What If

Chapter 43

"Where on Earth have you been?!" my mom screamed at me the moment I walked through the front door. "And what on Earth happened to you?"

My head was still a little sore from my drinking binge and her voice stung like bees underneath my skull. She had just been sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for me to get home, and pounced at me as soon as I took my first step in. She had probably never even gone to sleep that night.

And I also looked a mess. My hair was sticking out everywhere, I probably smelled – from both booze and John's place –, my clothes were tattered and frayed, and my eyes were red from the obvious hangover. I was a walking wreck.

"I'm alright, mom," I tried to explain calmly, even though I knew this wasn't going to go over well. "I had a little too much to drink and I stayed at a friend's place overnight."

"You stayed at a friend's place?!" she yelled unhappily. "Which friend?!"

I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes at the ceiling. "John," I answered, beat.

"John?!" she repeated, visibly more upset. "Why didn't you call me?! I would've come to get you! At least then I would've known that you're safe instead of you sleeping over at John's house!"

"Mom, I was so drunk that I didn't know what was going on anymore. I didn't know what a phone was let alone be able to use it and make a coherent sentence. I couldn't even talk!"

"And what's this with you drinking?! You've never drank alcohol like this before!"

Unfortunately for me, her anger and worry wasn't exactly unfounded. I would be pretty upset too if I found my daughter in the same state I came home in. I hadn't been able to come up with any better excuses or way to lighten the situation on my walk home. My mind was too exhausted to do any deep thinking. I just decided to tell the truth in the end. No other explanation would really be better anyway.

"I just overestimated how much was too much. It's no big deal. It happened once and, now that I know, it won't happen ever again. I promise. I've learned my lesson, mama."

"Isn't John the one who punched you?!" she asked, exasperated.

I was quiet for a few seconds. There was no real good way to answer that question. "Well . . . yes, but it was an accident!" I defended. "He didn't mean to punch me! I swear!"

"And isn't he the one who invited you to this party in the first place?!"

"Well . . . yeah, but what's the problem with that? He's not the one who got me drunk! That was all me!"

She shook her head disappointedly. "I just don't know Colleen," she said. "You're drinking, you're partying, you're going to clubs, hanging out with a bunch of boys - you don't even have one friend who's a girl!"

I didn't think the gender of my friends would've mattered to her as long as they were nice people, but clearly she thought differently. I thought back to Cynthia and convinced myself that she now counted after last night. "Yes, I do," I responded. "You just haven't met her!"

She shook her head again, not believing me, and said "You're not acting like yourself, Colleen! This John is a bad influence! In fact, people all over town say so! Ken from the record store says he's constantly stealing records! Jonathan from the music shop says he shoplifts from his store too! I don't know where you found this boy, but I don't want you seeing him anymore!"

My mouth dropped open and I just looked at her with anger and shock. "John isn't a bad guy!" I nearly yelled. "Well . . . at least he hasn't been to me at all! You don't know him at all! Hell, you've never even spoken to him and you're already making judgements! You're always telling me not to judge; maybe you should take your own advice!"

"Well, it's hard not to judge when my daughter comes home injured, hungover, and wearing the same clothes she had been wearing the night before all because of this boy!"

"I told you!" I yelled, growing increasingly frustrated. "None of that is his fault! I jumped in front of his fist that one time! And, actually, you should be thanking him for taking care of me after the party! Apparently, there was a guy who trying to have sex with me while I was nearly blackout drunk and John stopped him and took me to his place to safely sleep it off!"

"None of this would've happened in the first place if he hadn't invited you to that party with all of those nasty people!" she retorted. "He knew who was going to be there, right? So, he knew that there were going to be sleazeballs who would try that sort of thing!"

"Yeah, because he knows what everyone is going to do every moment of the time!" I said sarcastically. "First of all, he didn't know everyone there. The party was just hosted by a friend of his, who, I assume, has other friends that John doesn't know personally. Secondly, I seriously doubt he can see the future of what's going to happen before it does, unlike you apparently. No one can predict what's going to happen or when. There's always going to be danger no matter where you go! It's not going to stop me from living my life. A car could come bursting through the wall right now and kill us both! That doesn't mean I'm going to close myself in a safe room for the rest of my days and never come into this living room again!"

"That's different, Colleen!" she insisted. "That's something completely random that could happen that has nothing to do with the situation we're currently in! He knows the type of people he hangs out with! He should've seen this coming, as you should've too! Why don't you stick with that nice Paul McCartney? He's a good boy and cares for you deeply. He's certainly better for you than John." She spat out his name like it tasted disgusting just to say it. As if it were awful food someone prepared that she blatantly spit into her napkin.

My eyes widened with her ignorant words. "You think Paul's better than John?" I asked, scoffing at how little she knew about anything. "How do you think I met John? They hang out with the same group of people! They've been best friends for years! If you're so worried about John, then you should be worried about Paul too!"

"Paul seems to be a bit more together than John. He's more stable, it seems like. I'd feel much more comfortable with you being around him than that teddy boy, John. And I don't care what you say, I forbid you to see him! He's not good for you!"

I narrowed my eyes and scoffed again. This wasn't even my mother! At least, not as I knew her. Who the Hell was she to tell me who I could or couldn't hang out with? It was none of her business, as far as I was concerned. Why was I even bothering arguing with her? She's not the person I wanted to be around while I was in the 60's anyway. I barely even knew this lady. I shook my head slowly and looked into her eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" I asked softly.

I left her there, silent and shocked that I would ever use such language towards her. I walked up the stairs and into my room. I wasn't going to listen to a word she said. She didn't know what she was talking about, and I felt emotionally that I didn't have any connection to her what so ever. Who is she, anyway?