"This is what she had become."
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Cleopatra Banks' last week in the small town of New Chelsea is nothing like she would have imagined it, but nothing could have prepared her for the stinging betrayal she's faced with and suddenly the prospect of...
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I only go back downstairs to grab my phone and to eat, not bothering with any form of conversation with anyone because I'm more on edge today than I should be.
Conversation throughout dinner is also stilted. Dad still doesn't think he said anything wrong and mom's not talking to him. Ruby's not really taking sides. She's not bothered. Her days involve casually going to the soccer field, going on play dates, learning the alphabet and feeding her stuffed toys. She's six.
She doesn't have to worry about careers and jobs, relationships and marriage? Who put that idea in my dad's head anyway? And why does he think there's something going on between me and Ethan?
I wish I were six all over again.
I spend the majority of dinner burning a hole through the side of his head with my imaginary laser vision. I'm out of the dining room as soon as I've emptied my plate, throwing a random "goodnight" to whoever will catch it.
I text Lexi as soon as I get back up to my room. She tells me she's sleepy and that we should talk tomorrow instead.
I tell her goodnight and put my phone on the bedside table but quickly take it up again to check if there's been any text from Ethan.
Nothing.
I can't even begin to understand why I'm so worried about him.
***
My phone blares so loudly and incessantly that I nearly jump out of my bed because of the jarring sound.
I scramble all over the place until I find it lying on my floor almost halfway under my bed. My heart beat picks up as though it weren't erratic enough when I see who's calling at such a late hour. There's no way I'm imagining all this.
"Ethan?" I ask, my voice a groggy, sleepy whisper.
"Uh hey," he replies. His voice sounds strange over the phone. I let out an involuntary chuckle. "Do you have any idea what time it is? I'm trying to sleep over here," I say.
"Were you sleeping?"
"No, I went Zebra hunting," I reply. "Oh I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"
"I'm wide awake now so you're going to have to tell me what it is you're calling about," I chuckle into the line.
He clears his throat, "I'm outside," he says and a momentary pause follows. It takes a while for the words to finally register in my brain.
"Oh, outside outside," I say, feeling quite giddy and relieved that he's back home. He chuckles lightly. "Yeah. I'm parked outside, let's go somewhere," he adds on after a short pause.
Again it takes a while for his words to register. He must have smoked something. "I don't smoke," he says, confused. Of course I said the words out loud. Couldn't he have called at a time when my mental processing wasn't so slow?
