Curious Georgia |✔

•19 - Curiously Disappeared•

  I take two daring steps closer to the couch. He doesn't see my phone, and I hope to God it stays that way. I just have to grab it and go.

  "Look, Dad, I'm sorry. But you gave me no choice. I was afraid to come home because you were there. And teachers were getting suspicious with me limping into class almost every morning. What else was I supposed to do?"

  He shrugs his shoulders. "You have a point."

  I shrug too. "Do you want something to eat? Mom made lasagna," I ask. I just need him to move away from the couch.

  Jeff nods, thank God. And he goes into the kitchen. I trail behind him, not forgetting to get my phone off the couch and send a quick text to Adam.

Me: Get over here. Pronto.

  I rush to send the text and shove the phone into my back pocket. Jeff stalks around my kitchen, taking in the old and the new features. Pausing at the pictures from many years ago, and the pictures from a few months ago.

  He points to one of the new pictures. It's one of me sitting on one of the lower branches of my tree. "What's the story to this one?" he asks.

  "I had a bad day at school, and I had been out in the forest for hours. Mom had come home early that day and searched everywhere for me. And when she found me there, she took a picture."

  Jeff nods and moves on to the next picture. I pull the lasagna out of the fridge and heat up Jeff's plate first. He doesn't have a high tolerance for waiting. While we wait, there's a knock on the door. One of his eyebrows arch, as if to ask Why now?  and say You've ruined my plans. I give him his plate.

  "Excuse me," I say, and I do a mental victory dance on my way to the door.

  "Monkey, what's wrong?" Adam whispers, almost as if he knows my dad is sitting in my kitchen eating my mom's lasagna. I open the door without a word, though. And I lace his fingers between mine and let the man in the kitchen explain himself.

  Jeff's head perks up as soon as we walk in, and I grab my plate of lasagna and give it to Adam. We take a seat next to each other and across the table from my dad. He doesn't look too pleased.

  "So, G," he asks, "who is this?" 

  "Of course," I say. "Adam, this boy here is my father." Adam's eyes widen a fraction, and one of Jeff's eyes twitch.

  Boy.

He had it coming, but I didn't mean to spite him (okay, maybe just a little bit), but it was to show what would happen next. To hint to Adam that I would oh-so-desperately love to get out of this house.

  "Jeff, this is Adam." 

  And even though Adam knows what Jeff's done in the past, he reaches to shake his hand. Dad stares at it for a second, as if Adam has done something in his past. He shakes Adam's hand anyway. And I release the breath I didn't know I was holding. 

  "So, Jeff," I say. He bites his bottom lip. He is so pissed. "It was such a pleasure for you to make another unannounced appearance today, but you really should be going." The bites that he takes of his lasagna are slow... It's terrifying to say the least.

  "I guess you're right," he agrees. My eyebrows raise in surprise. Is he kidding? "I should have called. I'll show myself out."

  Jeff slams his fork and knife on the table and slams the front door louder when he leaves. I flinch, but my shoulders relax when I hear his engine rev.

  Adam's arms are around me in a second. "You're insane."

  "He was getting on my nerves," I retort.

  He chuckles. "You didn't have to embarrass him in front of me."

  "And he didn't have to beat me everytime he was drunk and angry. We can't all be winners." And Adam's smile disappears. "Sorry."

  He nods. "No, I understand." He intertwines our fingers again. "To the tree?"

  I shake my head. "How about we go upstairs today? I'm tired."

  "Upstairs?"

  Upstairs?

  I can do that, right? I can take him upstairs?

  "Are you sure?" he asks. I mean, why wouldn't I be sure? I love Adam. He loves me. And all we're doing is going to my room...

*~*~*~*

  What do you do when a guy is in your room? I didn't want to make the inevitable obvious, the fact that everything could happen.

  "It's messier than I thought it would be," he laughs.

  I blush. I didn't bother making up my bed or putting all the books on my desk back on the bookshelf after I was done reading them. And last night I didn't care enough to put my clothes in the hamper.

  I bring my hands to my face to try somehow disappear from my room. "I wasn't expecting to have anyone in here."

  He grabs my hands from my face. "It's alright. It's look better than mine. I can't even find my bed under all the laundry I haven't done."

  I laugh and push him away. "That's so gross. You could be wearing the same shirt you wore on Monday."

  He laughs with me and pulls me into a hug, his chin resting on my head. "So?" he says, knowing neither of us actually care. I shrug and breathe him in. I don't think I'd ever want to be anywhere else.

  Adam kisses my forehead, then my nose, and then (finally) my lips.

  And the world as I know it disappears completely.