It Started with a Bet...

I was wrong. I thought I would be okay. That it was okay if I was happy, but it’s not. I’ve been selfish, so selfish. Trina’s dead and no one is here to remember her. How could I think to leave her behind as well? I asked her if it would be okay if I loved. How could it be okay? How could it be okay for me to love if she can’t?

“Haley, what are you doing? Come, help me take this last box downstairs.” All my things are packed. Not the blues and greens at Trevor’s house, but the pinks and oranges that Mom moved back here a while ago. No. Not Mom. Trevor’s mom . There’s a difference, you know.

“Are you feeling okay?” Mom asks, putting a hand to my forehead. “You aren’t getting a fever or anything, are you?” I just smile. It’s harder now, to fake smile. I will have to work on that.

“I’m fine, Mom, don’t worry. Which box is it?” I walk to the car and put the last box inside. We’re going away again. I don’t know where. Mom wouldn’t dare take me to our old house. She says anywhere is better than here. She wants to know if I ever cried when I was with those people. She says “those people” like they are bad people.

“I cried once,” I tell her. “But I smiled, too.” She doesn’t understand.

“When you were with us you didn’t cry once! You were always smiling! Oh, those people make me so mad!” She bangs the final pot into a box as though it’s Mom’s head. Trevor’s mom’s head.

“Where’s Dad?” I ask her. She sighs.

“He has a business meeting. I don’t know what we’re going to do, though. I don’t see them letting him take a year off.”

“You don’t have to,” I say quickly. “They weren’t that bad to me. I’m okay. I really don’t mind if you take off again.” I sent them away so they could be happy. Everyone deserves to be happy, even if I have to sacrifice a little. She nods.

“I’ll stay for a little while, your father will stay for a bit and if you’re feeling better afterwards you can live on your own.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket again. My heart leaps the minute I think it might be Trevor. No. I can’t be like this. I ignore the buzzing, allowing the feeling to slowly torture me. I want to talk to Trevor. To hold him. To say I’m sorry for missing his game. He will be so upset. Isn’t that allowed? Don’t I owe him an apology? I reach for my phone, but stop myself. No. I’m not a weakling. I am Haley. I am strong.

We get into the car and lock the door. We didn’t take everything: just some of my clothes and a few pots. Maybe I’ll get to come back. And maybe Trevor…I slap the thought away and get into the car. I feel nervous.

“Mom, can I drive?” Driving always calms me down. I have to focus on the road, on being safe. There’s no time for other thoughts.

“Honey, why don’t you just relax?” Trevor would’ve let me drive. Trevor knows it calms me down. Like that day at the movie theater—I sit down in the seat and pull my iPod out of my pocket. Trevor filled it up for me a month ago. With all the songs I used to love but haven’t been allowed to listen to. The ones that he played in his car when we first went—I find ‘All I Ever Wanted’ and crank the volume up. I can’t let my mind wander.

We are at a hotel. For a while, anyway. Mom doesn’t know where else to put us. I want to talk to someone, but I don’t know who. I can’t call Clarice or Spike or T—anyone. I can’t call anyone. I tell Mom I’m going out for a bit and drive to Khalil’s Meat Heaven. Only Khalil would put meat and heaven in the same sentence.

“Haley!” He comes over to give me a big hug. “You are looking just the same as last time. Wait…are you thinner? What is this, baeta? You must get some skin on these bones. Come, eat.” Khalil is known for two things: screwing with idioms and calling me “baeta” which means “child.”

I sit down on the counter while he hands me the Arab version of a Rice Crispy Treat. The only difference, he says, is that they use vegetarian marshmallow cream as opposed to (he wrinkles his nose) “that disgusting piggy fat you Amrikans chew on.” Amrikan, apparently, is the same as an American.

“So, what have you been up to? Who is this Trevor boy you are living with? Should I go give him a smacking?” I shake my head.

“No. My mom came home today, so I moved out.” He nods and smiles. Khalil really doesn’t know anything about me. He knows I ran away from Trina’s funeral, and that’s about it.

“You are looking…what you say? Up in the dumps?” I laugh and shake my head.

“It’s ‘down in the dumps,’ Khalil. I’m fine, really.” He squints at me.

“You are a liar liar and your pants are bursting into fire,” he says seriously. I stifle another laugh. “You know what is always calming me down?” He goes to the back of the store where he keeps the meat. “A very nice yummy yummy burger.” He starts grilling. I know by now not to stop him. He won’t take no for an answer.

“She wants to move again,” I tell him, as he flips the burger over. He turns to look at me.

“You are moving again? So quickly? Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Right now we’re in a hotel, but—”

“What did this Trevor-Wevor-Whatever do, hmm? Are you sure I shouldn’t go over with a big stick?” I shake my head.

“He didn’t do anything wrong, really. Mom’s just…” I trail off, not wanting to give Khalil my whole life story. He shrugs and hands me the burger.

“Okay. Well, I’m glad to see you. You can just stay here or whatever but I have some orders to fill.” He washes his hands with soap, then goes to the back and takes out a large goat carcass. I sit and watch for a bit, then get up to leave. He smiles and waves over the noise of the saw as I head towards the door. I wave back and try to smile.

I don’t know what to do now, so I head back to the hotel. Mom isn’t there, she left a note saying she’s going out to buy and apartment. I remember Trevor’s promise. He said he’s take me job hunting this week. I know what won’t happen, so I leave a note saying where I’m going and head out to some of the stores Trevor and I had planned on hitting later.

“Hi, are you Haley?”

The interview goes reasonably well. Trevor had already set up an appointment with the manager for me and since he’s a client of Trevor’s parents…well, let’s just say that using connections isn’t all so horrible when you need a job and have the skills necessary to bag groceries. I start after school tomorrow.