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No text back? Not cool.
12
Charley
The door to my last class of the day opens just after our professor dismisses us. Echoes of students’ conversations bounce off the walls, and a pit forms in my stomach, hoping I won’t run into Cade Farmer.
Every time I check my phone, the text message he sent me sits there unread. A part of me wishes I responded before I got home because when I walked through the doors, shit hit the fan.
Food everywhere. Trash everywhere. The smell of spoiled, leftover chicken bones and ants in cups, dining on whatever sugary remnants left there.
My dad, asleep in front of the TV. The light from the screen illuminating his face. Dried-on food crusting in the corner of his lips.
I’ve never wanted to leave more than I did in that moment, standing in my house, studying my father in his own filth.
The reality of my situation hit me square in the face. I can’t even leave the house overnight. The constant texts. Thearranging of food delivery. Being with Cade was the only time I forgot. But it wasn’t real. None of it was.
I’m stuck in Warner. In that decaying house. With a man who has turned more animal than human.
My tired eyes itch from lack of sleep. I stayed up cleaning until the first morning rays of sun poked through the drawn blinds. Then I made breakfast for a silent father, cleaned up again, and now I’m here.
Trapped. Stuck on repeat.
“Hey, did you take notes?” the guy next to me asks.
I blink up at him. No one ever talks to me. No one. “Sorry, what?”
He looks sheepishly at the floor. “I fell asleep. I had a rough weekend studying for a test in my last class, and I couldn’t stay awake with all the droning.”
“Oh, um, yeah. I did, actually.”
“Do you mind if I read through them?”
“If you take a look at chapter six—the highlights at the end—that was basically what he talked about. He does that a lot,” I state.
“Chapter six? Yeah, cool. Thanks.” We walk to the door. “But I was kind of hoping?—”
“There you are,” a familiar voice says.
I peer up to find Cade leaning against the opposite wall, his foot propped up on the painted brick. He’s highlighted on each side by bulletin boards, a Warner University football jacket flung over his arm. He looks like he just stepped out of a collegiate magazine. I swear, his teeth even sparkle.
My stomach tightens just looking at him. Fear. Anxiety. And I can’t lie to myself, there’s a healthy dose of attraction there, too.
But all of that is overpowered by the shit show that is my life playing in the background of my psyche.
Cade’s gaze moves to the guy beside me, and his smile drops, replaced by thin lips and narrowed eyes. “Who’s this?”
My shoulders sag. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and I don’t know much about dating, but I’m pretty sure I’d know it if I was in a relationship. I shrug, walking into the hallway and taking a right without either of them by my side.
It isn’t long before footsteps hit the tile behind me, and I’d bet my sanity it was Cade. Lithe. Agile. He’s not running but keeps up with me easily.
“You hungry? Wanna get a late lunch?”
“Can’t,” I say, the word coming out only because of the guilt tugging at me. He’s not a bad guy. In fact, he’s the exact opposite.
“Busy? Like you were too busy to respond to my text?”
“I am, actually,” I say, my voice coming out choked. Who knows what kind of nonsense I’ll have to deal with when I get home. I don’t know if my father will be talking to me, or if I’ll wish he still wasn’t.