“True. Yeah, maybe,” I replied, even though there was no chance of me going.
Zero.
As if he could hear our conversation from his school across town, Charlie texted me an hour later.
Charlie: What’re you doing?
Me: Study hall. Reading.
Charlie: Book, please.
I smiled and texted: The Kingdom of Diamonds and Ash.
Charlie: I TOLD YOU NOT TO BOTHER!!! It’s just royals with magical powers, having sex.
Me: 10/10 would read based off that description.
Charlie: Little pervert.
Me: That’s “Lil” pervert, thank you very much.
I still couldn’t believe he’d read it. Charlie’s mom was a big reader, and when she’d gushed about how great it was, he’d given it a try.
And hated it. Ranted to me for twenty minutes last week about how god-awful it was.
I replied: Reading is subjective. Just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean it isn’t good.
Charlie: Sometimes you say the most ridiculous things.
Me: As do you.
Charlie: Btw—if I have people over tonight, you’re coming, right?
I looked at the words and felt a tiny thrill that he wanted me to come. Even though he only meant it as a friend, it felt good to know he wanted me there. I texted:
I doubt it. I have to work on my lit paper all weekend.
Charlie: Sometimes you say the most ridiculous things. I’ll text you my address.
I wasn’t going to go, but his insistence put me in a good mood for the rest of the day.
When I got home from school, my mom was already there, and there was no sign of Scott. She was sitting on the sofa, watching Poldark （she’d only just started the series）， and when I came in, she grinned.
“Are you off tonight?” she asked, Puffball sound asleep on her chest.
“Yeah—I never work Fridays,” I said, slipping off my shoes and leaning down to scratch Mr. Squishy between his ears.
“Yay,” she said excitedly. “Scott has something going on tonight, so I thought it might be fun to go out for pizza. Just you and me, like old times.”
Nothing had ever sounded better. I dropped my bag and said, “I’m in—let’s go.”
She looked at the clock. “It’s four thirty.”
“Fine.” I plopped down beside her on the couch and said, “We’ll watch two more episodes, and then we’re gone.”
“Deal.”
It was nice, just the two of us. I didn’t actually know how long it’d been since we’d had an evening alone, but it felt like comfort and home and everything that was soothing. It was a moment of life unchanged, as if everything new and threatening had been removed from its spot on the horizon, and I wanted to wrap myself in its presence and take a long nap.
We got so sucked into the show that we were surprised by the darkness when we finally turned it off.
“No wonder I’m starving,” my mom said as she grabbed her keys and I put on my shoes. “I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“Stupid Ross Poldark,” I muttered, which made her head snap up.
“I’m sorry, did you say he’s stupid?” she asked.
“Oh no.” I shook my head, knowing what was coming, as I said, “Yes, I said Ross Poldark is stupid.”
She looked at me and grinned, and it was on. The silly, immature game we used to play had returned.
“Ross Poldark is so stupid, he went away to war and left his fiancée with his cousin,” she said, locking the door behind us as we left.
“Ross Poldark is so stupid,” I said as we walked to the car, “that he scythes an entire wheat field in the heat without pulling his hair up into a man bun.”
“Ross Poldark is so stupid,” she said as she merged onto the interstate, “that he tells his wife where he’s going when he sleeps with his ex.”
When we got to Zio’s, we grabbed a table in the back room, by the big fireplace, and ordered our pizza. It felt so good, so relaxed, to be 100 percent myself because no one else was with us.
It was weird how you could spend a lot of time with someone, but if it wasn’t one-on-one, it wasn’t the same. It felt like it’d been ages since I’d hung out with my mom, even though I spent time with her every single night.
Because Scott was always there.
He didn’t do anything wrong when he came over, but his presence changed the vibe so much that it was unrecognizable.
I’d missed this so much.
I knew it was melodramatic, but I felt like I could breathe around my mom for the first time in so long.
“Did your dad tell you he’s moving?” she asked.
“What?” I hadn’t meant to say it so loudly, but I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was moving?
I looked at my mom, and her expression said it all. He was moving and just hadn’t gotten around to telling me yet. I wasn’t sure what was more depressing—the fact that I might never go into my childhood home again, or the fact that my father hadn’t even thought to tell me.
“He sold the house and is moving to an apartment in the city—you seriously didn’t know?”
I shook my head and felt numb as I pictured the living room where Santa had left my Barbie house when I was six and where my parents had laughed hysterically—together—as I screamed with joy. “No.”
“I thought he would’ve told you right away,” she said, looking concerned. “When was the last time you talked to him?”
“Um, like, a few months ago…？”
“What?” She looked instantly worried and leaned a little closer. “Did you two have a disagreement or something? How come it’s been so long?”
“No argument,” I said, trying to act like I wasn’t freaking out inside. “I just, um, I was always the one calling him first, so I decided to let him take the lead. You know, I figured I’d wait until he called.”
“And he hasn’t called in months? Oh, honey.” My mom came around the table, sat down in the chair beside me, and gave me a side hug. “What the hell is the matter with him?”
I shrugged and didn’t know what to say, but telling her somehow made his absence better. Less painful. She was part of our trio, so she knew him, knew us, which made it feel like she knew exactly how bad it felt.
“Surprise!”
Gahhh! I put my hand on my chest, startled, and looked away from my mom’s understanding gaze to see Scott, grinning at us like it’d been years since he’d seen us. He was wearing a suit and tie, all dressed up, and it felt clownish because he’d interrupted something important.
What in the ever-loving hell?
I gritted my teeth, overcome with bitterness that he was there. The most we’d been able to enjoy was a few random hours before Scott was back in our lives.
My mom let go of me and squealed, also like she hadn’t seen him in an age, and she excitedly asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted some pizza,” he said, still with the huge smile.
“Oh my gosh—sit down,” she said, so happy to see him. “There’s plenty of room.”
I watched in disappointment as Scott grabbed the chair across from my mom.
“Okay,” he said, sitting down. “If you insist.”