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Part of me understood what he’d been doing—trying to get under my skin, rile me up, keep my fire burning through a blaze of anger.
But part of me wondered if he truly felt that way.
And that was heartbreaking.
As wispy sheets of white clouds coasted across the sky, I squinted my eyes against the sunlight leaking through, catching sight of a familiar swinging ponytail and blue scrunchie. Tara was meeting me outside of a downtown Italian café to savor the warm spring weather and to chat about our weekend plans.
After parking her car along the side street and hopping out, she greeted me with an animated wave. “Hals!”
I grinned, seated at a metal outdoor table with my camera nearby. “You’re early.”
“I know, right? Who am I?”
“How was volleyball practice?” I watched as she plopped down in the chair across from me.
“Fine. I’m nervous for the game tomorrow night. I’m also nervous about cosmetology school. Ack, being on the edge of eighteen is stressful.”
I sent her a smile. “You’re going to do amazing. Nobody does my nails and makeup like you do.”
It was true. When Tara had told me she wanted to go to cosmetology school, I thought it was a brilliant idea. We both had a creative side. Art was meaning, and it could be channeled through endless avenues. Music, dancing, photography, writing. Tara and I were different in so many ways, but our hearts bled color and expression.
My friend grinned, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “Anyway, I was hoping you could help distract me.”
“Willing and able.”
“I want to blow off some steam at the roller rink with the fam,” she said. “You should bring Scotty.”
I blinked at her.
Scotty and I had gone on a few platonic dates, and I considered him a good friend. There was potential for more, but my heart was still fully invested in another man, which was, decidedly, bordering on tragic at this point. I liked Scotty; he was funny, laidback, and patient. But he knew I wasn’t all-the-way available right now, so he’d been voluntarily wading in the friend zone while we spent more and more time together.
Granted, he didn’t know why I was emotionally unavailable, but Scotty was also smart. He had a pretty good idea of who had commandeered my unrequited devotion.
Swallowing, I reached for the cola I’d ordered and took a sip from the straw. “The family, as in…your mom is coming?”
“Yup.” She popped the P. “Dad, too.”
I choked on the swallow but covered it well enough, feigning a tickle in my throat. “Oh. Isn’t that awkward? Since they aren’t together, I mean.”
“No, it’s never been awkward. Besides, I’m still getting vibes that they might reconcile.”
Something told me her vibes were wrong. “Interesting.”
“Yeah, it could be.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I don’t know, it’s kind of exciting to think about. Love winning out in the end, after all these years. I feel like it’s something we all yearn for. An epic love story that defies struggle, separation, and endless hurdles.” A whimsical smile shimmered in the sunlight. “And Mom and Dad don’t really date, so it makes me wonder if they’re waiting for each other. Not to mention, something is definitely up with my dad. He’s been acting sneaky, like he’s hiding something.”
I pushed the second soda toward Tara as I nibbled on my straw and stumbled on words. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been at the house much lately.”
Reed had been notably absent from the Stephens’ household, giving off flags that I worried bordered on neon-red. But I’d eavesdropped on a few phone calls and gathered that his reasons had alluded to added work shifts, new clientele, and dozens of other excuses that excluded me.
Tara had been going over to his apartment instead, and that was for the best.
For all of us.
So far, nobody had questioned it, nor my role in his sudden vanishing act.
Pondering this, Tara shrugged. “Maybe Mom and Dad got into a fight. He’ll come around.”
Twirling my straw in a thousand different directions, I nodded slowly, my eyes cast downward. “Well, skating sounds fun. Count me in.”