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“My baby girl doesn’t need a man to complete her,” he says to Mum, raising his eyebrows. “She’s perfect all on her own.”
My hero!
With a grin, I attack the second piece of cake, its sinfully sweet taste seducing me to eat more.
Mum nudges Dad. “You’re the reason she’s been single ever since high school. Stop spoiling her so much.”
“She decides if, and when she’s ready for another relationship.” He smiles, his cobalt blue eyes boring into my identical ones.
I mouth, ‘I love you, Dad,’ which morphs his smile into a grin.
“Besides,” he says, “we should be celebrating her accomplishment instead. Our baby is now an artist.”
“With her grades, she could’ve been a successful med student by now.”
My arms drop to my side. “Mum, please. Would you stop throwing that around? I’m anxious enough as it is.”
“Leave her alone, Lily,” Dad says with a gentle tone, offering me a sympathetic look. “It’s her life. We don’t get to live it for her.”
My unconditional hero!
“I can’t win with you two.” Mum sighs and ushers me outside.
I grab my handbag, my coat, and left.
Sydney’s car awaits in front of my parents’ house.
She throws me a grin as I settle inside. Her heavy black make-up coupled with the white hair too witch-like. “Ready to bring out your inner diva?”
“Always am.” I wink as we take off to the club.
Sydney talks about school and her next project, but my mind doesn’t filter her words. My eyes stay glued to the rear-view mirror, expecting a monster to jump us any second.
And the worst part is that I’m giddy about seeing him one more time.
“Mae!”
I startle at Sydney’s yell.
Oh hell.
I didn’t hear a word she said. I’m becoming a horrible friend. This can’t go on. I’m slowly losing myself in this turmoil. “I need to tell you something, Syd.”
“What?” she asks, her attention on the road.
Okay, this is it.
“I think I’m being followed.”
She steals a quick glance my way, her eyebrows creasing, but quickly focuses back on the road. Silence remains the only element for a moment. Sydney is probably weighing things in her head. She’s always been the patient type. Nothing like me.
“Say something, Syd.” I plead.
“Are you sure it’s not another manifestation of your Nyctophobia?” she asks in her calmest voice, the one meant for business.
“No, it’s not about that.”
“Then have you seen the one following you?”
