I hesitated, not sure what to say. "Whatever will make you happiest," I finally offered.
"That sounds easier than it is," she sighed. "It's going to hurt either way. I hope he comes tonight. I apologized to him like a million times today. He said he'd try, but he has a project due at work, so he wasn't sure if he could make it.
"And I'm sorry about accusing you of... you know."
I took a sip of my water, hoping we were going to avoid that part of last night.
"It's just that I know you two get along. I hear you talking and laughing in the middle of the night. Sometimes I think he waits to hear you get up before he goes downstairs―like he doesn't even try to sleep. I know that sounds paranoid and crazy. I mean, you're my daughter, and..."
"He wouldn't do that," I consoled, freaked by her jealous thoughts. "Besides, we really don't talk about anything interesting, I swear. Maybe you should ask him... you know, about his nightmare."
"I've tried." She paused to let the server set our burgers in front of us. "Does he tell you what it's about?"
I shook my head.
"He's been distant lately. I think I screwed up and he's not going to want to be with me, not even for the short time before he leaves. I mean, we haven't had sex in over a week."
I about choked up the bite of cheeseburger I'd just swallowed.
"Sorry," she grimaced. "That was probably too much information."
"A little," I admitted with a cough.
When we arrived at the school Jonathan wasn't there, as my mother had anticipated. I couldn't bring myself to ask her to sit away from the students' section after watching her face drop when she received Jonathan's text.
"He's running late," she muttered, dropping her phone into her purse. "I know he's not coming."
"Maybe he didn't get what he needed done for work yet," I offered, trying to cheer her up. My words bounced right off as if they were never said.
We bought sodas at the concession stand and made our way to the bleachers.
"Hey, Rachel!" a few voices hollered.
"Hi, Mark! Hi, James!" she yelled back with a bright smile, her sullen mood masked instantly.
"You know people?" I questioned in disbelief.
"Where do you think I sit during your games?"
"Oh," I mouthed, never considering it before. I was shocked when more faces recognized her. She knew more people in my school than I did.
"Hi, Rachel," Casey burst out, cutting across the bleachers to get to us, with Jill right behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"Watching Evan," my mother explained. Casey nodded like it made sense.
"Hey, Emma," Jill greeted, sitting next to Casey, who opted to sit next to my mother. I was starting to feel like a stranger even amongst my friends―who evidently preferred my mother over me.
"Where's Jonathan?" Jill asked, making my eyes widen.
My mother shrugged evasively, not looking away from the court as they were about to tip the ball. The cheering erupted around us as the ball flew into the air.
She chanted along with the rest of the school, like she was just another student. I was a spectator, not only to the game, but to my mother's popularity―it was beyond strange.
As the half progressed, she became more boisterous and made remarks that sent those around her into fits of laughter. I grew suspicious as she became more verbal. Something was off. Her popularity grew the more vocal she became. The boys scooted in around her. I would have been nudged out my position next to her if I wasn't her daughter.
During halftime, my mother disappeared into the bathroom with Casey and Jill. I followed a few minutes later to find her dumping the contents of her flask into their fountain sodas. Her flagrant personality suddenly made sense―I should've known better.
"Casey, you were supposed to lock the door," Jill scolded with a huff.
"Sorry," Casey responded guiltily. "But it's just Emma."
My mother watched for my reaction. "You're not mad, right?"
I looked from one face to the other as they waited for me to say something. I shook my head and stepped into the first stall without a word. I leaned against the wall and listened as they giggled and Casey gushed about some cute boy sitting behind them.
"Do you want us to wait for you?" my mother called out.
"No, it's okay," I responded, trying to keep my voice steady. My insides were a slithering mess. I couldn't believe I'd caught my mother feeding my friends alcohol so they could get drunk together. I took a breath and tried to clear my head, to think of how to keep this from escalating out of control.