Will: Don’t forget!!
I make my way up to Addie’s bedroom, anxiety sitting in my stomach when I knock. “Yeah?” she calls out.
Opening the door, I find her still in bed, wearing the same thing as yesterday. And seeing my daughter like this, when she’s usually so bubbly, it breaks my heart. But I pull out the chair from her desk and sit. All I can do is hope this will pass.
“How are you doing?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Fine.”
“Addie, you’re clearly not—”
“I’m fine, Dad,” she bites back, and I pause, choosing a different path.
I look at her room, at all the pink and the fairy lights she made Will hang up last month. The corkboard covered in photos of her and Emmett doing various things over the years. The lack of anyone else is clear. He’s always been her person.
Without him, I don’t know who Addie is. I don’t think she does either. But that’s neither here nor there because whatever this is, there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that they’ll fix it. They always do.
“Have you tried calling him?”
“He hates me.”
“You keep saying that, but have you actually talked to him since—”
“He won’t want to talk to me.” She turns her head to look at me, her face scrunching up as tears start running down her face. “You don’t know what I did, Dad.”
“So tell me.” She shakes her head, no. “Addie, whatever you said, he’s been your best friend since you were kids, he’ll forgive you—”
“I know how long we’ve been friends,” she interrupts. “That’s why I know he won’t forgive me, Dad. He—I can’t—You don’t understand. There was no other way.”
I get up at the sound of her crying and cross the room to sit by the bed, feeling utterly helpless. “Addie. Tell me what happened.”
“He—” she sniffles, sitting up, not meeting my eyes. “He asked me to prom.”
I frown, no idea why that would be a bad thing. “Okay, you’ve been to every dance together, haven’t you? What’s wrong with that?”
She hides her face in her knees. “No, heaskedme to prom.Like. A date.”
Oh.
Wow.
Okay.
“And what did you say?” I force myself to ask, even though by the looks of it, it wasn’t good.
“Obviously, I said no. He’s my best friend. We can’t date,” she bites out, full of anger toward herself or Emmett or even me for asking.
And I try to think of what to say. A way to make this okay. But I know from experience that once you put that out there, you can’t take it back.
Jess would know what Addie needed to hear right now. She always did.
I always sat back and let her handle these things, and now, when my daughter needs me, I don’t have the words to help her.
“Well,” I start anyway. “I know this may seem like a big deal right now, but when it comes down to it, Emmett would rather have you as a friend than not at all, don’t you think?”
Her only response is a shrug before she lies back down, pulling the blankets over her head. And I leave her with that. I know it’s the truth, and she does too, deep down. If only they would speak to each other.
Out in the hallway, I lean against the wall and pull out my phone, clicking on Jess’s contact. It rings twice before it stops, the person on the other end hitting decline.
