Page 101 of We Drank the Dawn

At the sound of his voice, I relaxed against the wooden wall behind me, which greatly confused me but I didn’t have time to question it. Ever since he attacked me in his sleep, we hadn’t harassed or berated each other. There seemed to be a truce of sorts. I wasn’t sure what changed or why we dropped our weapons, but in one swooping moment, I was glad we did.

I answered, “I was talking on the phone. I thought I was alone.”

“Gotcha. I read in the hayloft after dinner most nights.”

Ah, so that’s where he went.

I said, “You probably heard my entire conversation.”

“Nope. I use ear buds while I read and half the time I accidentally fall asleep.”

“What are you reading?”

“I just finished To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Oh, so he read classics? I couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling behind my lips. “You sure you’re not an eighty year old man?”

“Last I checked.” Cooper chuckled.

As he turned to go, my dad’s words rattled in my head.

One fire at a time.

I hadn’t considered Cooper a fire in my life, but in that moment, I realized I liked his company and didn’t want my current instability to color his ongoing opinion of me. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have been half as rude as I’d been with Cooper the last few days.

“Hey, Cooper?”

He turned back. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say…I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass.” I scraped up my energy, taking all the responsibility I possibly could. “I’ve purposefully made stuff more difficult than it needed to be by complaining and dragging my feet. I’ve been taking my misery out on you. And I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

Cooper was silent for a couple seconds before he said, “Yeah, well, I’m no saint, Peter. I’m not looking for a confession.”

“But I needed to apologize.”

He hesitated, a little uncomfortable. “Then I hope it made you feel better.”

With that, he turned and walked away. And the darkness pressing against me felt a little lighter.

THIRTY-FOUR

Sarah

My stomach growled as I waited on the front porch. Between packing and working, it had been a grueling week. Hours and days blurred together. I’d had an apple for breakfast that morning and hadn’t stopped for a meal ever since. The term hangry fit the bill, and my frustration ticked up and up as Jackie’s impending arrival inched closer to fifteen minutes late.

Standing on the porch with nothing to do was my idea of torture.

My fidgeting hands and tense breaths turned into stamping feet and frustrated sighs. I wanted to get out of the house, eat dinner, and have a good time already. I hated being here. Anywhere was better than here.

I couldn’t linger too long in the hallway outside Peter’s home office because I’d remember the way those warm brown eyes flicked over a page of numbers without ever having to pull out a calculator. I’d remember the way he’d twirl his pen over the top of his hair or gently chew the inside of his lip when he focused.

Sometimes, I would sneak into his office when he worked late just to watch him. And when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I would ask a silly question to break his focus. “Whatcha doing?” He always cracked when I did that. He’d drop the pen, lean back, and lace his hands behind his head with a smile that turned me into a puddle.

But that Peter didn’t exist anymore.

I had to remind myself of that over and over and over

Finally, a car pulled in. It was a black sports car with blue lights underneath that left a circular pattern on the concrete driveway. Loud music pulsed from the bass speakers, setting my teeth on edge.