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“My girlfriend actually.”What?
“Lovely. Great. Yes, please pass on my number.”
I feel awful as her face pales and she becomes flustered. She was clearly coming on to me and…why did I say that? Dani isnotmy girlfriend. And yet, I don’t correct it. I like the way it sounds rolling off my tongue.
She doesn’t get my number, understandably, but still gives me hers. And when I meet Liam at the counter, a strange feeling sits in my stomach. While I have no intention of ever calling her, I still feel guilty for having the number in my phone so I delete it the second I’m out of the building.
My thoughts wander to Dani on the drive home, and as soon as I’ve dropped Liam off, I leave and call her from the car, instead of seeing Dad like I said I would.
“I hear I have you to thank for the trampoline park,” I say instead of a greeting.
“Ugh! He got you too? That place is awful.”
The obvious loathing in her voice cheers me up a little. I’m glad I’m not alone there.
“Tell me about it. I’m aching in places I’ve never hurt before.” I groan for added effect, but I’m not joking.
Dani hums, and I swear the sound vibrates through me. “I know what you mean. I definitely wanted a deep, deep massage after my session.”
I bite back another groan as I picture a different kind of deep massage and instead tell her I have no sympathy. Which is a lie.
“Well, I’m sorry.” She giggles and I chuckle along with her.
“That’s okay. I told him you can take him again next time.”
“Geez, thanks,” she says sarcastically. “Please don’t let that be tomorrow.”
My phone vibrates as we talk, signaling another call, but I ignore it and we chat for the rest of my drive home. There’s no mention of when we’re going to see each other again, if at all. And it’s probably because I’m supposed to make the first move, but for some reason, I hesitate. She needs processing time, and I don’t want to rush anything. But fuck, I like having her around and kissing her. I loved that.Kissing her? Ihavegone back to high school.As bad as it sounds, I can’t remember the last time I just kissed someone, other than Dani. And I kind of like that. But I wouldn’t say no to more.
When I get home, I see a voice message from Dad. He must have been the one calling. A sharp pang hits me because despite wanting to make amends, he never calls, so maybe it’s the right time for both of us. I shower and grab a quick dinner as the weight of the call hangs over me, and it’s not until I’m settled on the couch hours later that I finally listen.
“Hi Son. Your mom mentioned you wanted to see me this morning and you have no idea how disappointed I am that I wasn’t there. There’s so much I want to talk to you about. So much I should have already said, but wasn’t sure you were ready to hear. I love you so much, Logan, and I hate what this has done to us. I think it’s time we cleared the air. I just hope you’ll understand. Give me a call back. Or maybe come around tomorrow or Monday. I’ll be here. I miss you, Son. I’m sorry.”
I surf all morning Sunday and relax in the afternoon. Dad’s call remains on my mind the entire time. By Monday, I’ve made up my mind to go over after classes. I have to at least hear him out. We’ve all been hurting for too long.
My phone starts buzzing during my second session of the day, awarding me a death stare from my professor. He’s usually pretty chill about phones, but today, students are presenting their portfolio ideas, so it’s a matter of respect. I grimace and flip it over to silence it, just as it rings again.
Mom flashes across the screen, which is odd, considering she never calls me during the day.
With only fifteen minutes left of class, I’m about to switch it off when a message comes through.
Mom: Call me NOW!
Shit!What did I do?Collecting my things, I excuse myself and dart from the room, ignoring the looks I receive, dialing her number as I go.
She answers just as I step into the hallway.
“Oh, thank God. I need you to remain calm, but come to the hospital. Your father’s had a minor heart attack and—”
The world around me stops. “What? When? Mom, is he okay?”
“He’s on oxygen, but it looks like he’s okay,” she says, and while she doesn’t sound panicked anymore, there’s an edge to her tone. “Can you come?”
I’m already jogging to the exit before she even asks. “Of course. I’m on my way.”
Pushing out of the building's main doors, I slam into someone on my way past, and apologize profusely before continuing on my way.
Why didn’t I call him back?
