“Hey, Mom, I have a phone, you know.” I walked over to the dresser to switch out my t-shirt, which reeked of smoke.
“Yeah, I shouldn’t come see my son so he can smoke all day or draw irrelevant things when he’s got exams next week.”
Classic.
I tossed the smoky t-shirt aside, pulled on a fresh one, and turned to her. “My drawings aren’t irrelevant?”
“I never said they were. I said, and I quote, Drawing right now is stupid because you have exams.” Her tone was cold as if she were about to deliver a court verdict instead of talking to her son.
“My drawing isn’t irrelevant, exams or not.” I felt my jaw tighten.
“And that’s why your grades are failing. Because you don’t care, you ungrateful boy. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position?”
Of course, she knew about my grades. She had her ways.
“Then go give those people the opportunity and let me breathe.”
I just wanted to be an artist, even if it was just on the side. Why was that so hard for her to understand?
“Oh, please, son, start acting like an adult and take responsibility. Maybe then I’d let you breathe.”
“So, my passion for drawing makes me behave like a kid?”
She nodded, unapologetic. “Everyone has hobbies, but only children and irresponsible people let their hobbies overshadow their responsibilities.”
“You suck, and maybe that’s why your husband left you for another woman.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Her face twisted in shock like I’d cut her straight to the core with a knife. I should’ve said something, apologized, or done anything to pull those words back. But I didn’t. She’d hurt me, too, more times than I could count. And for once, the pain was there on her face instead of mine.
Her hand struck my cheek before I’d even blinked. A stiff, loud slap. “How dare you say something like that to me?”
I deserved it.
All I knew how to do was hurt people.
But did that excuse the fact that I, too, have been hurt by the one person who should have protected me?
“You’re happy your dad abandoned me? But it seems you’re forgetting something—he abandoned you too. And when he did, I was here to give you my all.” A tear traced a path down her cheek. “You say I suck, but I was and still am the only one here for you. Just me. Only me.”
A chill ran down my spine, the weight of her words pressing on me. Regret hit me like a punch, seeing the pain etched across her face, the pain I had caused.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hoping it could somehow heal everything broken between us—the hurt I felt, the hurt she felt.
“No, you’re not. You wouldn’t have thrown it so carelessly in my face if you were.”
“No, Mom, I mean it. I’m sorry. I was angry and didn’t know what came over me.”
I reached out, gently wiping the tears from her cheek, pulling her into a hug, and moving my hands up and down her back to soothe her. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but…” The words stalled in my throat, heavy with unspoken truths. I didn’t want the life she had projected onto me. I wanted to be an artist, even if it meant doing it alongside everything else.
“I do what I do because I want the best for you. I don’t want you wasting your time on a frivolous competition when your exams are right around the corner.”
And that was it—we were back to square one. She’d never understand. I was already majoring in law because of her; how could she not let me have this one thing?
“I can handle both.”
“No, you can’t. You’re not Shakespeare or Da Vinci. You’re my son, and I want you to balance the right things at the right time.”
I pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “I love you, Mom, but I can’t stop competing in this competition.”
“Not on my watch, Landon. Not on my watch.” Her voice was hard as steel, and I knew she meant it from the look in her eyes.
“No, you don’t get to do that. This is my life.”
“And you’re my son. I won’t allow you to throw away what you have to chase after useless things.” With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
For a moment, I stood there, stunned. I thought maybe we’d been close to seeing eye-to-eye. But that was impossible—a lost cause.
I ran a hand through my hair, pacing. I needed a smoke, another hit to dull the edge. Or I needed to break something. Shatter anything I could lay my hands on—the glass water bottle on the dresser, the stack of framed photos I hadn’t bothered to hang, the vase I’d been meaning to take back to the kitchen. My hands clenched into fists, and a scream clawed up my throat so intensely it ached.
And then it hit me—a spark, a heat I hadn’t felt in a long time. Anger. Burning, determined anger.
This was my chance. I wanted to prove myself and pour passion into my art.
I sat down, hunched over my sketchbook, heart pounding. Determination buzzed through me, pushing me forward. I was going to enter that competition. And Mom? She wouldn’t stop me this time. No matter how many strings she tried to pull, this was mine.
I’d barely scraped through the week, juggling enough hours to get my artwork submitted to the competition and cramming for my exams. It was a hell of a week, and yeah, I just wanted to quit and sleep until the world forgot I existed. But I couldn’t leave, not for the competition or my exams.
So, I sucked it up, kept my head down, and burned the whole night with my face buried in books. And somehow, it paid off. I didn’t ace them, but I passed. As for the competition? I was still waiting to hear back, but hope was there, however small.
Mom hadn’t come by since our last fight. We talked on the phone several times without biting each other’s heads off, which felt like a minor miracle. But I’d given up on her understanding me. She had her picture of my future, and I had mine.
“Bro, don’t tell me that’s the only bag you’re carrying,” Roger said, all three of them raising their brows at me.
I rolled my eyes and threw my duffel into the trunk. “Yeah, any problem?”
“It’s a two-month stay; are you aware of that?” Roger asked.
“Thank you, next.”
The guys were bouncing like they’d just won the lottery. Maybe it was my mood, just plain old depression, but I didn’t share their excitement. Sure, summer break was finally here. But Jessica—my ex—was coming along, and the whole scene had potential for awkwardness. She had a jealous streak, and I couldn’t shake the thought of her watching my every move with other girls. Or worse, the whole group gets caught up in the tension.
But maybe I was overthinking things. The last time we talked, she had a new boyfriend and sounded head-over-heels.
“I brought some extra clothes. He can just borrow from me when he runs dry,” Caleb said, lugging three oversized suitcases into the trunk like he was a girl or something. He slammed it shut.
We piled into the car, with Caleb taking the wheel for the first shift of our five-hour drive. Just as we were about to pull out, another car pulled up, and I recognized Amanda’s car parked in front.
The guys erupted into shouts, and I wanted to shush them, but they were like little kids sometimes. Jeez.
I exited the car and met Amanda, standing by the curb.
“I never thought I’d see you come find me,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat beside her.
“You dumbass, you didn’t even try to win me back. You just said okay when I said I wanted a break.” She’d said breakup, not break, but I wasn’t about to argue.
“We just finished exams.”
“That doesn’t stop you from trying.” She pouted, her lips pushing forward, and when I didn’t lean in to kiss her like usual, she sighed. “Is that the amount of your love for me?”
Love. That word was the problem, wasn’t it? Had always been in every relationship. I couldn’t love, and that wasn’t something I could admit, not out loud. Not when I was supposed to be her boyfriend—or—ex—boyfriend, technically.
“I was just so busy and stressed.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s how it is with you. All the time. You’d rather give a stone your time than give me a second.”
“I’m sorry.” And I was. She deserved more than I gave her.
“Kiss me if you’re sorry.”
So, I did. Her lips were warm against mine, with a taste of mint lingering between us. She leaned closer, her fingers tangling into my hair, pulling me toward her. I held her by the waist, feeling the familiar pull of bringing her ass to my thighs. For a moment, everything else dropped away, and it was just us, breathing in sync and letting lust get the better of us.
Then, the honking started from the guys. Unfortunately, we broke apart, her fingers sliding out of my hair.
“Where are you guys going? A party?”
“Nope, just a trip to Caleb’s place.”
“Can I tag along?”
“It’s a five-hour drive.”
“At least I can come visit you, right?”
“Yeah, you can do that.” I gave her another soft kiss before saying goodbye and returning to the car.
Roger muttered as I slid back in, “Amanda has a large heart to keep returning to this dude.”
“More like she’s addicted to his dick,” Theo added.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shot Roger a glare.
“It is what it is. You keep ditching her, and she keeps crawling back,” Roger shrugged.
I leaned back with a grin. “Well, you can have her if you want, since you’d treat her so much better.”
Roger’s eyes lit up, but Caleb cut in. “Don’t be an idiot, Landon. Bro code is a thing, remember? None of us are breaking that.”
With that, Caleb fired up the engine, and we hit the road, off to a place I didn’t know what was in store for me.