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Me:Are we okay?
I send the second message before she can respond to the first.
It feels like an eternity as I watch the dots that indicate that she’s typing, bounce across the screen.
Hope:We’re okay.
I don’t know if this is the truth or because she knows that right now it’s what I need to hear. Either way, I decide to take it at face value because the alternative is not something I can stomach at the moment.
Me:Don’t have too much fun without me this summer.
Hope:Not unless you count working and listening to Lulu complain about you all summer as fun.
Me:Maybe I’m glad to be in California after all.
Hope:Maybe you should be. ;)
I smile to myself, feeling slightly better about things.
Me:Talk later? I’m almost to Dad’s. The step-monster keeps looking at me...
Hope:Step-monster? LOL!
Me:That’s what I’m calling her now. It’s only a matter of time before he slaps a ring on it...
I hit send and then look back at her, doing a double take. Holy shit. There’s definitely a nice shiny diamond on her ring finger.
Me:Wait, hold on. Too late, there’s already a ring on there.
Hope:Shut up!?
Me:No shit. Guess that’s why he made reservations at my favorite restaurant tonight. He should have had her keep the ring off until then. Kinda gives it away.
Hope:Wow! I’m so sorry. How awkward for you.
Me:What part? The part where she’s only four years older than me? Or the part where they’ve only been dating a few months and he’s already spent half the money he got out of the divorce on a ring for a child?
Hope:Um, both?
Me:This is so like my dad.
Hope:Two months. Two months. Two months.
I can see her in my head as if she were sitting right in front of me, her eyes squeezed tight as she chants.
Me:Okay, we’re pulling in now. I really do have to go.
Hope:Talk later.
I have to resist the urge to say more, but instead I lock my phone and shove it back into my pocket.
Well, maybe I didn’t entirely fuck up my friendship with Hope, but one thing still remains true. This is going to be a very long two months.
——
“So you got settledin okay?” I lift my shoulder and hold the phone to my ear as I shove the key into the front door and push my way inside my dad’s house.
It’s been two weeks since I arrived in California. While things have calmed down since my arrival, in the sense that Dad told me he was marrying Katy and I didn’t completely blow a gasket, I still don’t want to be here.
