Wicked Confessions (Excerpt Only)

chapter three (confessed by Demi)

As though our family wasn't already going through enough, the cancer was back. Didn't we just go through this drama? Obviously, I would fight. I had too much to live for. Someone needed to be the glue of this family. Someone had to keep us afloat. And nobody else could do that like I did. So, yeah, I had all the reasons in the world to fight... and win.

The last time we did this, the cancer was a product of - how did my Little Dragon say it? - "an interference through magical means," but this time, no magic was involved. So, her best friend, Harley, wouldn't be able to magically concoct a miracle and fix it. No, this time I no longer had my daughter's blind optimism, and I really couldn't put anything more onto my husband. So, I was on my own. Fighting the fight of my life. Literally.

Although I detected Harley at the screen door of the kitchen, he politely knocked before entering, as had become his routine every day for the past few months. I couldn't even tell you how many months anymore, as the whole summer had been a blur. "Hey, Mrs. Smith," he greeted me.

"Hey, Harley. How ya doing?" I casually responded. I knew he'd lie and claim to be okay, just like always, when he really wasn't. None of us were, but each of us was far too stubborn to let on to the emptiness that haunted us.

He shrugged. "Oh, you know, Mrs. Smith. I'm here. It's the last day of summer. Sophomore year starts tomorrow."

Ah, tomorrow was bound to be a strange day as the whole school came together for the first time since the tragedy. The student body was missing one member, and there would undoubtedly be memorials, memories, and tears as the students of Red Clover High attempted to resume life without her.

"Well, we'll be here anytime you want to stop by, Harley," I encouraged, knowing full-well that his school-year schedule would likely halt his daily visits.

"Thanks, Mrs. Smith. I'm not giving up."

I appreciated his confidence as I'd never give up on Persephone either. "Well, there's been no change since yesterday," I divulged. "But you can head on upstairs. Just remember, no fire in the house."

He rolled his eyes at my request, but we both knew that he'd stop at nothing to bring her back. A few lit candles? That was a given. "You got it, Mrs. Smith," he lied as he sprinted up to her room.

I removed the white votive candle and purple candleholder from their convenient hiding place in the cupboard over the stove. As I lit the wick, I chanted, "Keep this structure and the people within it undamaged by fire."

When Harley eventually returned to the kitchen, he noticed the burning candle. "Mrs. Smith! Really? Circle of protection so I didn't burn the place down?"

"Harley, this is my home. Can you blame me? You and I both know you were doing the pyro thing up there."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Okay, you got me."

I didn't need to ask him if he had made any breakthroughs. If he had, he'd have said so already. So, that meant it was time to send him on his way. "Well, have a good day at school tomorrow."

His hug nearly knocked the wind out of me. "I'll try," he reassured me. "But hey, I have cross-country practice after school, so I don't know if I'll be able to come by, but..."

"Harley, it's okay. You gotta live your life, too."

"Easier said than done, Mrs. Smith."

"Well, if we can all just get through tomorrow, the next day will be easier," I encouraged. Undoubtedly, the first day back at school would be a struggle, but the second day wouldn't be nearly as rough. And so on. In time, there'd be a day where it wasn't the first thing on the kids' minds. But that day hadn't come yet.

"Let's hope so. Cuz tomorrow's gonna suck."

"Get a good night's sleep. It'll be a long day, but Persephone needs you to ensure it's as normal as possible. And I know you will."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, gee, since you put it like that..." He chuckled. "No pressure or anything."

"None intended, Harley. Just another day of school." As convincing as I was trying to be, I figured he'd see through my mustered courage, but I prattled on anyway. "So, when's your first meet?"

"A week from Saturday."

"Nice! And then in a couple of weeks, you'll finally get your license. Remind me to stay off the sidewalks," I teased him.

"Mrs. Smith! Harsh! I'm a good driver!" he contended. Eh, he probably was, but that didn't protect him from gentle ribbing.

"Yeah, yeah, likely story," I dismissed, ruffling his hair. "So, what are you going to do with your last day of summer?"

"I dunno. Hang out downtown for a while. Maybe catch up with Totter when school lets out." He shrugged, clearly leaving out the details as a respectful courtesy to me. But to my surprise, he added, "I might come back later. I mean, she didn't say anything just now, but with school starting, if I brought Totter with me, maybe he could get her talking? It's worth a try, yanno?"

Despite Harley's bad boy tendencies, his love for my daughter was pure and palpable, and simply put, he was lost without her. He had faithfully visited every day of the summer, even though each day was virtually a carbon copy of all the others. We'd chat downstairs. He'd head up to Persephone's room. He'd attempt his latest new idea to will her back to her healthy and spirited, old self. And then, after a couple hours, he'd come back downstairs, report that she hadn't said anything, and bid me adieu until the next day. Occasionally, he'd return later in the afternoon with flowers or another idea. How I wished she would just reward him for all of his persistence! Just a few words to validate his efforts and time! But she was so stubborn. Hey, she was my daughter, so stubbornness came as no surprise.

It wasn't like she couldn't talk. She was quite capable, and every now and then she spoke to me and her father, Wally. So, sooner or later, she'd break her silence towards Harley. I knew in my heart of hearts that his infinite devotion to her would not be in vain.

So, once Harley took off, I got two bowls of ice cream and headed up to her room. "Okay, my Little Dragon. Boy report," I demanded, setting the ice cream on the nightstand beside her bed and sitting in the oversized armchair that had relocated to her room. I knew the ice cream would end up a melted puddle in the bowl, but it was the traditional accompaniment to boy reports. And traditions were meant to be upheld, even when life's circumstances changed.

When my two bites of ice cream had vanished, I pressed on. "So, tomorrow's the first day of school. Sophomore year. Can you believe it?" One-sided conversations where I grasped at straws weren't easy, but I had become quite proficient in them over the course of the summer. If I said the right thing or asked the right question, maybe I'd get a reaction, or even a few words, out of her.

And to think that I thought that cancer was going to be the fight of my life. Apparently, I would be waging battles on two fronts. Geez. But luckily for me, I possessed a huge advantage. I knew one person in this world who was even more stubborn than Persephone.

Her mother.