The Distance Between Us

up and turn toward her. “Are you okay?”
    “Of course. Just tired.” She disappears as she walks into the kitchen that is separated from where I sit by a single wall.
    “Really?”
    “Yes. I’m fine.”
    I grab the magazine and shove it in my pocket.
    After banging around in the kitchen for a while, she yells out, “Did you have fun?”
    I walk the four and a half steps to the television and turn it off then wait for her to join me on the couch. “Yes. We went to Skye’s and did some grave digging. It was pretty cool.”
    “That sounds great. I wish you would’ve had your friend come in. I wanted to meet him.”
    No, you didn’t. You would’ve hated to meet him. “He has a doll phobia. Some childhood trauma.”
    “Really?”
    “Not really, Mom.”
    “You are hilarious, Caymen.”
    “You’re getting good at sarcasm.”
    She laughs. “So is this friend a boyfriend?”
    “We’re just friends.” But are we even that now?
    “Well, if that’s all you’re looking for then you better watch it because you know the difference between a ‘boy friend’ and a ‘boyfriend.’”
    I roll my eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah.”
    “Just a little space,” she says. “Don’t go breaking hearts.”
    “You’re like Socrates or something, Mom.”
    “I am, aren’t I?” I hear a cupboard open and shut and prepare for her to join me on the couch when she says, “Thanks for the sandwich, sweetie. I’ll eat it tomorrow. I ate while I was out.”
    “Okay.”
    “I’m sorry to come in and then crash on you, but I’m heading to bed.”
    “At eight o’clock?”
    “It’s been a long day between manning the shop and running around town.”
    I jump up and follow her down the hall. “Wait.”
    She turns to face me. The hall light is off and we stand in shadows. “Yes?”
    “Please talk to me. Something’s wrong.” My mom and I used to tell each other everything. The distance I feel between us is my fault, I know, because of all the secrets we’re keeping, but I need her to talk to me.
    She looks at her hands and her shoulders rise and fall. She doesn’t meet my eyes when she says, “It’s nothing. Really.”
    “Please, Mom. I know what nothing looks like and it’s not this.”
    “I tried to secure a loan today. I was denied.”
    I don’t need to ask but I do anyway. “A loan for what?”
    She finally looks up. Her eyes are bloodshot. “To pay some bills I’ve gotten behind on.” She takes my hand. “But I don’t want you to worry about it. We’ll be fine. We’re behind is all. We’ve been behind before. Let’s hope for a few good months. We’ll just have to be more careful.”
    “More careful?” How could we be more careful? We already spend next to nothing.
    “Don’t worry, okay? It’s fine.”
    I nod and she gives me a hug. It doesn’t stop me from worrying.
    When she’s in her room I shut my bedroom door with a horrible pressure in my chest. The magazine digs into my thigh so I yank it out of my pocket and smooth it flat. “Are you even worth all this trouble, Xander?” I say to his wrinkled face.
     
    Monday morning I take my time getting ready. I’ve been trying to figure out all weekend what to say to Xander. I’m tired of the feeling that’s settled onto my chest and threatened to stay.
    When I go downstairs my mom is zipping up the green bank-deposit bag and tucking it into her purse.
    “I thought you took the deposit Saturday night.”
    She jumps. “You scared me.” She looks me up and down. “Wow, you look nice today. I haven’t seen you wear that sweater in forever. It makes your eyes stand out. Is this for the special boy at school?”
    If I didn’t love my mom so much I would strangle her. “No, Mom, I told you we’re just friends.” And he doesn’t go to my school. And . . . wait, was she trying to change the subject? It almost worked. “So what’s going on with the deposit?”
    “I didn’t take it Saturday.”
    She didn’t take the deposit? My mom is anal about making the deposit. And didn’t she just say last night that we are behind?
    She must’ve noted my look because she says, “It’s not a big deal. I’ll take it over right when they open.”
    “Okay.” I grab my backpack, smooth down my sweater, and face the door. My heart gives a little unexpected flutter, the first one since fighting with Xander. I smile and step out into the cold.
    Xander’s not there.
    My walk to school feels twice as long as normal. Maybe because I keep