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“There’s a poetry night going on in Boulder during Spring Break,” I find myself saying. “If I apply and get accepted, will you go with me? There’s supposed to be some pretty big names there. I might get scouted.” I wink at her, eliciting a giggle.
Rachel nods and her hand slips away from my shoulder. “Yeah. I would totally go. I have nothing better to do anyway.” I watch her slowly walk towards the door, my gaze dropping to her plump ass, wanting to cup it, run my palms along her smooth skin. “I better get back to Alex and Seth. They’re probably sitting in silence, waiting for me to call the pizza guy.”
I roll my eyes. Seth and Alex have been so weird lately. I can see them now, sitting in the dark, too lazy to turn on the light, ignoring each other while looking at their phones. “Good luck,” I call.
Rachel chuckles. “It’ll get better when Hunter and pizza arrive.”
The moment the door closes my phone vibrates and I grab it, clicking the green phone icon without looking at the ID. My mistake.
“Hello?” I say into the receiver.
“Lucas?”
My eyes widen. “Dad?”
Why is he calling me? Is this a pocket dial? It has to be. There’s no way Dad would willingly call me. Especially after how he treated me during brunch not that long ago. He’s probably going to give me a lame excuse and hang up.
“Are you busy?” he asks. “Do you have time to talk?”
What the hell is actually happening? Did hell freeze over today? Am I sleeping and having a nightmare? I pinch my arm just to be safe and grimace. Nope. I’m definitely awake. “Okay,” I say hesitantly, curious as to where this could be going and mildly nervous this will end in an argument.
“I was wondering if we could visit in April and go rafting like we used to.”
Dad and I haven’t gone white water rafting since I was fourteen. We used to go all the time when I was a kid. My parents started me early, at the age of five, going down Class 1 rapids, which is the easiest level. Eventually, I leveled up and started going down the more high tense rapids when I was twelve. We stopped at fourteen, because Dad got too busy to go, and wanted me to focus on rowing. White water rafting always made Mom nervous. She never went with us. Most of the time she either stayed in the cabin, or remained in New York. The outdoors aren’t really her thing.
“Rafting?” I ask. “Are you sure?”
“Why not?” Dad says easily. “It’s been a while since your mom and I were in Colorado and they do have the best rivers for it.”
I shrug. “Sure.” Why not, indeed. Most likely he will call back in a month and cancel; become suddenly busy with a business trip. There’s no shame in acting flexible now. Interesting that he’s calling tonight after my discussion with Lori. Kinda makes me feel even more guilty, since he is trying to have a relationship with me.
“Did he say yes?” I hear Mom shout in the background.
Dad sighs, sounding annoyed. “Yes!” he shouts.
“Didn’t I tell you he would say yes?” Mom sounds drunk. She’s slurring her words. “And you thought this was a stupid idea.”
Dad sighs again and I clench my jaw to keep myself from saying anything that will cause another fight. I can’t help the anger rising inside me, the sorrow. So, this was mostly Mom’s idea? Not Dad’s. I don’t know why, but that hurts more. It’s stupid, this feeling, wanting my dad’s attention after all these years, knowing he doesn’t care for anything other than his image and his money. Why can’t I let this go? Why do I keep yearning for his affection?
“Alright, well, I better let you go,” I rasp, my eyes prickling with unwed tears. Oh my God, am I really going to cry right now? This is ridiculous. I should have expected this. “I’ll see you in April. Let me know which weekend you prefer and I will ask for it off.” Jason is going to be pissed, but that’s his issue, not mine. I’m allowed a weekend off, and if he tries to make me come in, I will feign sickness, even if Dad and Mom cancel. I deserve a break either way.
“Alright, see you in April,” Dad says distantly.
The moment I hang up I drop my cell onto the floor, not caring if it breaks. I’m over people and the world right now. I just might go into the living room and eat pizza while playing video games. After dealing with my parents, I deserve a little treat. Although, no matter how kind or cruel they are, I still can feel the rope of guilt wrapping slowly around my throat. But what can I do? I already signed the contract. Maybe now is the time to let go and move on.
Chapter 11
ALEX
Thegymisstuffy.Sweat drips down my face and arms. My breath comes out in hot pants as I try to focus on the track ahead rather than the heat sticking to my skin. I’m wearing Puma’s new running shorts—the ones I received after doing a photo shoot for their new campaign over winter break. They clean to my thighs as I surge forward, my arm pumping up and down as I put the last of my remaining energy into the run. My lungs burn from the force, but I ignore it. I’m on my last lap. I can think about rest after the walk home.
Seth is sidled close to me, wearing something he bought from Wallie World. As much as I try to focus on my breathing and my pacing, I can’t stop my gaze from sliding towards him. Sweat soaks the front of his tank top. His shorts sway around him as he runs. He really should invest in better running attire, but then again, not all of us are as privileged as me. His hair is slicked with sweat and I watch a droplet run down the length of his nose, and drip onto his upper lip. His tongue slips out to wipe it away. I would be grossed out. Instead, I’m entranced, hooked to him like Rachel is hooked on coffee.
He looks good with the extra weight on his body. I can’t help noticing how his arm have filled out, how his face isn’t so angular, how he doesn’t look exhausted with each step he takes. He’s clearly been working out at the gym to keep up with his new eating regime, and it’s definitely working for him. I notice those thick abs under his shirt, and how his shoulders have broadened. He’s not thick like Hunter or Lucas. He is a runner after all. We don’t get big like the football players. However, he’s not as lanky as he used to be. He looks healthy.
I should be happier than I currently feel. He’s doing better than a year ago. Instead, I feel frustrated. He isn’t quite avoiding me, yet it feels the same. Last night, when Rachel went to invite Lucas to pizza and games, he took out his phone and scrolled through it, reading whatever was on social media. I couldn’t even call him out, because it’s not like he’s being rude. He does go for morning runs with me. We just don’t talk. He doesn’t run away from me in the locker room, but he’s usually looking at his phone if we’re alone. And now, he’s running next to me, fighting for the front, but it lacks the usual banter. He should be yelling at me, calling me an asshole. Even his cruelty is better than this indifference.
Why am I so fucked up? I shouldn’t be missing our arguments, but I do. I miss whatever attention he would give me—a smile or a scowl, a laugh or a jibe. His attention is focused forward and he surges forward, getting a few inches in front. There’s no way I’m letting him win this one, not even to hear him gloat. I push to the front, sidling next to him. The line isn’t too far, max five more minutes. I will win this, and then I will rub it in his face, like I usually do. Maybe then, he’ll finally look at me.
