His lips went tight. He didn’t like references to the accident,as he called it. Like I’d gotten into a car wreck or slipped off a curb or something. I knew it was based in concern, and his inability to process emotions. As my therapist would say, anyway.
My phone buzzed.
CORA: STOP IGNORING ME!
I stuffed my phone back in my pocket. Cora glared at me on screen.
“I wrote about your truck on the blog last week,” I said to Dad, ignoring her.
Blogging was a big part of what I did for Brett’s parents. I used to do that as freelance work when I was living the nomad lifestyle, but all my clients dried up when I vanished on them. I’d saved up a ton of money doing that while living on a shoestring in other parts of the world, but I’d put it all into my condo when I got home. So auto parts it was.
Dad let out a pleased little huff, then went off about his new truck while I sipped my soda water, glaring back at my sister. Dad was talking to her too, so she had to smile in between pointed looks at me. Tristan’s head had drooped onto his chest and he was snoring softly. No one else seemed to have noticed.
My phone buzzed again. And again. I ignored it. Cora and I had perfected the art of texting under the table while keeping neutral expressions above, so despite her smiling at Dad, I knew it was her sending an escalating series of threats to tell her what was happening.
Mom came back in, holding a giant white cake covered in little green frosted leaves.
Happy Half-Birthday Sam!It said on the top.
“Mom!” Cora said, her expression disbelieving. “Really?”
I wished, badly, that I was anywhere else.
My phone buzzed again as Cora and Mom argued abouthow people didn’t celebrate half birthdays. Dad had gone back to his game.
I pulled out my phone, already preparing my response to Cora in my head.
Yes, there’s something going on. No, I can’t tell you yet, because I don’t know what it means or how to fucking deal with any of it. Once I do, I promise you can have a field day telling me what an idiot I am.
When I glanced down, I saw there were seven texts from my sister, all of them way too many words.
But then my stomach flipped. Because right before those, there were two texts from an unknown number.
“I have to take this,” I said.
Mom and Cora were fully engaged now, and Tristan was actively snoring, his mouth half-open. Dad yelled something at the TV. No one noticed as I got up and headed through the kitchen out the back door.
Outside, the late summer sunset had only just started, the sky beginning to tinge pink and orange over the neighbors’ back yard. It was stunning, but I barely saw it.
I dropped onto the top step of the stairs leading down to the backyard and opened my phone with sweaty fingers.
UNKNOWN: I’m sorry. I freaked out. I didn’t have all the information and I assumed the worst. That wasn’t fair.
UNKNOWN: This is Ellie by the way.
I held the phone in my hand. What the hell did I say? I didn’t want her to be sorry. She had nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who freaked out. I stillwasfreaking out.
At a loss, I hit the call button.
Ellie answered on the second ring. “What is wrong with you?”
“A lot, actually.”
A beat passed. Maybe that didn’t come out funny like I’d meant it to.
“I mean why didn’t you text back like a normal person?” she asked.
“I’m better at talking. And autocorrect hates me. But I could hang up and text you back?”
