Between the Lines

- 13 -

13

Kendal

It’s almost nine when I push the button that opens the door to my spot in the three-car garage, but the rest of the cavernous space is empty. Not that this surprises me.

I close the garage and head inside, shoving my keys in my backpack instead of walking all the way to the row of hooks hanging up in the mud room, and head to the kitchen, because I’m starving.

After that whole thing at school this afternoon, I just needed to clear my head, so I not only went into work early, but I stayed an hour afterward to do my own workout. It helped a lot with the tension – but not eating dinner anywhere in there was probably not the best plan.

Inside the refrigerator is a whole plate of leftover salad and chicken, which makes me happy because I’m not in the mood to hang out in the kitchen right now, so I grab the dish and carry it upstairs. It’s just in time, because almost as soon as I set the plate down on the desk next to my laptop, I hear the garage door open again.

I wait for a minute, listening, but the footsteps stay downstairs, so I know it’s her. She never comes up here – I’m not even sure she remembers this part of the house exists. I shove a bite of chicken into my mouth and open up Facebook on the computer.

The first thing I see is that two minutes ago, Kyle uploaded pictures from his grandmother’s birthday dinner, which feels like it’s aimed at me, because he never posts anything except football pictures and dirty jokes that he sets so his mom doesn’t see them.

As I glare at the pictures I see her name appear – Madison is liking the pictures, right at this moment. Not just the whole post, either, but each individual photo. Because I can’t help myself, I click on her name.

We’re not friends on here, not anymore, anyway, so I can’t see much – just a picture of her making out with Keegan Wilkins at homecoming last year and her current profile pic where she’s wearing a grin that makes me want to knock her shiny white teeth out. I don’t even know why she bothers me so much.

I really, really should close the computer and open up my homework, but I don’t. Instead, for reasons that don’t make sense even to me, I type Braden’s name in the search bar, picturing his reaction when I tell him that my first instinct is to type Bryan.

Wait a minute. Why would I even tell him that I searched his name on Facebook? And why am I imagining that feigned look of hurt on his face before he shoots me back an equally witty retort? I don’t even know him.

Before I can follow this disturbing train of thought any further, I close the computer without even inspecting his profile. Just as I do, my phone buzzes, nearly making me injure myself on the underside of a desk for the second time today.

I’m not usually like this, I swear.

Oh, who am I kidding? Yes I am.

Before I can even dig the phone out of my bag, it buzzes again. Someone’s impatient.

Looking at the screen confuses me for a minute. There are two messages, one from a number I don’t recognize and another from the name that makes my stomach twist and flip in ways I’m not sure it should.

I sigh and open the message from Kyle.

Kyle: Hey Kendal RU home from work yet?

For a second, the only thing I can think about is how much it annoys me when he uses text-speak. I’ve told him this. The phone types words by itself now; we’re not in elementary school with those old phones anymore.