Chapter Thirteen
Hailey
I felt so bad that Braxton always had to come and pick me up whenever I visited. I had started at the Child Development Center and it was going well. The teachers I worked with were nice and the kids were actually pretty cute when they weren’t snotty and needing their diapers changed. But I only got paid once a month which meant my first paycheck was still weeks away and even when I did get it, it wouldn’t be much. Maybe I should look into getting a second job waiting tables at Duke's.
“Waitresses make good tips, right?” I asked Tessa. The actual thought of waiting tables and touching dirty dishes freaked me out a little bit to tell the truth, but I was desperate.
“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“I was thinking of applying at Duke’s.”
“I’m pretty sure you have to be at least twenty-one to serve alcohol.” “Damn. That sucks.” I needed to check the classifieds again.
“Do you need some money?” she asked. “I can loan you some, you know?”
“No, of course not.” Even if I did need money, there was no way I would ever borrow some from Tessa. “I’m just trying to save up for a car.”
“Oh. Well, you can borrow mine whenever you need it,” she offered.
“Thanks, that’s really generous of you, but I couldn’t do that.” I was really embarrassed that she even felt like she had to offer. I guess I was obsessing about this a little too much. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me.
“Hailey, seriously. I don’t mind at all. It’s not like I don’t know where you live.” She winked.
“Thanks, Tessa,” I said quietly, still embarrassed.
“Anytime, see you tonight, right?” “Yeah, I’ll be back probably after dinner.”
“Have fun.” She waved goodbye.
The weather was pleasant today so I decided to wait for him outside the dorms. When he pulled up I hopped off the bench I’d been perched on and practically skipped to his truck.
I jumped into the passenger seat and threw my arms around his neck giving him a kiss on the cheek. He just sat there, open mouthed and stunned by my enthusiasm.
“What did you do to your hair?”
“What? Oh, I, um, cut it,” I mumbled, suddenly self-conscious. I had forgotten he hadn’t had a chance to see it yet. “Don't you like it?”
“Why did you change it?”
“I don't know. I guess I thought a change would be nice.”
As low as I felt right now, it was hard to believe that literally 5 minutes ago I was floating on air. Now I just felt like Braxton had popped my balloon.
He didn't say anything else, but he seemed annoyed as we drove the hour to Southlake.
Nobody met us outside when we got to the house. I felt like it was a bad omen and I ended up being right. Braxton's mom was not doing well.
Mr. Douglas was kneeling down beside her, his large tan hands clasping her smaller boney ones. His head was down as though in prayer. Brad stood behind him, his hand placed on his father's shoulder. He looked up when we entered the room and gave us a weak smile before returning his gaze to where his mother lay feebly on the living room couch.
Braxton walked in without hesitation and plopped down on the arm chair. He was still acting weird but now wasn't exactly the right time to mention it.
“How's she doing?” I asked
“It’s not good,” Brad choked up. “Her tests showed no change. The doctor is recommending hospice.”
“What?” I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room and my eyes filled with tears. I looked back at Braxton but he just held his head down, trying to keep his own tears from spilling. “Hailey?” she asked, her voice so weak it was barely a whisper. She was so lethargic that she didn't even bother trying to open her eyes because the effort involved was too much for her.
“Hi, Mrs. Douglas.”
I kissed her lightly on her forehead. She felt like ice. I reached down and pulled the afghan up over her shoulders.
She didn't say anything else, just drifted back to sleep with uneven breaths. Braxton, Brad, and I moved to the kitchen to allow her to rest quietly. “Dad hasn’t left her side since we heard the news this morning,” Brad confessed. “I'm so sorry,” I said, as I pulled Braxton's hand into my own and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“Are you hungry?” Brad asked
“Sure,” I said weakly. I actually wasn’t hungry at all. My mind was still consumed in grief.
We ate lunch and attempted to talk, keeping our voices down so we didn’t disturb Mrs.
Douglas, but the conversation fell flat more times than not. I don’t think any of us were up for talking. “I like your hair, by the way,” Brad said.
“Thank you.” I gave him a small smile.
“What made you cut it?”
“I don’t know really. My roommate was getting hers done and I just thought I’d try something new.”
“It suits you,” he said with a smile. “So what else have you been up to?
“Not much. Just school mostly.”
“Don't you ever go out and have fun?” Brad teased me.
“Actually you'll never believe what I did last weekend,” I told him, being sure to keep my voice down but unable to completely contain the excitement of remembering the thrill of performing on stage. “I played electric guitar—on stage—in a bar!” “Shut up!” Brad exclaimed, clearly impressed.
“Shh!” I reminded him. Then I continued, whispering, “I did! It was at this local bar. My roommate's boyfriend's band plays there pretty regularly so we went to watch them play and one of the guys was a no-show so I stood in!”
“You did what?” Braxton's head snapped up, clearly unimpressed.
“I played guitar with Set the Flames last weekend,” I said more nervously now in response to Braxton's reaction. “It's not at all my usual type of music—it's like punk pop or pop punk or something like that.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I don't know, I guess because they were desperate when Deuce didn't show up.” I wasn't sure why he was being so weird about this. “I wish you could’ve been there. I was kinda awesome,” I admitted.
“Deuce?”
“He's in the band.”
“Obviously,” he said with an annoyed tone. “Come on Hailey, I need to get you back.”
He turned abruptly and left the house, letting the door slam behind him. I looked at Brad who just shrugged. I told everyone goodbye and made sure to shut the door behind me quietly, unlike Braxton.
I climbed into the passenger seat and he immediately slammed the shifter into reverse, not even waiting for me to put on my seatbelt.
“What's your deal?” I finally asked.
“What's my deal? Are you serious? You're the one with the new clothes and the different hair, playing in a punk band all of a sudden! What's going on, Hay? Why are you trying so hard to change who you are?”
“I'm not trying to change who I am!” I snapped. “Did you ever think that maybe this IS who I am? That I'm just beginning to find out exactly who I am and what kind of person I want to be?”
“And that person is the kind of girl who chops off all of her hair and joins a band?”
“I'm not joining a band! I just helped out my friends!”
“Friends that I've never even met.”
“And that's my fault? You are the one who keeps blowing me off.” I was actually yelling at him now. I didn't think I had ever really yelled at Braxton before. Sure I'd been angry with him before now, but this time it felt different—this time I didn't feel like I needed to hold it in.
“You were so beautiful before Hailey, why change?”
“Are you serious? What are you trying to say that I’m not beautiful any more?“
“That came out wrong.”
“Whatever. Just take me home,” I finally said.
He flin
ched like my words hurt him somehow, but I wasn't really sure why they should.
“This is your home, Hay,” he said softly, almost defeated. “Here with me.”
The ride back to campus was just as quiet as always. For the first time it occurred to me that maybe that wasn't as reassuring as I once believed it to be. I used to think that the compatible silence was a sign that we were perfect for each other. That we were comfortable enough to just be able to enjoy each other's company without unnecessary chatter.
And maybe that's what some people wanted in a relationship—to co-exist in complete and utter contentment. The thing was, I wasn't sure I was content anymore and that scared me. We pulled up in front of the dorms and Braxton stopped me as I tried to get out.
“Look, I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry. It's just that everything in my life is so fucked up lately. My mom is dying. She's dying, Hay.”
“Don't you think I know that?”
“I guess I just thought I'd always be able to count on you to be there for me.”
“I am here, Braxton. I haven't gone anywhere.”
“You're here, but you're different. You're acting different. You even look different.” “This is about my hair?” I couldn’t believe that that was what bothered him the most. “It's everything. It's your clothes, it’s you hanging out in bars and playing in a band, and, yes, it’s your hair. You don't look like my Hailey anymore and I hate it, Hay!”
“How can you be so freakin' shallow? It's HAIR, Braxton! It'll grow back!” I snapped. I jumped out of his truck and slammed the door shut before leaning through the open window. “And you're not the only one hurting because of your mom. Yes, I realize that she is YOUR mom, but you know she's been like one to me all of these years. It breaks my heart too but I'm not being a jerk to you.”
I made sure to turn and walk quickly away before the tears started to flow. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was walking in the wrong direction, but as soon as I realized where I was heading it occurred to me that maybe this was exactly the right direction. Whenever I was upset, I turned to music. It was my sanctuary. Music was what healed me and right now, I was pretty broken.