It took a box of Kleenex and a sleeve of Oreos for Buffy to calm Willow down enough to understand her. After the long strung out explanation, Buffy tucked Willow into bed and rolled out a few blankets and pillow on the floor.
Unfortunately, sleep was not quite so easy for Buffy. She shifted positions, curling her knees up tightly, for the hundredth time, her eyes wide open.
To stop thinking about her own dire situation that was irreversibly fucked up, Buffy focused on what Willow had told her through sobs only an hour before.
”What happened?”
Willow sniffled, laying flat on her bed, tears spilling out of the corner of her eye. “I told him,” she said softly.
Buffy sank to the floor, her face somber. “What…what did he say?”
Willow let out a long sigh and blinked, sending a tear down her cheek. “At first, he didn’t say anything. He was just…quiet. Not even Oz-quiet. It was a scary silence, like he was judging me.” She stopped with a shaky breath, and then continued on. “He said, ‘You can’t love us both’ and I told him, ‘I know, but I’m not sure how I feel’. So he stood up and left.”
She rolled over, facing Buffy on the floor with an equally upset expression. “What am I going to do?” She half-whispered half-cried. Her eyes were rimmed red.
“I don’t know,” Buffy answered truthfully.
“I can’t tell Tara,” Willow said, her voice soft. “It’s too complicated. I care about them both, how can I choose?”
Buffy didn’t know how to respond. Her fingers pulled on the rug under her feet, wondering where they would go from here.
With a yawn, Buffy pulled away from her thoughts as sleep fogged her mind. It was past one in the morning, and sleep seemed like the only right thing.
***************
Buffy woke up with her eyelashes sticking together with crusted tears that surprised her. She couldn’t remember crying. Rubbing her eyes, Buffy sat up, looking down at her hand. It was streaked with black paint. Oh, she realized dumbly, she still had mascara on.
Looking down at her wrinkled red dress, Buffy exhaled. The air smelled like rain, and as she glanced out the window, she saw the sky had turned a cloudy gray.
Simultaneously, Buffy yawned and reached for her cell phone. Flicking it open, Buffy waited for it to turn on. It vibrated in her palm, signaling new messages. Biting her lip, Buffy listened to the three voice messages, all from her mother.
With a reluctant sigh, Buffy dialed her mother’s number, crossing her fingers for luck.
“Hello?”
“Hi, mom,” Buffy greeted cheerfully.
“Buffy! Where are you?” Joyce demanded sounding extremely worried.
“I’m at Willow’s. I left a message on your phone,” Buffy answered, her feet tucked under her.
“You walked out last night without saying anything to me or to Rupert. Buffy, honestly, what were you thinking?” Joyce barreled on, ignoring Buffy’s words.
“I thought you knew, I’m sorry,” Buffy apologized.
“No. Sorry isn’t good enough, Buffy. I expected more of you, and I am deeply disappointed by your irresponsible behavior. Say goodbye to Willow, and come home.” With that, Joyce hung up.
Buffy slowly closed her phone, inhaling. She tried to keep calm, but it was nearly impossible with everything pounding in her brain.
“Buffy?” Willow asked sleepily, sitting up in her bed.
“Hey, Wills,” the blonde responded. “Do you think you could drive me home? My mom’s kinda pissed.”
Willow blinked slowly. “Mad? Why?”
“I kinda didn’t tell her I was coming over,” Buffy admitted sheepishly, rubbing her head.
Willow slid out of her bed and shrugged on a sweatshirt lying on the chair next to her bed. “Sure.” There was a pause as the redhead added, “So how mad is she?”
Buffy swallowed, shifting her gaze. “Scale of 1 to 10? 11.”
Looking alert for the first time in twelve hours, Willow shoved her feet in her shoes. “Okay, then, let’s go.”
On their way out the door, Willow stopped and poured food into a small bowl, which impelled a slinky white and black cat to slip around the corner.
Buffy then followed Willow out to the garage and slid into the passenger seat of Mrs. Rosenberg’s Honda.
It was a short drive, and both of them were silent, contemplating their own issues they would have to face eventually.
Willow turned into the Summers-Giles driveway and parked. “Buffy, thanks for last night, and I’m really sorry you’re mom’s mad. Would it help if I explained?”
Buffy shook her head no. “It’d probably annoy her more that I coerced my friend into talking for me. No, I’m gonna have to face the music alone.” With a hopeful look, she turned to her friend. “Wanna run away to Mexico?”
A small bubble of laughter spilled out of the redhead’s mouth. “Don’t tempt me. But, Buffy, I know it’ll be okay. And you can call me whenever you want.”
“As long as my mom doesn’t take my phone away,” Buffy pointed out pessimistically. “Anyway, thanks for letting me stay over.”
Willow bit her lip and then leaned over to hug the blonde. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied, propping the door open and stepped out, clutching her small purse tightly. As she walked up the front steps, she noticed her shoes were scuffed and her toenails chipped.
Ever so slowly, Buffy turned the key in the lock and opened the door. She heard Willow back up out of the drive, and turned around to give a brief wave. Then she slid off her shoes, leaving them neatly by the door.
Hoping her mother was still upstairs, Buffy wandered into the kitchen, looking for food. Instead she found Joyce sitting rigidly at the counter, her lips drawn in a thin line.
“Sit down, Buffy.”
Feeling small under her mother’s hard stare, Buffy complied, smoothing her dress and crossing her legs. “Mom I—“
“Stop,” Joyce commanded. “I am extremely disappointed. I know you and your father have had difficulties in the past year, but I had hoped coming here had changed that.”
Unable to stop her outburst of emotion, Buffy countered, “It has, Mom!”
This time Joyce just held up her hand. “Maybe, but you blatantly broke my trust in you. Do you know how scared I was? You didn’t say a word to anyone, and William said he hadn’t seen you since nine. In fact, no one had!” She took a deep breath. “I’m well aware of the lack of parental supervision you had in LA, and I wish to hell I had taken the high road in the situation to prevent that. But you’re part of a family now—this family and that means stepping up to you responsibilities to others, including your whereabouts.”
Buffy could feel her eyes burning, and she blinked hard. “Do I have to go live with Dad again?” Her voice was small and painful.
“Honey, no,” Joyce replied quickly with empathy. “But you are grounded for a week.”
“Um,” Buffy nervously rubbed her lip. “Faith’s coming in on Wednesday, and I promised her we’d go to the Bronze and the beach and stuff.”
Sighing, Joyce allowed, “You’re grounded until Wednesday, and then you’ll finish it up when she leaves. And don’t think I won’t remember.”
“Okay,” Buffy nodded with relief. She watched as her mother stood up and kissed her on the forehead.
“I love you, Buffy,” Joyce told her softly, “Now, why don’t you take a shower and go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up in few hours to do your homework.”
“That’s sounds good,” the blonde responded. “I’ll go do that.” She waited a moment, then two, before adding, “I love you too, Mom.”
Joyce only turned for a brief second, but Buffy caught the flash of a small smile, one that reflected unrestricted love and forgiveness.