8

                Mom called five times that night, and for once, I read the voicemail transcriptions. Instead of calling her back, I simply gave neutral responses back in text form. Telling her, “We’ll talk at graduation, I promise” and “I’m not ready to talk yet. Give me some more time.” She’d predictably called me in hysteria and begged me to pick up the phone. But after several messages where I just repeated that I loved her, that I wanted to see her at graduation, but that I wouldn’t talk about anything else until then, she finally started to calm down in her text replies. Eventually, she just begged me to promise that I’d talk to her soon, to which I did, even though I’d already done so about a hundred times.

But when we meet, I want to talk about what we fought about that night when I left. I’m not ok with how I was treated and how things went down, and when we talk, I want to make sure you understand how I felt. So make sure to think about that stuff, ok? Think a lot about that night and what went wrong. Otherwise, we’re not going to be able to have a productive conversation I texted her.

What part of that night made you upset?

                I scoffed at her ignorance. For a moment I was going to answer her, but I stopped myself. If I told her, I’d just be giving her the answer. It would be as usual, with the words through one ear and out the other. The only way she’d genuinely put thought into my perspective was if she came to her own conclusions about what happened. If she really wanted to make things work, she’d think about my perspective a bit. I eventually responded with what I thought was the fairest way I could explain it.  You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. Talk to you soon.

                Simply put, if she couldn’t realize why I was giving her the silent treatment on her own, I had a hard time believing she’d ever understand. If I outright told her why I was mad, she’d only find some counterargument, rather than any actual empathizing or understanding.

                She texted me a couple more times, but I left it at that. I’d done enough reasoning with her for the day.

___

                A few weeks later, it was May, finals week, and graduation was only a few days away. Lizzie had gone home for the rest of the year, only coming back for the ceremony. Speaking of which, I gave a text to Eliza congratulating her on her high school graduation. She’d excitedly be attending Suffolk University to get a business degree. I’d still been in contact with my brother and sister since I’d stormed out that Saturday night, so long as they promised not to tell Mom. James liked having a secret, while Eliza just preferred to avoid drama, so our communications were always brief. James kept asking me about my powers, and I continued to insist he be vague over text so as to be extra cautious. He broke that rule too many times, and I kept having to delete those texts hoping it was enough to not be caught.

                I also kept in frequent contact with Moriah, Hazel, and Cole. The latter two I was in a group chat with, not even mentioning our powers or anything. We just sent memes or other random texts to each other. It was incredibly heartwarming to have people that I could trust, that knew my secrets, and still be friends with outside of that space. I’d been having fears of feeling isolated and lonely after acquiring powers, being too scared to talk with my friends and family out of fear of revealing too much. But now, my family knew, Lizzie’s family knew, and a brand-new family that I was starting to really like also knew. There was no need for deception and no need for paranoia. Just getting close to people in a truly genuine way was doing wonders for my mental health.

                Which was also why a lot was riding on this impending conversation with Mom.