When we returned to Evan's car after dinner, I offered, "Do you want to go back to my house to watch a movie? I'm pretty sure my mother and Jonathan will be out."
"That sounds perfect," Evan replied.
We stopped at a movie rental machine on our way, and arrived to a dark house as I'd anticipated. Not bothering to change, I just took off my shoes and settled in under Evan's arm. We kept the lights off. The action movie cast a flickering light in the dark room.
Halfway through, we heard a car door shut in the driveway. I glanced at Evan in surprise. "They're back early."
That's when we heard the yelling. I tensed at the sound of my mother's elevated voice, not wanting Evan to see her like this. I could hear Jonathan calling after her.
She rushed through the door. "Then explain it. Go ahead, I want to hear it." She held something in her hand. Evan pulled me closer as my entire body went rigid. "How the fuck did her sweater get in your truck?"
Jonathan stepped in and looked from my mother to us sitting on the couch. That's when it hit me. She was holding the sweater I was certain I'd left at Drew's. "I thought it was yours," he offered lowly, shifting his eyes between me and my mother.
My mother turned toward us, realizing we were watching the entire scene. Her jaw was tight and her eyes enlarged, symptomatic of a full-out fit. I had a split second to evaluate her. If she was drunk, everything was about to explode.
She shook the green sweater at me. "I thought you said you left it at your fucking ex-boyfriend's." It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
I couldn't move. I had no idea what to say. I could feel Evan looking at me, waiting for me to answer. Jonathan kept his eyes on me as well, attempting to silently apologize. I was still trying to make sense of what was happening, and how he could possibly have my sweater.
"I know there's something going on," my mother glared at us accusingly. "I'm not stupid." When we could only stare at her speechlessly, she screamed, "You can all go to hell!" stomping up the stairs and slamming her door so hard I wouldn't doubt it cracked.
"I'm really sorry," Jonathan offered. "We had... we had a bad night, so she's not thinking clearly."
My chest caved. He told her. He had to have told her he was leaving, and that was why she was so upset. It didn't explain the sweater, but it explained enough. Jonathan disappeared into the kitchen.
"Do you want to go?" Evan asked in my ear. I nodded. We stood and I slipped on my shoes while Evan retrieved our jackets. He held my hand as we walked out the front door.
My chest hurt, and I was having a hard time forming thoughts. As we neared his car, I started to worry. I couldn't tell exactly how drunk my mother was in her tirade, but I knew she was hurt. And when she was hurt...
I stopped. "I can't go."
"What do you mean?" Evan was completely confounded.
"I have to stay," I told him with a grimace. "She's upset, and I need to be here for her."
"She needs to calm down," Evan explained, not following my logic.
"Yeah, you're right. But I need to be here for her when she does."
Evan studied me for a moment. "I don't really know what just went on in there, but it wasn't good. Are you sure you don't just want to give them time to sort it out?"
"She needs me," was all I could think, and I couldn't leave knowing she might get worse in my absence.
"I'll stay with you," he said, squeezing my hand.
"No," I countered, causing him to cock his head. "It's complicated. Besides, you don't need to see this. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Evan didn't say anything. It was obvious he was completely disturbed by the entire scenario, and I knew he didn't want to leave me.
"It'll be fine, I promise," I offered with a faint smile, then attempted to downplay it. "It's a girl thing. She's having boy trouble, so... that's it. She's going to need a girl to talk to, okay?"
Evan took a breath and nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Call me if you need me for anything, okay? Even if it's in the middle of the night and you just need to talk."
I leaned up and kissed him. "I will." I was about to walk away when he pulled me back toward him and kissed me again, gripping me tightly like he was afraid to let me go. "I'll call you, okay?" I whispered, out of breath. He nodded and I walked back toward the house.
I pressed my back against the door when I shut it behind me, staring up at her room in deliberation.