Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [6]
“Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
“Yeah, Dad filled me in.” He rolled his eyes.
“You’ve already talked to Dad?”
He scowled. “No, as usual Dad talked to me. Like you could call it that. It was more of a sermon or lecture. We all know that he never listens to anyone.”
“Well, he was worried too.”
Jacob laughed in a cynical way “Yeah, you bet, Mom. Believe whatever you like.”
I sat down in the chair across from him now. “He is worried, Jake. We’re both worried. We know you have a… a problem. We know you need help.”
“I’m” fine. His eyes narrowed now. “I just need people to be a little more understanding is all. I’m going through some stuff. And I’m trying to sort it all out. I needed some time and space to just think about it.”
“But you’ve been gone since Friday.” I shook my head, forcing myself to remember exactly what had happened, even wondering why I’d been so upset and worried. One thing I knew by then was how my son had become an expert at changing the subject or throwing up smoke screens. “I’ve called your friends—”
“Who did you call?” he demanded.
I listed off a few kids who had been good friends before Jacob had started to change.
“They aren’t my friends,” Jacob said quickly.
“Well, those were the only numbers I knew to call.” I sighed. “You won’t even say who your friends are anymore. You hardly talk to us at all.”
“Because you’re always putting me through this kind of crap. It’s either a lecture or the Spanish Inquisition.” Then he cursed.
“Please, don’t use those kinds of words in this house.” I gave him my automatic response to his occasional use of unacceptable language.
“It’s just a stupid word, Mom.”
I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. What had we just been talking about? Oh, yes, my missing son. “But this is the deal, Jacob. You’ve been gone since Friday.” I used my fingers to count. “That’s four days. And since today is Monday and you obviously missed school—”
“I did not miss school,” he roared back.
I blinked. “You went to school today?”
“Yeah. I knew I’d better not get another unexcused absence if I want to graduate this spring.”
Well, that was something, I told myself. At least he still cared about graduating. Although it was hard to understand exactly why he cared since he’d given up sports last year and had begun attending an alternative school during his senior year. That was only after the school counselor convinced all of us that Jacob might “perform better away from the restrictions of the more traditional campus.” Whatever was that supposed to mean? Was it simply their way of getting him out of their hair? Was it a mistake for us to agree to it? After all, everyone in town knew what the alternative school was all about.
I could still remember the day I ran into Margie Smyth at the grocery store. Or rather got cornered by her in the produce section. I’d already noticed her getting some carrots, and I’d tried to appear consumed in my search for the best-looking cucumbers.
“Oh, Glennis,” she’d called out. I greeted her and attempted to make small talk as I selected another lovely cucumber.
“Todd told me that Jacobs not playing basketball this year,” she said in a troubled voice. “I hope nothings wrong.”
I just shrugged as I reached for another cucumber. I already had far more than I needed. “He was tired of sports,” I told her, which was exactly what he had told us. “And then he took up the guitar.” I attempted to make a move back toward my cart. “He actually seems to be quite musical.”
She nodded. “Well, that’s understandable. Basketball is fine while you’re a teenager, but music is something you can take with you throughout your lifetime.” She smiled now. “Then I guess it’s not true that he’s going to that alternative school.” She lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder. “Todd says that’s for losers and users.’” She laughed as if she’d said something funny.
I wish I could say that I looked her straight in the eye and told her that Jacob was indeed going to the alternative school, but instead I told her I was in a hurry and went