Bring Me Back

I hop up on my bathroom counter and let my feet dangle. “Today’s a bad day,” I say simply.

“Ah, I see.”

“I was wondering if maybe we could meet for coffee or breakfast or something,” I ramble.

He hisses between his teeth. “I can’t, sorry. I have Cole today.”

I wince. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

“You could come by my house, if you don’t mind?” he asks. “I’d

suggest meeting at a park so Cole can burn off some energy but it’s too cold.”

“Um …” I pause, nervously wringing the fabric of my pajama shirt in my hands. It feels awkward and like I’m crossing boundaries to go to his house, but then again, that’s silly. We’re two adults having a conversation, that’s it. “I can do that,” I finally say after a lengthy pause. “Can you text me your address?”

“Yeah,” he says. “And, Blaire?”

“Yes?”

“Bring coffee.”

I smile. “I can do that.”

“Good. See you soon.”

I hang up with Ryder and I already feel lighter. I change into a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. I don’t feel like dressing nice, and I think Ryder will understand.

I slip my feet into a pair of flats and grab my purse, stuffing my phone inside.

Downstairs, my mom’s already awake, sitting on the couch reading a book.

She closes it immediately when she sees me and launches into a million questions, not even giving me a chance to answer. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep well? Are you hungry? Do you want juice? Tea? Is there anything I can do? Blaire?”

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “I’m … meeting a friend for breakfast.”

Her brows furrow. “I thought you were seeing the girls for lunch.”

I sigh. “I’m meeting someone from Group, okay, Mom?”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and her mouth parts slightly. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” I hedge toward the door. “So, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” she says. “Is there anything you want in particular for dinner?”

My mom, always concerned about what I’m going to eat. I think, for her, she feels like it’s one of the only things she can control in the chaos that is my life now.

“No,” I say, picking up my keys from the side table. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

I can feel her frustration from across the room, but she only says, “Okay,” and goes back to reading her book.

I dash out the door before she can decide to ask me anything else.

Ryder has already texted me his address, so I put it into my navigation system and listen to the monotone British lady try to guide me to his house—she keeps telling me to turn around since I’m going to the coffee shop first. I’ve always wondered why the voices on navigation systems are British when we live in America. Is it some kind of conspiracy or something? Is it someone’s way of trying to tell us the British are coming? I frown when a memory prickles at my mind.

“Ben, I’m telling you, someone’s trying to warn us. A modern day Paul Revere. But instead of just saying, ‘The British are coming,’ they’ve used a British person for our navigation systems. Someone’s trying to communicate something to us. I know it.” He laughed at me. “Don’t laugh.” I glared at him.

He only laughed harder. “What?” he asked innocently. “Telling me not to laugh is only going to make me laugh harder. I think it’s pretty adorable that you’ve given this so much thought."