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I push my food around with my fork but still manage a small smile. “I think so. He’s great, and he treats her well, so . . .” I shrug as I let my voice trail off.
“And what about you?” my mother asks.
My smile fades, and I repeat, “What about me?”
She stares at me expectantly before circling her fork to urge me to explain. “Are you dating anyone?”
“No,” I answer too quickly, but my cheeks heat. Desperate to hide any proof of Jackson, I stuff another bite of casserole into my mouth.
Mom’s stare lingers. It’s the look I imagine her giving someone during a cross-examination. “Are you sure?”
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “I think I’d know if I had a boyfriend.” I can still feel her eyes on me, so I take another bite, determined to shovel down my food as fast as I can.
“Chris has been asking about you.”
My head snaps up, and I almost choke when I force myself to swallow my food too early. “Why?”
Just the thought of my ex-boyfriend still lingering in my life gives me an uneasy feeling. It’s a combination of guilt and dread, and I was a lot happier when I didn’t have it swirling around in my stomach ten seconds ago.
Guilt for not being as upset about our breakup as he was.
And dreading the possibility of seeing him again while I’m home.
My mother shrugs but still manages to carry her nose in the air as she does. “Why don’t you ask him? It might be good for you two to talk things out.”
My hand clenches around my fork. “So, what are our plans for Christmas?”
When my mother doesn’t answer right away, probably debating whether she should let me get off that easily, my dad fills the silence. “It’s going to be small this year. Looks like it will be just the three of us.”
I raise my eyebrows. Christmas is usually spent at my grandparents’ house an hour away.
“Your grandparents want to visit Uncle Max in Utah this year,” Dad says with a shrug. “Max can’t make it down, and they want to be fair.”
“So, it’s just the three of us,” I echo, and hopefully, they can’t hear the despair in my voice. Being an only child means holidays aren’t usually a big affair, but I don’t think it’s ever been just us. There’s always been at least one grandparent and maybe a stray cousin. “Okay,” I say with a nod before taking my last bite. As soon as my plate is empty, I jump to my feet. “I’m going to head upstairs. Tired from the flight,” I say with a yawn as I pick up my plate and head to the kitchen sink. I don’t realize my parents are watching me intently until I’ve rinsed the plate and put it in the dishwasher.
“You’re sure?” my dad asks with mild concern.
“Yeah.” I give him my best smile. Turning to head back upstairs, I call out, “Love you guys!” over my shoulder.
Peanut slips in behind me as I close my bedroom door. I flop onto my bed and stare at my ceiling while my hand is met with soft head bumps and loud purrs. As I listen to my parents’ hushed conversation about me downstairs, I miss the comfort of my dorm.
Reaching for my phone, I text Rae.
Margot:
Is it just me, or is being home suddenly suffocating?
She answers right away.
Rae:
Yes. What did Jackson say when you texted him?
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I stare at her message, not sure how to respond. Before I have the chance to answer, those three dots appear again.
Rae:
Because you did text him, right?
