At least, I believed I was.
As we headed into those final weeks of classes and I started to really get focused on my own studies, I was happy to soon be rid of my TA experience with Professor Douglas. The man did nothing but load on the work and had frequent check-ins with me about his students. This started right after the incident in question with LJ, of course, but I’d been happy to assure him LJ had been honestly doing well. LJ did his due diligence in class, and as I handed out final term papers back for the students to use to prepare for their final exams, I stopped him at the back of the room. He had his earbuds in, barely paying attention as per usual, but at least his grades fared well.
Light toned eyes drifted from his paper in my hands up to mine. He’d not only passed his final essay with flying colors, but he’d aced it.
I let it fall to his desk.
“Crazy what you can do when you actually attend class,” I said, all I could really give him.
Picking up his paper, he studied it, but I didn’t stick around long enough to see his response. I continued on, passing out the rest of the term papers, and once I cleared my stack, I returned to the front and gathered my things. It took me a second to realize I was being watched, but once I had, that heat blazed.
I found those blue eyes again as I stared ahead, LJ the last person in the room besides me.
He stood at the door, hands on his shoulder bag. I thought he may come forward, but as quick as he stared, he was even quicker leaving. The door slammed shut behind him, and I passed whatever his deal was off.
I had to.
Later that night, I loaded a grocery cart for one, my mom off at another party. She was proving to have a better social life than mine these days. Always out, and she was actually consistently going to therapy now. I came over to find the house clean most weekends and hadn’t found her passed out on her couch in what seemed like months. She must have been feeling better.
I was the only fuck-up these days.
I hadn’t been drinking, but I had been completely up in my feelings lately. I could blame many things, but at the end of the day, I had to take ownership of my own mess. I chose to get involved with D-bags.
My phone buzzed in my grocery cart.
Daddy: Hey, kid. How’ve you been?
The same since the last time I hadn’t answered his texts.
Another buzz.
Daddy: I know you’re not talking to me, but I really hope you liked the gift I sent over. You can do with it what you wish, of course, but I wanted you to have it.
I cringed.
Daddy: Anyway, I love you. And I really hope I do see you at the wedding this summer. Things didn’t go the way I hoped with your mom. But I think things can be better the way they are now. I wasn’t being fair to your mom, and I’m just so sorry I hurt you. Hurt both of you.
I was sorry too, sorry that they’d both gotten involved, and he’d wrecked our family with his decisions. I just couldn’t easily forgive him. Even if my parents hadn’t ever loved each other.
My stomach sour, it took me a second to realize someone was speaking to me. I followed my phone up to blue eyes and paused at seeing them, so familiar, but not the owner.
The young girl tapped her sneaker at me, like maybe eighteen or so. Eyeing behind my cart, she studied the cookies I currently stood in front of, and stumbling, I backed up so she could get them.
“Thanks,” she said, her earbuds in and a bomber jacket on. She looked ready to dance in a music video, barely passing me another glance before leaving.
I bit my lip behind her. “Sorry about that.”
But her music must have been too loud. Cookies in hand, she walked away without another glance, and I was embarrassed having just been caught standing there in the middle of the aisle. I hated when people did that to me, and pushing on, I refused to let my dad be a hindrance in my life anymore. I continued to grocery shop, making it to the produce and getting my items there quickly. The last thing I needed was some apples, and as I reached for them, I bumped a hand.
“Sorry—” Once again, I hit those same ocean-clear eyes, the young girl. I had no idea if I just kept hitting her because I wasn’t paying attention or because she had music in her ears. Either way, she appeared annoyed at me.
She took an earbud out. “You go ahead.”
“No, you’re fine.”
She took me up on the offer, grabbing a couple that totally weren’t ripe, and since I didn’t want to overstep, I let her. I did, on the other hand, come ready with a bag to help her, though. She hadn’t grabbed one.
“Might make it easier?” I asked, and this surprised her, eyes blinking.