“Did you want anything else than to completely shatter my spirit today?” I ask, and he cracks a laugh, the serious tension slipping away.
“Nope. All done. You can go now.”
I smile, reaching for the door handle.
“Nice outfit, by the way.” He stops me. “It’s very… not you.”
He’s right. I never wear crop tops. I swivel around, noticing the way his eyes linger on my body. My pulse throbs in my neck. Why does my skin literally burn when he looks at me?
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…” He hesitates on which word to use, then settles for, “Casual.”
I have no idea how to answer that.
“You usually don’t do casual,” he adds.
I’m surprised he even notices these things.
“Thanks for the fashion advice. I should probably go before the girls send out a search party for me.” I swing the door open, throwing one last glance over my shoulder. “Good night, Willy.”
He releases a grin. “You too, control freak.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m kicking Zoey’s front door shut and wrestling with the pile of snacks in my arms. “I’m here,” I yell, only to be greeted by my best friend’s thumping footsteps.
“About time,” Zoey huffs, turning the corner and swiping the food from my hands.
“Nice to see you, too,” I call out, watching her stomp off to the kitchen. She replies with a small laugh, at the very least acknowledging her rudeness.
Morgan’s next in line, meeting me at the door for a hug. I feel like we haven’t hung out outside of school in forever. Between my new job and homework, I haven’t seen much of… well, anyone, really. I’ve missed our nights of stupidity.
The smell of popcorn sweeps across the apartment, a sign that Zoey’s putting the money I shouldn’t have spent to good use. Morgan and I spread across the couch.
“Tell me everything. How’s the new job going?” She wraps herself into a soft blanket.
“The job isn’t all that great, but my coworkers are awesome, so that helps.”
We make small talk, catching each other up on the latest. Then she stabs me in the gut with one question.
“So… have talked to your dad lately?”
My breath staggers.
No, I haven’t.
That would require him wanting to talk to me.
“No. He hasn’t called since he left.” I squeeze a pillow to my chest as if to protect myself. “Why?”
“It’s just… my mom told me she saw him at the mall yesterday. She thought maybe he was back in town. But she’s probably wrong.”
A pang of sadness runs through me.
“It couldn’t have been him. He… he would’ve called. He promised he would.” My voice quivers with doubt.
“Hey. Don’t worry.” Morgan picks up on my distress. “She must’ve confused him with someone else. Just forget I said anything, okay?”
I nod, struggling to slap my happy face back on. It’s been close to two months since I came home to my dad packing his things. My mom was locked in the bathroom, sobbing her heart out. He said he needed time to figure things out. That he’d come back when he had his shit together and could be a good dad to us. I asked, begged, my mom to tell me what happened. Why he was leaving.