Page 5 of So Long, Honey

“That’s why,” She said before I could, “now please move.”

“You’re not very friendly,” I said.

“You’re not very smart,” she retorted, catching me off guard as she pulled on the door.

That time, I moved for her. A shred of insult hit home with her last remark, and the fight drained from my muscles. I watched her scurry down the hallway, expecting to feel relief when she turned the corner, but instead, I was flooded with the need to see her again.

FIELD

Mom was sitting at the table when I got home from school, her eyes dragging across whatever she was reading. I snuck through the kitchen and up the stairs to my room, dropping my book bag on the floor and curling into bed.

I had been uncomfortable since that morning, and despite doing my usual routine of class, volunteering in the office and library for an hour after lunch and again after school… I just couldn’t shake the conversation I had overheard.

It wasn’t my first time in that kind of position. Most people didn’t notice when I was around, and it constantly put me in situations where I was left to overhear arguments and conversations I shouldn’t, exactly like the one-sided argument between Ryan and his father. The pit in my stomach wouldn’t let me forget the sound of Ryan’s head hitting metal, no matter how hard I tried.

I wondered how many people knew about how his father treated him. It couldn’t have been many if any at all. The way he had instantly tried to protect his father from criticism suggested he was emotionally carrying the blame for the abuse. A strained,guilty feeling overtook me when my thoughts wandered to what it was like having parents that hit you, and maybe it would be better than having ones that just ignored you.

At least they cared enough to be angry.

But that wasn’t right. I was just mad at my situation and did not consider how horrible Ryan's experience was. Science suggests that stars form from a collection of gas and dust, which collapses due to gravity and starts to form stars. If Ryan were a star, the school, the teachers, the coaches, and his father would seemingly be at that gravity.

It was a lot of pressure to put on a seventeen-year-old.

The more I considered the situation, the more I was glad that my mother barely saw me. I kept my head down and worked hard, and one day, I’d be able to leave this town behind and make a life for myself that felt full. But not before my foolish teenage hormones overpowered every logical thought in my brain about a boy.

I rationalized each intrusive thought of Ryan Cody that brought a foolish smile to my lips or stirred around the butterflies in my stomach. He had seen me twice when I thought I was hidden from the world, and it was doing something to my brain and heart that I wasn’t familiar with.

I chewed on my lip and slipped back out of bed, digging through my yearbooks until I found the one from the year before. I sank to the floor and flipped it open, finding his face quickly. His stupid dirty blonde hair was shorter than its current length, but his green eyes were as flirty and judgmental as ever. The air caught in my lungs, imagining the golden flecks that danced in the shades of green. High cheekbones, perfect cupid bow lips that curled into a devilish smirk that knotted in the pit of my stomach.

He had smiled at me like that today, turning my coherent thoughts into ribbons.

I liked being ignored because it saved me from ridicule. It was hard enough being the mayor's daughter without the attention of the High school star baseball player. I flipped through the book and found the team photo, finding him almost instantly in the front row. His shoulders were pinned back, and that same stupid smile on his face.

I slammed the book closed and tossed it back in the box.

He was just some dumb boy with a pretty smile. It meant nothing.

“Lorraine.” A knock at the door made me jump.

I opened the door to my mother, her face stern and void of the normal olive tone she tans it to.

“There’s a young man on our step,” she said, and my brows furrowed.

“A boy?” I questioned.

“Yes, he claims he’s here for tutoring,” she explained, and I had only more questions.

“I’ll be right down,” I said.

“Lorraine,” she used a tone that meant topay attention. “You know the rules.”

“No one in the house without an appointment,” I groaned. This was a rule for my father, not for me, but somehow, I was always held to the same standards.

It’s why I stopped trying to make friends. No one wanted to befriend the Mayor’s daughter when they had to schedule a drop-in. When she disappeared from the hallway, I turned back to the mirror, unable to do anything about my mousy brown hair and exhausted-looking eyes. I chewed on my lip and took a deep breath.

It was unusual for anyone to show up on our doorstep, let alone a boy and one who was willing to lie to my mother’s terrifyingly stern face. I took the back stairs and leaned around the banister blocking the front foray hallway. He couldn’t seeme, but Ryan Cody was in perfect view from my position. All six feet of him, with shaggy, wavy blonde hair. Those chunky bangs brushed against his temples as his green eyes surveyed his surroundings. His bookbag was over his shoulder, and his hands were in the pockets of his jeans as he waited.

“Send him away,” I whispered to my mother as she rounded the corner adjacent to the kitchen.