The Art of Pretending

03 | the past

"Ashley, that is not a good idea," Hazel groans as she shakes her head at me.

Thankfully, it's not her condoning what I'm doing with Ethan. Instead, she's berating me for planning to ask my mother, again, about my past.

"I just want to know what happened," I exclaim. "I've been left in the dark and my mother won't tell me anything."

Hazel bites her lip and looks at me. "Maybe sometimes things are better left in the dark."

I know Hazel's right, as always, especially since I've asked my mother so many times. But I just desperately want to know. It's not that I forgot everything about my past, but I do know that there are weird gaps.

My mother claims that the gaps don't exist and that I am just forgetful. While I may be forgetful, who forgets their middle school graduation?

The thing is, my mother is also right. I know I have terrible memory, and it might have been pretty easy for me to forget my graduation. It wasn't the biggest deal, as she tells me. But I know I'm missing something, except I don't know what it is so I can't ask her directly.

"Ashley." Hazel says and snaps her fingers in front of me. "Did you forget I was here?" she asks and laughs, her eyes crinkling at the sides.

I laugh with her. "You know I have pretty bad memory. I'm just thinking of what I should do."

Hazel nods. "I think your mother is getting tired of your questions."

I know that she is, but I just want to know. If I ask my mother a vague question, like "tell me about my past", she won't comply, or she'll tell me something I already know. I can only ask her about something direct, such as my graduation. She'll have no choice but to tell me the truth then.

Sighing, I glance down at my untouched lunch. I've been worrying all morning about how I should ask my mother and how to word it, but now that I talked to Hazel, I don't know if I want to ask anymore.

"I should probably lay off," I reply to Hazel. "But I don't like how I'm sure I'm missing something."

Hazel nods sympathetically and pats my hand. "It's okay, Ashley. Maybe it's something that she'll tell you later, when you're older. Remember when she told you about your older sister?" Her eyes are mournful, and my throat immediately closes up at her words.

My hands are clammy as I remember the night I asked my mother. She told me I wasn't ready over and over again, but I just wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Your older sister is dead, Ashley. That's why she's gone. You don't remember her death." she had looked at me wearily, a sad tone in her voice. She doesn't spare me any details, and I know that I don't want to know any.

I remember the shock that washed over me, because every reason I had thought of to justify her disappearance was never this.

After that, I remember breaking down and just flashing through every memory of her. Clearly, my mother had decided to not tell me more because of my reaction that day.

"Of course it's about my reaction," I say and look around the room for a trash can. "I didn't handle it well at all."

"Of course not," Hazel said softly. "Your reaction was completely normal, Ashley. You just lost your sister, who you were so close to. And you had no idea that happened to her, lived years without that knowledge, and when was told in a careless manner?" she frowns to herself. "I'd react the same way."

I smile. "True, but I hate how my mother won't tell me anything now," I emphasize. I quickly gather all my stuff together, preparing for the end of lunch. "She treats me like fragile glass, withholding all of this information."

"You're her only daughter left," Hazel says, "I think it's understandable that she doesn't want to lose you too." Her hand touches mine comfortingly. "just try to make it easy on her, yeah?"

"I'll try my best," I affirm, nodding. "She says she'll tell me most of it when I'm eighteen, and honestly, it's not too far off." I look away thoughtfully, glancing at the wall. "Maybe sometimes it is good to not know some things."

The bell rings and we quickly walk across the courtyard to dump our lunch in the trash. I'm feeling better about my final decision. While it wasn't what I wanted in the morning, at least I've settled into it now.

As we say our goodbyes and split off into our respective paths, I reach for my phone and hope there's a text from Ethan. Of course there isn't, and I sigh.

He said he'll text me tomorrow, which is his next morning. That's a span of maybe eight hours of sleep that I'll have to wait for. These eight hours are during my day, which means a good portion of it will be spent without him but waiting for him.

Eight hours. Eight hours.

I'm worried that I've become obsessed with him already, but this whole situation is making me so curious. I'm scared and apprehensive, but at the same time, I really want to see how this turns out.

Maybe it's time to stop dwelling in the past and move onto the future.

a/n: i know this seems like a filler chapter, and it kind of is. but it's just laying down some fundamentals before we get into the exciting parts :)