Tuesday, 7 February 2017
Tuesday's Tale--What Rock?
After three weeks of ghosting, Brody txt'd me to meet him at Java Jive. Maybe now I could get some answers.
He was late, as usual, not that I was surprised. I'd already grabbed a mocha so I didn't look lame sitting at a table with nothing in my hands. Nothing like a cuppa to excuse away public solitude. Even sat at one of the window tables to keep an eye out for him covered for me as "people-watching".
I nursed that sucker for fifteen minutes until he slid into the seat opposite me. Didn't meet my eyes, didn't even have a frappuccino to keep his nervous hands busy. "We gotta break up," he muttered.
I blinked at him. "What?"
"Sorry," he mumbled, then slid out of his seat. Head down and tail tucked between his legs, he left Java Jive. Through the window, I watched him approach the car that had been out there for ten minutes. How stupid of me not to recognise it until now. I knew what his mother looked like. Why didn't I spot her before.
Duh, my radar had been trained for Brody.
As Brody slid into the passenger seat, I flew after him, knocking on the car window. "Hey," I shouted through the glass. "What's up with this."
The automatic window rolled down, but not by Brody. His mother, who I had only met once and I thought I had liked, leaned over. "Haven't you done enough damage already?"
"I'm sick of all the midnight calls. I've thrown away everything you've left on the porch and we've already reported the rock through the window and the thefts to the police."
Rock? What rock? All I could do was stand there, mouth agape. Thefts?
Brody shaded his eyes. I don't blame him. "Mom, can we just go?"
But his mother wasn't finished. "You're the reason we pulled him out of school and sent him to another." Not that I would have noticed such a thing. We went to different schools. "I've already spoken to his new principal. If you attempt to transfer schools to get near him again, Donna, I'm taking this matter straight to the police."
At her final words, I leaned on the window, then flicked Brody hard on the ear. What I wanted to do was pull him from that vehicle and pound his face into the sidewalk. "Mrs Allen, I'm not Donna. My name is Brenda. And I can assure you that you nor your son will ever see me again."
I turned to him. "You're right, Brody. We're breaking up. You've been cheating on me. Good luck with Donna."
I had a mocha to finish.
Her Grace is just as astonished to have written a contemporary YA tragedy. Such a change from a frothy HEA Romance.