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“Too many.” The answer comes easily.
She sighs. “I just wish you could find your happy.”
Immediately, Fallon’s face flashes into my mind. I’m about to reply back when she says to someone helping her pack—most likely our brother, “Put that one in the pile for Fallon so I can mail it to her.”
My brows snap together when I realize I haven’t received a single message from the little witch. Casually, I ask, “How is she doing?”
“I assume fine. Why?”
“Just curious,” I try to fob off the question.
Paige unknowingly becoming a fountain of information. “Helen didn’t say anything before she moved and Austyn hasn’t said anything about her being unhappy since Fallon transferred schools.”
What? Moved? New school? Instead of verbally vomiting those questions and being subject to an interrogation, I manage, “That’s good to hear.”
“It really is. Listen, I have to go. Jess and I have plans in a couple of hours. Why don’t you join us?” Her excitement is practically palpable and I want to bask in her happiness—after I find out what the fuck happened to Fallon.
“Sounds good. Text me where to meet you.”
“Talk soon.” My sister disconnects the call.
Immediately after ending the call, I open my text string with Fallon. My heart drops when I realize I haven’t texted her in close to two months. The last thing she sent me was a text:
Fallon: I have some pretty big news to share. You around?
My stomach churns when I realize I didn’t respond. Not only that, but I know I deliberately ignored her incoming message because I was on a date with another woman in another futile attempt to forget what Fallon made me feel. It went nowhere—none of them ever do. It’s a self-flagellation, a torture I submit to because I can’t have what I want—a woman I friend zoned because of her age.
Even then, I’ve been a shitty one at best. I have no idea what’s going on in Fallon’s life and it’s my own fucking fault. My fingers text before my brain can catch up.
Ethan:
Are you there?
Ethan:
Where are you?
Ethan:
I heard you left school? What the fuck happened?
Ethan:
Fallon?
Ethan:
Is everything okay with your Mom? With you?
Ethan:
I know I owe you a huge apology for ghosting you.
Ethan:
Are you ignoring me, witch?
An hour later and there’s still no response. Frustrated, I yank my laptop from my bag and start hunting her without a single qualm about invading her privacy. Most people would be scared if they knew how easy it is to be traced online using simple technology—let alone the shit I know how to do. With a few simple keystrokes, I get my answers, but I’m dumbfounded by what’s on my screen.