a plate for tate

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I woke up in my bed with my head tucked against someone's side. And I knew immediately that I was in my dad's arms. He was sprawled out next to me, snoring loudly and I couldn't help the little giggle that left me.

I know I am too old to be laying with my dad but he always reminded me of safety and consistency. Whenever I saw my mom, it always left me feeling like shit. Like I wasn't enough to make her stay but my dad made me feel worth it. He was always there. And yes, I know it was his responsibility, but it was my mom's responsibility too and she wanted nothing to do with me.

He's tired at the sound of me giggling and his eyes opened slowly. A slow smile began to grace his lips. "Hey Nemo. How ya feeling?" He asked.

I shrugged and looked up at him. "I feel weird." I said. I flipped over to my back and I stared up at the ceiling. I felt so very drained. But yet so light. Like every single bit of weight that was on my shoulders were completely lifted.

"What do you mean?" He asked and he did the same as me. Turning on his back and facing the ceiling.

" You know when people say after confronting there demons they feel alot better. I get it now. Don't get me wrong, imma still have my issues but I feel do much lighter now." I said.

He hummed to himself. "I get it. I'm hoping I'll get there one day. I still have a lot of buttons to go through with your mother." My dad said and I completely understood. He was put through a lot more shit than I was seen it came to mom.

"Do you still love her?" I asked him.

The silence between us lingered for a bit. His silence was enough of an answer but I was still curious, so I waited for his response. He took a deep breath. "I will always have love for her but it will never be the way it used to be. I don't think I could ever BE in love with her again." He said, and I knew he was telling the truth.

We stayed like that for a while, in a comfortable silence. An hour later my bad began to get out of the bed, began to walk toward the door, but before he left he looked back to me. "Take a day or two off of school. And make sure you call and text everybody. Especially, Tate and Tyler. Just to let them know you're ok."

I nodded.

"Alrighty. Imma go downstairs and make breakfast. Take your time to get home." He said and I nodded again. He shut the door behind him and I returned my gaze back to the ceiling. I stayed like that for only a little while before I grabbed my phone and began to call or text my friends and family.

I texted Mike and Kyle first. Of course they didn't respond til awhile later but there answers were short and sweet. They didn't ask any questions and just a quick 'happy you ok' and kept it pushing. Now Rebecca and Tim were different story. They peppered me with questions, and asked if they needed to come over and basically mother henned me til I was ready to scream my head off.

Then I called Tyler. He was surprised I called. Usually it took me o day or two for me to talk to anyone else outside of my dad but I reassured him that this time wasn't like the other times. We basically redid the convo I had with my dad except for how he felt about my mom. I already knew how Tyler felt about her, and he'd rather swallow rocks then to deal with her more than he already has to.

Then my last call.

Time to call Tate......

As the phone rang I remembered the last few things he said to me. And I let those words fill my thoughts as I waited for him to answer the phone. He finally picked up the phone.

"Meloni?" His voice came out a little groggy and strained. And i realized it was a little early and probably woke everyone up. I hadn't even realized it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I can call you later." I said.

"I'm coming over." He said. And before I could protest, he hung up. I smile to myself a little. I called my dad, mostly cause I didn't feel like going downstairs.

"Yes?" My dad asked.

"You might want to make another plate. Tate said he was coming over." I said.

My dad laughed. "Ok. I'll make a plate for Tate." And I could feel my smile broaden.

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