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He doesn’t answer the phone, so I text him again.
Xavi:
Where the fuck are you, man?
I wait, but of course he doesn’t reply.
Sighing, I pull my wallet out of my pocket and find the folded up strip of photos I keep tucked behind my cash. I told myself I wouldn’t do this when I got here, but I can't help it. Looking at this calms me down just as much as it breaks my heart.
Careful not to crease it more than it already is, I run my fingers over Katy’s beautiful face, remembering the day we took these pictures together. We were fucking around at the mall. She really needed to pee, and I thought it’d be funny to drag her into one of those old school photo booths and trap her in there with me. She was laughing so hard she was screaming, and she almost pissed herself right there when I pinned her to the seat and tickled her until she throat punched me.
She had a whole box of photos like these in her closet when she was alive, but I have no idea where they are now. I wasn’t allowed in her house after she died. I don’t know what her parents did to her room or what they kept and didn’t keep. I have my own pictures, videos and voice notes stored on my phone, but this strip of photos is one of the only two physical things I have left of her, one of the only things I have that actually belonged to her.
My phone rings, and I swipe my eyes before I pick it up, deflating when I see it’s my dad.
“Hello?”
“I told you I expect you to call me,” he says as his greeting, sounding like he’s distracted at work, as usual. “Are you there yet?”
“Yeah,” I answer, picking at the stones on the ground between my feet.
I told him I was driving up here today, but he doesn’t know where I’m staying. I told him it was handled when he offered to help me out with housing, and he surprisingly left it alone. He probably thinks my mom hooked me up with an apartment, which is pretty laughable if you ask me. Mom can barely remember I exist most days, let alone rent me a place to live.
“What’s your place like?”
“Fine.”
“You don't sound very excited about it.”
“I’m thrilled, Dad. Really.”
“Watch the attitude, Xavier,” he warns, but I’m no longer listening.
I tune him out when he starts with his regular lecture. My thoughts drift back to Nate, and I turn my face to peek at the house behind me, wondering what he’s doing with that drunk girl he brought home just now. Frankie, I think he called her. She’s stunning, because of course she is. Ash blonde hair, big blue eyes, curves for days and a body I’m sure most guys would kill for a piece of.
“...stay out of trouble and do not embarrass me…”
I bet he worships every inch of her when he fucks her.
A sick thrill shoots through me, and I find myself picturing what he looks like when he’s on top of her. He’s probably taking his anger out on her right this second, brusing her thighs with his fingers and fucking into her as hard as he can, thinking of me as he does it…
I hear a deep sigh in my ear, and then, “Are you on drugs again, Xavier?”
“Fucking hell, Dad.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I told you I’m sober.”
“Addicts are compulsive liars. Do you really expect me to believ—”
“You know what? You’re right. I gotta go. My dealer’s on the other line.”
“Xavier.”
I roll my eyes and hang up the phone, tossing it down on my lap.
I should probably stop being such a brat to him considering he’s the one paying my tuition, but fuck it. No point in trying to be better for a man who knows I never will be.
