Becoming Ella: An Opposites Attract Romance Page 20

  "I love you no matter what, but I worry about you sometimes. We are so young, Ella. You act like you have to have this super stable life and have all your shit together, but you really don't. Now is the time to have fun, act a little irresponsible, try things. This is the time in our lives when we're supposed to be figuring stuff out. I think that you have such a strong vision of who you think you should be, but not really who you want to be.

  "I think that when Will came in, it scared you because he's the complete opposite. But hearing you talk about Will these last few weeks and seeing that smile you get whenever you talk about him makes me feel like Will is perfect for you. He really cares about your happiness and getting you out of your shell. I think that a part of you started to let him, and then you got scared and pushed him away.

  "I'm on your side no matter what, but I was really excited seeing how you were changing with Will in your life. I think that he's a really good influence. I want you to have fun, Elly, get out of your shell. You always say that you wish you could be more like me when you hear my stories. I want you to realize that you don't have to be more like me. You can be more like you. I think that you've buried parts of yourself under your mountains of "shoulds" and to-do lists. I think that with Will, those parts of you are starting to break out again. And you know, Elly, maybe you should let them."

  I hug Violet one more time, squeezing her.

  "You call me if you need me tonight, okay?" Violet says, hugging me back.

  I nod, and she heads down my driveway. I don't want to step away from the door because that would mean having to face my mom, and I'm sure she'll say something now that Violet has left.

  "Eileen, you're letting out all the AC," my mom complains.

  "Sorry," I mutter, stepping back and closing the door.

  I try to make it down my hallway without her saying anything else, but she starts again.

  "Eileen, get back here right now," she snaps.

  I keep walking, shutting her out just like I did last night. After Violet has cheered me up, I don't want that mood to be ruined.

  I don't want to hear about all the things I should be doing better and how she doesn't recognize me anymore. I don't want to see the disappointed look in her eyes and hear it in her voice. I just want to lay in bed, text my best friend, and fall asleep watching a movie that I've seen hundreds of times.

  I close my door after me, but my mom opens it back up, stepping into my room.

  "Mom, I'm tired," I say, trying to convey how exhausted I am in my voice.

  I don't want to do this right now with her. I just want to relax.

  "We need to talk, Eileen," she says, plopping down on the edge of my bed.

  "What is there to talk about?" I ask, still standing in my doorway.

  "How you've been acting lately," she says.

  "You make me sound like a child, Mom," I say, running my hands through my hair. "I still have my job. I'm still in school. I'm getting good grades. I'm doing everything I need to be doing, and that's still not enough for you."

  My tone is harsh, and my mom flinches back from my voice. I feel bad for a moment, but then again, I don't. She has made me feel like I'm not enough my entire life. I'm fed up.

  "I think that ever since you started seeing Will, your priorities have been messed up. I don't like seeing you throw away your future because of a boy."

  I feel anger coursing through my body. I take a deep breath, not wanting my mom to see how much she is getting to me, but it's hard. I realize that this anger has been there all along. But for some reason, now, I feel like standing up to her.

  I know I'm not all wrong like she's trying to make me out to be. I have a job. I am a good worker, and I am doing well in school. Outside of that, what does it matter what and who I fill my time with? Why is it such a big deal if I want to have a life? And not just one that's a rigid schedule only filled up with things I "should" be doing.

  "You must really think little of me if you think that I'm going to ruin my future over a boy. I don't even know where you get off thinking that. Like I said, I still have my job, I am doing great in school. What more do you want from me? Why is it such a problem if I have a life outside of that?"

  She flinches back again, and this time, I don't feel any guilt. I look her dead in the eyes. For the first time, she is the one to look away first.

  "I just worry about you, Eileen," she says, her voice softer. "How you've been these last couple of weeks isn't like you."

  I scoff. "Mom, I haven't ever been as happy as I have the last couple of weeks. Just going to work, spending all of my nights working ahead in school, only hanging out with Violet when she comes back to town. All of those things are nice, and I'm grateful for how comfortable my life is, but that's not the type of life I want anymore. I want a life that excites me. I want to do things outside of my comfort zone. I don't think that's a crime."

  "I thought the exact same way when your father came into my life. I was tired of always being so "right." I wanted to rebel a little bit, and he was the perfect person to do that with. I've told you that story so often, yet it seems that you don't believe me. It took me so long to get my life together after he left, and I struggled so much. I don't want the same thing happening to you."

  "Why do you assume that the world is out to get me? Out to get you? I'm sorry that I ruined your life. I know that you've always said it was my dad who ruined your life, but what I really think you mean is that I ruined your life. Messing around with my dad would have been one thing, but you're left with me as a constant reminder. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry!"

  I don't realize how loud I had gotten until I stop talking. The silence spans between us. I never realized how true those words felt until they exploded out. And now that they are out there, I feel empty — like the one thing that was weighing on my chest my entire life has finally been set free.

  My mother reaches up and wipes a tear from her face. She doesn't look me in the eyes. The guilt comes back. She has never cried in front of me.

  "Eileen, that is not what I mean at all," she chokes out. "I worry about you. I want the best for you. I want to see you do well and succeed and not do something that will make your life harder down the road. You are the best thing that's ever happened in my life, but you are so young. I was so young. I want to make sure that you have all the options you could ever have. Boys can be convincing, and sometimes it's easy to forget to be…safe. I don't want you to put a major speed bump in your life by falling in love with someone who isn't the best for you."

  Though she is trying to frame it just as pregnancy, I can hear the love in her voice, the vulnerability.

  "Mom, Will is great. I am sorry that you had such a bad experience with my father, but you can't let that hold you back for the rest of your life, and you can't let that fear hold me back either. Will is…," I trail off, and she looks up at me, her eyes watery. "Will inspires me to live more. Do more. See more and feel more. He's shown me more things are possible than I ever could have realized. He doesn't pressure me. He doesn't judge me. He doesn't judge anyone. He is such a good person."

  I realize how true the words are, and I can feel myself start to cry more. My vision blurs, and I think back to Will's face the last time I saw him. I realize how much I miss talking with him, laughing with him, adventuring with him.

  My mom gets off the bed and crosses the space between us. She wraps her arms around me, and I lean into her, giving her a proper hug for the first time in years. She wraps her arms tightly around me, and I squeeze back, crying against her shoulder.

  The last time that we hugged like this, I must have been eight or nine. Our relationship wasn't always like this. She used to be softer, more open. Maybe she's wanted to be all along, but she's also been scared. It's then that I realize my mother and I are not that different after all.

  We continue to hug until we both stop crying. My mother squeezes me once more before stepping back and brushing stray curls
away from my face.

  "I'm sorry that I haven't been the best to you since you've gotten older," she says, looking me squarely in the eyes.

  I nod. Her apology doesn't fix all of the years of pent up emotions I've had, but it is the first step at undoing them. Maybe even fixing our relationship.

  "I'm sorry for always thinking of you as the bad guy," I say. "I always thought that you hated me because of my father and what he did to you."

  Her eyes water up again. "Oh, Eileen, it was never hatred for you. It was for your father. He just vanished from our life. It broke my heart seeing how much he hurt you, and I hated him for doing that to you. I wouldn't have minded if he broke my heart over and over if it meant that he had never broken yours."

  The memories I've tried so hard not to think of start coming back. Memories of sitting on the porch with my father, eating ice cream, talking about everything under the sun. And then one day, that was just it.

  My mom hugs me again, and I lean into her, breathing in her perfume. She's tried to set me on the best path she knew all my life. Taught me lessons she learned painfully herself. She did the best she could. Even if at times it hurt, she was trying her best. And I realize all of that now.

  Mom breaks away, wiping her eyes again. "Tell me about Will now," she says, trying to lighten the mood.

  She plops down again on the edge of my bed.

  "He's really great," I say, tucking myself against my pillows. "I know that you don't think he's that great because he lives in a van, but honestly, his lifestyle is really cool. He's a really cool and interesting person."

  "How is he able to support himself living in a van?"

  She doesn't ask the question judgmentally, just genuinely curious. It's the first time she's mentioned him and Matilda without any judgment, so it makes me happy.

  "He has his own blog and does other things online. I don't know how much he makes, but he makes enough to support his van and put a lot into savings."

  She nods. "How does he even live in there, though? That thing seems pretty tiny."

  "It's actually quite spacious," I say. "I wouldn't have thought it either until I went in, but there's plenty of room to stretch out, even for someone his size."

  "How long is he planning to stay on the road for?"

  "I'm not sure. Will doesn't seem like he wants to move back to more conventional living anytime soon. He really likes living in his van. He loves going wherever, whenever. He's been all over the country."

  "Every state?"

  "Mhm," I nod. "He has the coolest pictures and some of the coolest stories. Honestly, talking to him makes me feel kind of lame because I have no experiences like his."

  "Maybe you'll have to travel more with him and get some more?" my mom suggests.

  I try not to react to her statement, but deep down, it makes my belly warm. Not just at the thought of giving in to my wants and traveling with Will but hearing my mom approve of it. Having her on my side means more to me than I would have thought.

  But remembering how things are brings me back to earth. That's not an option anymore.

  "I don't even think that's an option anymore," I say.

  "Why?" she asks.

  She doesn't do it in a prying manner. Instead, she asks gently. She's trying.

  "We had a fight after we went to the fair. I said some really hurtful things. And Will hasn't been back. He hasn't texted me or anything, so I feel like I ruined everything."

  Mom nods understandingly. "Well, have you tried reaching out to him?"

  I shake my head. "I don't even know what to say. I don't know how to come back from that."

  "Well, why don't you try? You know him pretty well. I'm sure there's something you could think of to win him back."

  "But what if it doesn't change anything? What if he just rejects me? Then I'll feel even worse."

  "True, that could happen. But what if you never try at all?"

  I nod, digesting her words. They don't make any sense coming from her. It's the complete opposite of how she's raised me to be and how she's been my entire life.

  "I know that I haven't been a good example of that, but seeing you these last couple of weeks, I've realized a lot about myself too. I've been so afraid of change my entire life. So scared of, well, living. And that's kept me back from a lot of things. I don't want to be like that anymore, and I don't want you to be so scared like me. I want both of us to break out of our shells, do more, be more."

  I smile at her, and she returns mine with a soft, sad smile of her own. She pats my knee and then stands up.

  "I love you, Eileen," she says, seeing herself out.

  "I love you too, Mom," I murmur, thinking her words over in my head.

  Break out of our shells. Do more. Be more.

  Later that night, my phone lights up with an email from Amazon. I briefly read the subject, and it mentions my author account.

  Curious, I swipe the email. I haven’t been thinking much about self-publishing or writing since everything happened. Though it felt amazing to publish, I didn’t expect much to come from it, and so it retreated to the back of my mind.

  The email talks about an online seminar they’re hosting to learn more about using data to sell more books, get better rankings, etc. I’m not interested in that, but since it popped up, I am curious to see how my book is doing.

  Maddie told me that I shouldn’t check my account more than a couple times a week because it could be disappointing at first. I don’t expect much to have happened in the last two days, but my eyes widen in shock when I log into my account.

  I check my book’s page and see that there are ten five-star reviews. I read through all of them. Half of them are from people who say they follow me on BookCookie and that they love all my work and that they’re excited to see what I write in the future and proud of me for taking the leap. My heart thoroughly warms reading those comments and then reading the other half of the organic ones. Most are only a couple of lines, but one review really stands out:

  This is a fantastic book! I hardly ever take a chance on new authors, but I’m glad I did. This writer tells a phenomenal story! I will return to this author’s future works because I am sure that they will be just as compelling and rich as this one. FIVE STARS!

  I check my payout page, curious to see how the page reads and views translate.

  I’ve made five sales.

  It’s not anything to write home about, but it means something to me. My cheeks hurt with how much I’m smiling.

  I log onto BookCookie to see if there’s anything new on there, and I can’t help but let out a surprised laugh when I see the number of notifications I have. My dashboard shows that I have one hundred new comments, thirty new messages, and fifty new followers.

  Warmth spreads through my entire body as I read through all of them, typing “thank you so much” to everyone who commented on my stuff. Going through the messages makes me even happier. People who have been long time readers congratulate me for making the jump to selling my work and that they’re excited to support me on my new journey.

  I bask in the feeling.

  Throughout writing, there have been many times where I feel like I’m a crap writer, that no one would ever want to read anything I have to say, and time and time again, I’ve proved myself wrong.

  I am proud that I put myself out there, and I am excited to learn more and keep growing, doing something that I love.

  I remember all the time I would spend as a little girl, telling people that I wanted to be an author when I grew up and having them laugh in my face and tell me that it would never happen, and here I am.

  Sure, it’s not the same as getting a publishing deal from a massive house, but this still makes me feel amazing. People are actually paying to read my writing.

  I do a happy dance in my bed, feeling completely overjoyed. I wish that I could share this with Will. I wish that I could thank him for continuing to push me. I wish that I could be cuddled up in bed with him, read
ing through the rest of my comments. I know that he would have been so happy for me.

  Without him pushing me, I wouldn’t be here, nor would my story be for sale with people actually paying to read it.

  All of those realizations make me stop. I need to come up with a plan.

  I want Will Keely back, and I am going to do everything in my power to get him back.

  23

  I wake up the next day with a purpose.

  Today is the day that I am going to pour my heart out to Will Keely.

  After brainstorming the whole night, I have come up with what I think is a perfect plan.

  I spent half of the night researching where one can find lucky trolls in Wisconsin. Unsurprisingly, there aren't too many places where you can find authentic ones. The ones at the mall look too plasticky and like something you could get in a drive-through meal box. All of Will's look authentic, vintage. I will need at least five of those to pull off what I am hoping to do.

  Before I fell asleep, I asked Violet if she wanted to come with me. I was surprised when she responded right away because it was past one in the morning, but she did, with a "hell yes!".

  It's now seven-thirty in the morning. Violet should be here any minute.

  I am just putting the finishing touches on my makeup. My hair is down, styled with all of the expensive products that I only use on special occasions. I am wearing another sundress, but instead of sunflowers, the dress is black and has white daisies.

  The shop that we are going to is about an hour away, and they open at nine. With Violet's driving and her need to stop through drive-thrus and bathrooms more than the average person, we should be there closer to nine-thirty. And that's if she already has a full tank of gas, which knowing her, she will probably show up close to E.