking. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating and passing out in the kitchen, but she’s acting like it’s an everyday thing, like we have people over all the time. “Your father ran into him at the carnival, and he started saying all these nice things about you and what a great job you were doing. And apparently they had a few beers and started playing ring toss, and when the mayor said his wife was out of town and they were going to order pizza, your father invited him and his daughter to barbeque with us. It’s the Fourth of July. They can’t eat pizza; that would be unpatriotic.”

“You’re kidding me.” I can’t seem to stop shaking my head.
This can’t be happening.
Only in a small town could this actually happen.

“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart.” She steps around me, knife and cutting board in hand, and dumps a bunch of lettuce into the sink. Then she pours in veggie soap and washes it thoroughly, making sure I can see her do it. “We’re going to be eating outside, so everyone will be using disposable plates—not just you. Then, after dinner we’re going straight over to the school to watch the fireworks. You don’t even have to sit with us, if you don’t want to. Honestly, I thought you’d be happy. This way, your father will get a chance to see how much happier you are at this new internship than if you’d gone to Duke.”

As always, my mom is right. The problem is, she doesn’t know that the mayor’s daughter is a manipulative hell spawn who’s out to get me. And now she’s been invited into our house. Maybe she’s like a vampire, and that’s all the invitation she needs to come in whenever. I’m doomed.

“Now, can you stop overreacting and cut the carrots, please?”

I move over to the other sink and wash my hands in scalding hot water. The pain makes me feel a little better, like I can feel the germs dying on my skin as I boil them to death. I dry my hands with a paper towel, then use the sanitizer by the sink.

“When are they coming?” Maybe I can sneak out before they get here, or ‘accidentally’ slice my hand open with a knife and go to the ER to get out of what is sure to be the most uncomfortable, high-pressure family dinner we’ve ever had.

“They should be here any minute,” my mom says. “What time is Tash coming?”

My hand slips, and a piece of carrot goes rocketing across the kitchen.

Oh God,
Tash
.

About an hour ago, I dropped her off at her house because she said she wanted to change before dinner. She said she’d drive herself over around quarter to six. I look at the clock. That’s in less than ten minutes. If I don’t at least call to warn her, she’s going to feel like she’s walked into a trap.

Who am I kidding? I live here, and I feel like
I’ve
walked into a trap. Or some twisted reality TV show called ‘Let’s Give the OCD Guy a Heart-Attack.’

“Mom, I’ll be right back.”

Setting the knife down on the counter, I race out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room, where I left my phone. I shut the door behind me, then run into my bathroom and wash my hands again. Then I go back into my room and pick up my cell phone and dial Tash.

She answers on the first ring. “Grant?”

“Hey don’t get mad,” I say, while at the exact same time, she says, “I can’t come.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry. Something came up.”

She sounds upset, but not the kind of upset she’d be if I told her we had to have dinner with Melody.

“Why, what happened?”

“It’s just…my mom.” Tash makes a sound in her throat, like she’s choking and laughing at the same time. “She was getting ready to leave, and I made the mistake of bringing up the whole ‘Shelly’ thing. Anyway, it turns out she’s been waitressing down at this seedy biker bar on the highway for like, six months. She didn’t want to tell me about it, so this whole time I’ve been giving her shit about dating this guy from work, but really she’s been working her ass off to put all the money back into my college fund.” Instead of sounding happy, her voice is practically dripping with bitterness. “Anyway, it turns out that I’m a gigantic asshole, and my mom is basically a glorified Hooters girl—who actually gives a shit about me, to some extent. Which is…unexpected. Also, I spilled coffee on my most respectable dress, and I hate everything else in my closet.”

I’m trying to process everything she just said, but it’s a lot. “Are you…are you okay? Do you want me to come over?”

“No,” she says, too quickly. “I mean, I’ll be okay. I know I’m overreacting, and it’s not really like me, but I can’t seem to stop crying. I’ll get over it, though, I promise. This is actually good news. I’m just being stupid.”

I don’t believe her. I try to imagine what it would be like to find out my parents were lying to me about something that big, but I can’t. I definitely understand guilt, though, and the way it can eat away at you if you let it.

“Tash….”

“Seriously, don’t come,” she says, more firmly this time. I picture her squaring her shoulders, taking a deep breath, willing herself to be superhumanly strong. She laughs. “I’ll feel even worse if you bail on your totally functional family just because mine is dysfunctional.”

“They won’t mind,” I say. It’s a lie. I wrack my brain for an excuse I could use, something dire enough to rationalize leaving my parents and my little sister alone with Mayor Patrick and Melody. But I can’t think of anything. “Actually, speaking of unexpected things happening….”

Downstairs, the doorbell rings, and I flinch. It’s too late to sneak out. They’re here.

“Shit, hang on.” In the background, I can hear Tash opening and shutting doors. “Sorry, I thought someone was at the door. Anyway, I think I’m just going to go to bed, but I promise I’ll call you in the morning. Have fun with your parents, and please tell them…I don’t know, tell them I ate some bad hot dogs at the carnival or something. It won’t really be a total lie, because I do kind of feel like death right now. My eyes are all swollen and everything.”

When I picked up the phone, I had every intention of complaining to Tash about Melody and the mayor, but now it seems kind of unfair to talk about my stupid problems. Sure, it would’ve been nice to have her by my side, to give me the strength to get through this horrible dinner. But maybe that’s the problem—I’ve been selfish. I want her with me because I
need
her to feel normal. I want her to be happy because she makes
me
happy. I want my parents to like her so
my
life will be easier.

Maybe I’ve been confiding in Tash too much, and now she doesn’t see me as someone she can lean on when she’s the one having a hard time.

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say. “I love you.”

“You too,” she says, and hangs up.

The unenthusiastic response settles it for me. The doubt from this morning takes hold in my mind, and starts to grow. Tash might think I saved her on prom night, but every day since then she’s been the one saving me. Maybe she needs a day off, just like I need to man up and take control of my own issues. The same way Tash finally confronted her mom, and found out the truth.

Maybe if I can confront all of my issues, I’ll finally be strong enough to let myself look into the future and figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. Then take a stand, and actually do it.

But first, the dinner from hell.

I put my phone in my pocket and head downstairs, squaring my shoulders like I’m going into battle. I can already hear Melody’s high-pitched, obnoxious laugh coming from the kitchen. When I walk in, she’s standing in my place, cutting carrots for my mom.

“Hey Grant, looks like you’re not as punctual at home as you are at the office.” She shoots me a smile that says she knows exactly how I feel about her, how much I hate that she’s in my house, and she loves how uncomfortable it makes me.

I ignore her, turning to my mom instead. “Hey, I just got off the phone with Tash. She’s not feeling well, so I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

“Aw, that’s too bad!” My mom looks genuinely disappointed, while behind her back Melody’s smile goes from thrilled to ecstatic.

“I know,” Melody trills. “I was so looking forward to asking her about the whole prom thing. Apparently, her speech was legendary. We even heard about it at Saint Mary’s.”

“Speech?” My mom frowns. “What speech?”