Juliana Haygert - Playing Pretend

My mother had been acting even more distant since I had gotten back from spring break a month ago, so it was a surprise to see the black Lincoln my mother rode in parked in front of one of the college buildings.

I had my own car. Why was my mother picking me up?

Smoothing the sudden surprise, but with a wary furrow shaping my brows, I slid in the backseat with my mother. She looked impeccable, as always, her legs folded and her back straight as if it had being nailed to a wooden board.

“What happened?”

“I’m leaving for an important meeting, but need to talk to you about something.”

Acid churned deep in my stomach. My mother never came to tell me something. When we needed to talk, she waited for me at the Executive Mansion. This couldn’t be good.

“The son of Senator Williams is here in Richmond, and I promised his father you would go out with him tonight.”

The acid in my stomach burned, melting my guts. “What?”

My mother’s eyes fixed on mine, outrage spilling from them, wrapping around me, suffocating me. “Is that a retort?”

I held my breath. “No.”

“Good.” She faced the front of the car again, as if the driver was invisible. “His name is Donnie. He’s going to pick you up at seven and take you out for a nice dinner. Then show him the city. His driver knows Richmond, so he’ll know the places you name.”

“Okay,” I said, my tone small, just as I felt.

“Now go.” My mother waved me off. “I’m on a schedule here.”

I opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, each of my feet weighted like two lead bars. “Bye.” I closed the door behind me.

The dark window went down and my mother leaned into it. “Do me a favor and pick something I would pick to wear. None of your short skirts or gigantic heels.” Her disapproving eyes ran the length of my body, examining the jean skirt and the wedges I had on. “Make me proud.”

Unable to move, my gaze followed the sleek car as it drove away.

When it rounded the corner, my cell phone rang. I checked the screen before answering. “Hey, Liana.”

“Are you coming?” my friend asked, her voice tense.

“I can’t go.”

“Uh-oh.” Liana tsked. “Your mother again?”

I snorted. “What else?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” I sighed. “It’s just … it’s been harder since spring break. I don’t know. Before it was easy to go along and blend in. Sometimes, I even had fun. It was … okay. Now? Now I’m having a really hard time blending in and pretending to care.”

“Oh, hon. I honestly think you are the strongest girl I ever met. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t have last half a day.”

And I had been doing this for years. Why, goddammit, did I need to feel bothered about it now? I could have gone another nineteen years oblivious to the outside world, not knowing how much fun normal people had. How nice it could be not to care about paparazzi, rumors, reputations, and careers. But that was only a dream for me.

I exhaled, trying to eliminate the tight feeling in my chest. Once more, I had to miss our skate date because of my mother. “Say hi to MaryAnn and Becca, please. Have fun.”

“You have fun with whatever the evil queen wants you to do.”

I grimaced. I hated the nickname Liana had given my mother. I ended the call and whispered to myself, “Here is hoping.”

* * *

Charlotte

Donnie showed up in the driveway of the Executive Mansion exactly at 7 p.m., wearing a brown suit and a yellow tie, and with the posture of a ballet dancer. Besides his neat grooming and his wide smile, Donnie looked like a young politician in training, exactly the way my mother liked.

A shudder ran through my body as I rested my hand on his outstretched one. He kissed it and led me to the Rolls-Royce.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

I suppressed the desire to roll my eyes at him. As my mother had requested, I chose a caramel pencil skirt and a burgundy shirt with a low V-neck. My long dark hair was up in a tight ponytail. I may look beautiful, but like this, I didn’t feel like myself.

“Thanks.”

Without another word, I tilted my face away and stared out the window, my mind traveling in time and my body longing for the memories left on a beach in California. The car started moving, taking me away with a guy I didn’t want to get to know.

Why couldn’t I find a Mason type in this life my mother chose for me?

Mason

I closed the box with tape, and then opened an empty one. I grabbed a few pants and shirts from my closet and threw them inside the box.

“You don’t need to go so soon, you know.” My mother leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed.

Her eyes were swollen. She had been crying since last evening, when I told my father and her about my transfer. But what was I supposed to do? I had been accepted to a great college on the East Coast, and with a good scholarship. Right now, my only focus was my structural engineering master degree and there was no way I wouldn’t accept it. Not when the other option was to stay here and be the same, do the same: go to the nearest college without a scholarship, work to pay my expensive tuition, and be worried about bumping into Tamara everywhere I went.

“I know.” I went to my closet and grabbed a few more things.

Though my classes began mid-August, I didn’t see the point in staying in town for the summer. I would only work the next three months and I could do that in Washington, D.C. Besides, it would be nice to get to know the city and make some friends before classes started.

“So you’ll just leave? You could wait until June. Just two more weeks until June. Please?”

I turned to her and tried to will my voice to be gentle. “Mom, you know I wouldn’t live in your house forever. I was planning on leaving anyway.” Not sure how I would have accomplished that, but still. I had wanted to move out for the longest time.

“Yes, but when you talked about it, it was still in town. I would probably see you every day.”

I sighed. “Again, Mom, you can’t expect me to always be around. I need to live my own life. Like you did. Didn’t you move away from your parents when you were about my age? And you never went back?”

She averted her eyes. “That’s different.”

I chuckled. “And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Because you’re my son. I was young and alone and trying to make my life.”

“And what I am?”

“Please, don’t act like you’re more mature than me. This is hard.”

I walked to her and embraced her. “I’ll always be your son, Mom, no matter where I go or what I do. I promise to call often, okay?”

“It won’t be the same.”

“I know.”

Stiffening, my mother pulled back. “I should go make dinner.” She left without looking at me again.

She descended the stairs in a rush and I shook my head. She was never good at hiding her emotions, but she was good at running away whenever the situation became too much for her to bear. It was her defense mechanism.

I went back to the boxes and packing. One more week of classes and research, then I would be gone. I was already looking for apartments and gigs around Washington. I couldn’t wait. Only thinking about it brought a certain lightness to me, as if I soon would be free.

I opened one of the dresser’s drawers and picked up my running and workout clothes. I found my running shoes under the bed and threw them in the box. Between finals, presentations, and packing this last week, I would be too busy to go to the gym. I would catch up after I found my new place in Washington.

I heard voices coming from my window. I leaned against the glass, watching as my mother cried, talking to my father. I glanced at my wristwatch. It was past six already. I had been so absorbed in packing and moving on, I hadn’t noticed time passing.

My father pulled my mother into his arms and embraced her. He ran his fingers through her hair and whispered in her ear. Such a sweet, carefree gesture. I had grown up seeing and admiring my parents’ love and affection. I was raised to think I would have that kind of relationship too. I thought I had found it with Tamara. Just to find out she cheated on me all the time.

I shuddered. Now, it was hard to believe that even my parents were truly happy together. Maybe it was appearance, pretend, so everyone would think that they were the perfect couple, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew I was just jealous of their near-perfect relationship and trying to come up with excuses to feel better.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that I was finally taking the necessary measures to recover. I was moving away from Tamara and all our memories that were cemented in this town—even though I had new ones, happy ones, with a mysterious girl. It had been two months since spring break, and each time I remembered Charlotte, I smiled.

Then I remembered she was gone and I had no idea who she really was. Anyway, I was moving on from both girls. I was going to immerse myself in my studies, I was going to find some gigs around the city to make some cash, and I would hook up with pretty girls without even thinking about serious relationships. I was sick of lies. If not getting involved was what I needed to do to never hurt again, then so be it. I was ready.

* * *

Mason

Since my mother couldn’t stop crying, she stayed home and Matt drove me to the airport. Brody wanted to come too, but he had some family event to attend.