what we do best

part seven

I wake up in Tristan's bed with his body cocooned around mine. I reach for my phone on the bedside table. It's nearly nine in the morning. And I have seven missed calls.

I wriggle myself out from Tristan's grasp and go to the bathroom to listen to the voicemails.

They're all from my house phone. Almost all of them I can't understand. The last one is made up of muffled sobs from Zoey, and I can't make out any words.

Fuck.

I nearly run right into Tristan coming to bring me my freshly dried clothes. I push past him and hastily throw my shoes and jeans on. I keep my eyes trained on the ground ahead of me, getting home is the only thing I can think of.

"Woah, woah. What's wrong?" Tris grabs me by my shoulders before I can leave his bedroom.

"Zoey. I have to get home," I brush a tear from my cheek before it can reach my chin.

"Wait. Let me come with you."

+++

I walk quickly through the cool morning air with Tristan only a few steps behind me. I avoid saying much for fear of spontaneously crying. Tristan doesn't ask any questions.

Zoey is on the porch when I reach the house. I don't know how long she'd been crying. I kneel beside her and take her face in my hands. She throws her arms around me and cries out words I can't understand.

"Okay, okay. What happened, Zoey?" I rub her back and hold her close.

"I got home from my sleepover," Zoey chokes out in between sobs. "And you weren't home. And Dad wasn't home. I was all alone."

Tristan is on the other side of her, holding her hand. I watch as he runs his thumb over her knuckles.

"Oh, Zoey. I didn't think you would be home until later. How did you get home?" I wipe tears from her cheeks. She wipes tears from mine.

"Leah's mom drove me. Leah had soccer practice and I couldn't stay longer," Zoey's breathing steadies. "The door was unlocked so I just went inside."

"And Dad didn't leave a note or anything?" I can feel heat rising to my cheeks. She shakes her head.

"Where were you?" Zoey sounds as if she'd been betrayed. I suppose she had.

"I slept over at Tristan's house. I'm sorry, I should've tried to call you," I pull her in again. From out of the corner of my eye, I see tears drip down Tristan's cheeks. "Let's go inside."

Tristan turns to walk down the porch steps, but Zoey tugs his hand. "Stay."

Zoey and Tris distract each other by talking about the monstrosities of the fourth grade and how the cancellation of the most recent Netflix show was absolutely absurd. I busy myself cleaning up empty bottles and cigarette butts left littered on the kitchen counter.

"What do you guys want for breakfast?" I call to the living room, sifting through piles of near-expired pancake mix and boxes of stale cereal.

"Pancakes!" Zoey pops up from the couch, pointing to the box of chocolate chip pancake mix I'd placed upon the counter. Her recent brush with abandonment and betrayal seem to have been forgotten.

"Pancakes sound good," Tristan strides into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I swat him with a dish towel.

Zoey watches us at the counter, eyes wide and mouth open. "You are dating! I called it."

"Happy, are you?" I tuck her hair behind her ear, ignoring her smug smile.

"Tristan, how come you never come over? Ollie, is that where you are all the time? With him?" Zoey spits rapid fire questions at the both of us. She's absolutely enamored.

Tristan lifts her up onto the kitchen counter and answers all her questions with a patience I never found fathomable. Having someone besides the two of us being intrigued in our relationship was kind of fun.

"I have a boyfriend, you know," Zoey whispers to Tris, but I hear her from the stove.

"You what?" I turn away from the pancakes for a split second to point an accusing spatula at her.

"His name's Jack. He's tall and he gave me the homework answers. That makes him my boyfriend," Zoey explains.

"That makes perfect sense," Tristan laughs, his dimple deepening.

"You're tall. Did you give Ollie homework answers? Is that why you're dating?" Zoey gasps.

"Not exactly. We're dating for many different reasons," Tristan winks at me before turning back to Zoey. I pretend not to hear him. "This is probably gonna sound gross, but I think your brother is pretty cute. He's sweet and he's caring. He gives good hugs. I like him a lot."

"Ew! Jack and I hugged once. It was okay. I don't want to kiss him though," Zoey pretends to gag herself at the thought of kissing her fourth-grade boyfriend.

"That's okay. You don't have to kiss him," Tris brings Zoey down from the counter and sits down in front of the plates of pancakes I've set for them.

"Do you and Ollie kiss?" Zoey seems to have the sudden realization that her older brother and his boyfriend are in a relationship. And people in relationships kiss.

"I would never kiss him! Gross!" I shove a forkful of pancakes into Tristan's mouth before he can respond. He gives me an endearing smile and bumps his foot against mine. I swear, this boy.

The front door unlatches that night, and I can feel Zoey physically cringe at the noise. The unforgettable sound of the many late nights your father comes stumbling back into your life is one that ingrains itself in you. I want to push Zoey into her room and tell her to hold her hands over her ears so she won't have to hear what will inevitably occur in the living room.

But I hold her next to me and let the wafting scent of alcohol fall over us as my father makes his way to the couch. His eyes glaze over us as if we were specs of dust fading in and out of his vision. With Zoey at my side, I make my way over to him, something I never would have willingly done.

"Don't leave her alone again," I lean in close to his unshaven face, scanning his eyes for any sense of remorse.

I recognize his shift in body language. A movement that lets me know my hands should be blocking my face for what may come. But my hands are holding Zoey's. And Dad sees our hands locked together. He sees Zoey there, a trembling little girl in a big world. She's scared of the man who was supposed to protect her the most.

Dad gives a grunt and falls back onto the couch.

Zoey sleeps in my room that night.