AllFreeNovel
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“I know which. I’ll grab it.”
She sighs softly. “Thank you. How far away are you? I miss you.”
I swivel my head in search of a street sign and find one a few feet to my left. “About ten minutes.”
“Okay. Be safe.”
With a reluctant goodbye, I end the call and put my phone away. I should have been selfish and brought her with me tonight. It’s not like she didn’t spend enough time with Sparks and Josh on tour.
If she were here with me, I wouldn’t have been thinking about seeing my dad and Braden together tomorrow. In Braden’s house. Dealing with them one-on-one is bad enough, but together? The tightness in my chest is only going to grow. This already constant thrum of discomfort is bound to become unbearable.
This is for her. Every year, I’ve done this. Put up with their disapproval. She’ll be happy with them around. That’s what’s important.
Focus on what comes after an uncomfortable situation. Is it relief? Pride in yourself that you were able to push through the discomfort without running?
The voice of my fourth therapist drifts through my head as I turn down the sidewalk toward the corner store beside the entrance of our neighbourhood. The first three shrinks were worthless. But the fourth . . . he at least attempted to figure me out. He failed but came closer than any of them did both before and after.
For some reason, I clung to that one piece of advice he gave me. It was the most useful information I received in my adolescence. I’ve repeated it in my mind more times than I can count over the past decade. If I were a better person, I would find that shrink and thank him for trying that day. But I don’t even remember his name. I don’t care to learn it either.
The familiar white sign is bright over the dark street. From the first night we moved into the dump that is our house, we’ve spent too much fucking money at this place. The common corner store price markups plague this place like it does every other. It’s the same overpriced, stale food that you’d find at every other shitty place like this, but it’s ours. Tinsley will probably drag me here even after we move. She’s sentimental that way.
The door jingles when I walk inside. The aisles are set up the same way they were before we left, and I head for the back of the store. Two freezers hold the ice cream and frozen dinners. I find the carton of ice cream with the green lid and bite back a smirk.
Mint chocolate chip is her favourite. I hate the taste of it.
Black licorice is my favourite. She hates the taste of it.
I grab a carton of both and head back. The kid working the till is staring down at his phone, looking half-asleep, but when he senses me, he shakes himself awake.
Eyes bulging, he loses his grip on his phone, and it falls to the counter with a clatter. I lift one brow and stare at him as I set the ice cream down.
“You—you’re Noah Hutton. Oh, my God. You’re Noah Hutton. I love your music, dude. Like seriously, so much. Holy shit,” he rambles, his fingers flying out of sight as things begin to rattle to the side of the till. When he shoves a pen and blank piece of receipt paper toward me with shaky hands a beat later, he adds, “Can you sign this for me? Please. My friends aren’t going to believe this.”
I keep my expression steady as I take the pen and paper from him. “Name?”
He blanches. “Shit. Right. My name’s Sheldon.”
“Okay.” I sign the paper and set the pen on top of it before sliding it across the counter.
Snatching it up, he clutches the paper to his chest. “Thank you. I know you must get this a lot, but you’re so talented, dude. I’m a huge fan. I tried to get tickets to your next show here, but it sold out too fast. Are you adding another Toronto date?”
My skin prickles with discomfort. It’s not the kid’s fault. This is all me. I’m not built for these situations. Never know what to say. Compliments should make me feel good. But from strangers, they make me itch, desperate to abandon the conversation.
“Thank you,” I croak. My neck grows hot. “Just one show currently. I can bring up adding a second to my manager.”
His face lights up. “Yes!”
I swipe a hand across my neck, finding it wet with sweat. “Can I pay for this now?”
“Oh! Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. It’s not every day you get to meet one of your favourite artists, you know?”
I don’t know. “It’s okay.”
He eyes the two tubs of ice cream. “Which one is for you?”
“Are you planning on telling the world my favourite flavour of ice cream?”
His laugh reminds me of my brother’s. “No. I just assume one is yours and one is for Tinsley, right?”
