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My eyebrow quirks. “The soda, or the fact that it’s diet?”
Dad shakes his head and takes another sip even though it makes his face squish up in resentment. “This diet crap. Molly is making me eat and drink healthier now. Hey, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes going wide. “Help me refill all the two liter bottles with real Coke. She’ll never know the difference.”
I give him a warning glare. “She’ll know, Dad. She will so know.”
He makes a gagging sound. “That woman . . . always looking out for my best interests . . .”
“I know, what a bitch.” I roll my eyes and Dad bursts into laughter.
“She’s great, though, isn’t she?”
I nod and crack open a can of diet soda just to be supportive of him. I’d really rather have the kind without the weird acidy no calorie taste, too. “Molly is great.”
Dad runs a hand through his short hair, which is turning more gray than brown. He gazes out at the track. “So, you got any plans for tonight? Some Friday night shindig that I should be worried about?”
I lift my shoulders. There was a time when Friday nights meant date nights and late night movie watching while cuddling up with Ash. They’re the only off days on a weekend during racing season. Now, I hadn’t even realized it was Friday. “I’ll probably just hang out with Shelby,” I say. “No one has invited me to one of these shindigs you’re talking about.”
“Maybe we’ll throw our own party. You, your friends, and your dear old dad. We’ll have non-alcoholic drinks and play Scrabble . . . eat some kind of gross healthy food.” Dad winks at me and I shake my head in a violent but playful no.
“I am way too cool to be seen partying with my dad.” My phone beeps from inside of my pocket.
“I know, I know.” Dad waves a dismissive hand at me. “You’re off the clock now. Go have fun and enjoy being young.”
*
After a shower, I text Shelby before blow drying my hair. We’d talked earlier—an in-depth chat about how Jake had taken a family trip to Florida and brought her back a pink gold bracelet that was beautiful and romantic, she’d said, and its importance/purpose definitely had to be scrutinized with her best friend for an hour.
We’d gotten so swept up in analyzing the meaning of the bracelet—does he love her? Does it mean he wants to take things to another level? Is an engagement ring coming next? —that I totally forgot to ask what she’s doing tonight. Back before she and Jake got serious, I could count on Shelby being free anytime I was. Now, it’s a game of chance with weighted dice. I usually lose.
By the time she replies to my what’s up text, my hair is almost fully dry.
Cleaning out my closet. You?
I’m doing nothing…which is why I need my best friend! Wanna hang out?
My stomach twists as I send the text. If she declines, I’ll be left home alone with just my stupid thoughts to keep me company. The longer it takes her to reply, the more stressed out I get.
Finally, she replies.
Ugh, I already promised dinner at Jake’s. He’s cooking and everything. Wanna hang out later? It might be late.
Turns out trying not to get my hopes up doesn’t really help. Sure, I text back. Just let me know when you’re free.
Will do! Love you!?
I tell her I love her too, and then I cringe as I realize what I’m about to do next. I haven’t talked to my friend, Alyson, in months, not since I ditched her party invite and subsequently politely declined every other invitation she sent my way. But these are hard times, and a girl could go crazy sitting in her room all night, so I find her name on my contacts list and send a message, an SOS of sorts, hoping that she’ll drag me to shore and save my night.
Her reply is instant, in true fashion to how she always has her phone in her hand.
OMG wish I could hang out! Forgot you’d be back in town but I’m in Mexico visiting my grandma for a few weeks. Hit you up when I get back!
I sigh, a long drawn out rush of annoyance and self-loathing, letting my shoulders sink until I’ve expelled all of my air and have to gasp for another breath. One thing that made college life great was that I was never really bored. I either had assignments to do, or I could walk around campus and look at art exhibits or peaceful protests, or even just bring my laptop to the coffee shop and hang out and people watch for a while. Now that I am home, there is nothing to do.
I hear the sound of my little brother rushing up the stairs, and without thinking about the lame factor of what I’m doing, I push open my door and meet him in the hallway. “Wanna hang out? We can rent a movie, even one of those dumb action movies you like.”
“Wow, you make it sound so fun,” Teig says, making a face as he sidesteps me and goes to his bedroom. “I’m staying at Lawrence’s house tonight. You can drive me if you want.”
I lean against his doorframe and cross my arms. “You’re too cool to hang out with your big sister? Fine, I guess I’ll have fun without you.”
