I'm good! I'm good.
So stop asking...
All I want you to do is listen.
We are almost to the end, so before you convict me…
I want you to understand key points in my…
The thing with Terrance went on for months.
Sometimes with him introducing new friends.
Sometimes… at the same time.
But he was my boyfriend. If he was cool with it, so was I.
He'd look down at me, holding my jaw as he smiled.
"Who do you like better? Me or—" He gestured to the guy behind me.
He pulled away. "Guess you can't talk with your mouth full."
I panted, met his eyes. "You. Always you."
He laughed, glancing at the guy behind me.
"See? My Prairie girl will always love me the most."
I felt so happy.
He knew I loved him. And he loved me.
Everything else didn't matter.
It didn't even hurt anymore.
I was good at it. I made sure of it.
I wanted him to be happy.
Til one day, it all changed.
He ignored my texts. Didn't seek me out.
I was so confused.
And then I saw it.
He was with a new girl. His age. Pretty. Tall. She looked biracial too—though a different mix.
He hugged her openly.
Kissed her openly.
Smiled at her like she was the only one—like I didn't exist. Like everything we had… wasn't real.
"Who's that?" I whispered.
Mercedes hummed, glancing up at Terrance and the girl heading inside, then back to her phone.
"You remember Terrance, the guy from the rink? My cousin. That's his girl, Tanya. They've been together awhile, but they're engaged now, so she's been coming over more often."
I felt my heart break right there.
Engaged?
No—that couldn't be true. He was—we were—!?
I just knew it had to be a dream. A fucked-up nightmare.
Because he loved me.
And I loved him.
We loved each other!
I wanted to shake Mercedes, yell at her, call her a liar, tell her the joke wasn't funny—that me and her cousin had been together for months, that we were the ones who would get married, be together forever.
But I couldn't.
All I could do was stare down at my sneakers.
"Oh… that's nice," I mumbled. "Happy for him."
"I'm surprised…" she said, still typing. "Still not getting over the shock that he's getting married—and that he was the one who proposed." She laughed. "That it wasn't forced on him." She snorted.
Was it such a hard thing to believe?
That was supposed to be us.
It was! Until that girl showed up!
I was so mad that she made her seem so special.
I snapped at her. "Damn, is it that hard to believe?"
Mercedes looked at me with wide eyes, shocked at my tone.
"I… I mean… kinda. Rhea, you good?"
Calm down. I kept telling myself that even as my fingers dug into my jeans.
I had to. Or she'd get suspicious.
I already lost my man—no need to lose my friend.
"Y-yeah, yeah… my mom… it's some stuff. Nothing important."
I mumbled, hopping off the box.
I didn't feel up to lying anymore.
I just wanted to go home.
I needed to go home.
I flopped onto my bed, replaying the scene over and over. Mercedes's words.
I sat up and made my way to the computer, finding his social media account.
I had scrolled through the photos, it was true.
He had been dating her for the last three years.
Him and her at the beach.
Him and her at the arcade.
Him and her at college.
Him and her even at the damn skating rink—where we first met at that party.
I didn't even know she was there…
My nails dug into the desk, my breathing growing heavy. The burn of tears forming made my skull throb.
Crying wasn't something I did often. It was foreign. So when I did cry—it hurt.
But in that moment, I didn't run from it. I let the tears pour out earnestly, blurring my vision, splattering across the keyboard as I hiccupped and coughed, rubbing roughly at my eyes until the pain faded, leaving behind numbness.
I stared at his picture and drafted a message.
Then another.
And another.
Begging for an answer. Asking about Tanya. About how he belonged to me.
I waited, staring dead eyed at the screen. I could see my reflection looking back at me.
When the response finally came, all it said was:
Leave me alone..
Yeah. In that moment, it felt like throwing a rock into a glass mirror.
I just felt… broken.
All the things I did for him.
Because of him.
Just for him to toss me aside—like trash.
What? No. I'm not still bothered. I'm over it.
But in that moment, all I wanted was for him to feel what I felt.
I wanted him to hurt the way I did.
So… the next year and a half was dedicated to filling the hole Terrance left behind.
I got into dating sites—lying about my age, meeting older men.
Something I once feared became my source of life.
I ignored my friends. Ignored their calls. Their texts.
I'd all but dropped out of school.
They moved on to the next grade. Started high school.
And on paper, I was still in the eighth grade.
I didn't care about that though.
I told myself I was living wild and Free.
And while I didn't have my friends or my education. I had my roster. There was Jacob.
Marcus.
Thomas.
Gary.
Another Marcus.
Joshua.
A full rotation of men to keep me company when I felt alone.
That's when the police got involved.
Turns out when a minor disappears long enough—stops showing up at school, stops sleeping at home—people start asking questions. Welfare checks. Truancy notices. Words that finally scared Lynn enough to pretend she cared.
Not about me.
But about herself.
Because if I missed another day, if there was no proof I was in school or somewhere safe, she could be arrested. Neglect. Failure to supervise. All that fun stuff.
So she changed tactics.
I was dressed, fixing my reflection in the mirror.
Walking out into the living room when she stopped me.
"Rhea."
I turned to face her slowly, watching her with cold dark eyes.
She was standing in the living room with her hands clasped together, rocking on her heels, her eyes flicking toward the TV and then back to me.
Oddly enough it felt like she was the nervous teen and I was the strict mother.
"Where are you going?" she asked, and before I could answer, she rushed ahead of herself taking a few steps forward.
"Why don't you stay in tonight?"
She pointed at the screen, at the animated green ogre smiling on the screen waiting for her to press play.
" You wanted to see this right? We could watch it.—or something else" she said, her lips pulling into a tight, strained smile.
"We could order pizza. Come on, just—lets have a mother daughter day. I want to make it right."
I could hear how hard that was for her to say. It sounded forced, uncomfortable, like she was pulling a nail out of her foot just to get the words out. She must've decided that trying to be my friend might work better than fighting me—especially after the last time we fought, and I fought back.
I looked at her for a second, then shook my head.
"No," I said quietly. "I have plans."
I turned to leave and she grabbed my arm—hard.
"Rhea, please."
Her hand was shaking. I remember that part clearly. Trembling like the consequences of me leaving would be dire. Her voice was soft and breathless. She was begging—without wanting to admit that's what she was doing.
I stared down at her fingers wrapped around my arm.
"Lynn…" I started.
For a moment, her eyes lit up. She took a sharp inhale.
"Y-yeah? What is it? You want to stay, right? Come on."
I lifted my eyes back to her face.
And I felt nothing.
No anger. No guilt. No sadness. Just a dull, empty numbness that hardened with each betrayal.
"I saw that movie last year," I said. "It has three sequels already."
That was all.
The glow in her eyes dulled immediately.
Does it make me a bad person to say that I kind of enjoyed it?
Look at it from my point of view.
"W-we can find something else—" Her grip tightened.
I pried her hand off my arm and pushed her back just enough to make space between us.
"I said no."
Then I walked out.
Once I was out the front door, my boots crunching against the wet road, I paused, looking back.
Maybe we could start over.
Maybe this could be a new beginning.
Was it too late?
I tried to rationalize it.
Maybe she cared about me—she just didn't know how to say it.
Maybe she was overrun with pain about my dad abandoning her.
Why else would you take risks with a problem child like me?
A kid who keeps leaving.
A kid whose absence could land you in jail.
Why not just get rid of me?
Put me in the system.
Wash your hands of it.
But she didn't.
I turned my eyes back towards the exit to the neighborhood and kept going.
If she was finally figuring out how much she loved me…
I wanted her to hurt.
I wanted her to hurt the way I had hurt all those years.
Then maybe—just maybe—
I'd think about it.
I mean…
maybe a day with her.