I blink back my own tears.
Nothing, nothing, is worse than seeing or hearing your mother suffer.
“Mom, stop. You’re scaring me.” I pound against the door
I hear the water running. She’s shutting me up. She can’t deal with me right now. Confused, I run back to the kitchen where my dad is standing in his thousand-dollar suit, prowling around the room and gathering all of his belongings.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Kassidy, I really can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.” He zips up the suitcase, picks it up along with the last trash bags on the floor, and passes me by without so much as a look.
“What? Dad, please. Why are you leaving?” Panic consumes me. I follow closely behind him, helpless as he dumps the last of the trash bags into his trunk and slams it shut. He reaches for his car door. Desperate, I run to him, grasping at his suit and yanking him back.
“Dad! Please,” I cry out.
He sighs, finally acknowledging my existence and staring me dead in the eyes to say, “Your mom and I are getting a divorce, Kassidy.”
I blink back tears.
“What? No. You… You can’t leave.” I feel so helpless, desperately looking for the right thing to say—if it even exists. “You guys are strong. You’ll figure it out. Don’t do this.” Just like that, I revert back into the five-year-old girl begging her father not to leave her at school.
“I have to. Your mom doesn’t want me here. Plus, I have a job offer in another town.”
I’m not going to pretend I didn’t see it coming, because the truth is, my parents haven’t been fine for a while, always arguing and yelling when they think we can’t hear them. Blame it on the stupid business trips my dad always takes. Still, it’s not like my dad to give up. He worked so hard to get this job as a college dean. Why give it up now?
“What happened? What could be so bad that you have to move out of the house and quit your job?” I shout. I need them to give me something. He turns his back on me, sliding inside his car. The opened window allows for one last false promise.
“I need time to figure things out. I’ll come back when I can be a better father to you and your brother.”
He drives until his car is nothing but a distant memory.
Now
Zoey: Girl, I’m sorry but I have to tell you. Callie just texted me. Will’s blowing up her phone. He wants to see her today.
Reading the text on my screen for the thousandth time, I try and trick my brain into believing that this is a misunderstanding. That there’s a rational explanation for this. One that doesn’t include Will deciding to pick up where he left off.
There’s no way he’s looking to fuck Callie again, right? I fight and fight, but the truth fights harder.
Rippppppp.
That’s the sound of my heart cracking open.
Way to ruin my day off.
Kass: Thanks for telling me.
To think I believed we were going somewhere yesterday. I thought when he said he drove to my house because he was worried about me that maybe…
God, I’m so stupid.
If he’d been able to pay Callie a visit yesterday, I’m sure he would’ve. Acting on impulse, I pull up a text conversation I haven’t opened in a long time.
Luke, the recipient reads.
Kass: Hey. We never got to go on that date.
Ten minutes later, my phone pings with a reply.
Luke: How’s tonight 8pm sound?
By the time I’m all prepped up and ready to go to Morgan’s for the day, it’s past eleven. Jogging down the stairs, I check my phone, still fuming at the thought of Zoey’s message. Fuck you, William Martins. I’m done wasting my time.
Turning the corner, I freeze at my mom’s voice and stretch my neck to see her roaming the kitchen, phone pressed to her ear. She doesn’t seem in the best mood, and by the looks of it, whoever’s on the other end of that call is to blame.
She keeps her voice down. “No, that’s enough, Nick. You need to stop harassing Kendrick.”
Nick.
She’s talking to my dad?
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to hide your calls? If your son wants to talk to you, he will.”
Wait, has my father been trying to contact us?
“No, I won’t talk to him for you. You’ve already said your piece. If he wants to meet you at Dale’s, he will.”
Dale’s.
My mind runs a thousand miles. Where have I heard that name before?
“And if you knew your son at all, you’d know he always gets hungry early. Seven’s way too late.”
I discern my dad’s muffled, barely audible voice but can’t make out what he’s saying.
“Goodbye, Nick,” she snaps, hanging up on him.
I immediately google Dale’s. The results trigger my memory, showcasing a restaurant downtown. A very fancy one at that. The kind of fancy where a glass of water costs fifty bucks. Shoving my phone into my back pocket, I pad into the kitchen, hugging my mom good morning and telling her I’m going to Morgan’s. And I am. For the majority of the day, at least. But I know where I’ll be at seven tonight…
Pulling into an empty spot at the restaurant and killing the engine, I peek at the time on my locked phone screen—6:59—and click on Will’s unanswered messages. He’s been texting me throughout the day, asking me what I’m doing.
Well, I sure know what he’s doing.
Or who.
I was in heaven when my mom called to tell me I could go pick up my car from the shop early. Let’s just say I wasn’t in the mood to crash my father’s dinner by bus. When seven strikes, I get out of my car and smooth down my clothes, collecting the little courage I have left with a spoon.
Breathe, Kass. You can do it.
I march toward the
