𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

Chapter 11

Millie

It's been two days since I talked to Finn and I'm still thinking about him. I shouldn't be. It's not like I know him very well. It's not as though this stupid charade we had going on was really making me feel any better. But I'm thinking about that last day in the car.

And thinking about how big a bitch I was.

It's obvious he needs the money. That's why he agreed with my stupid boyfriend idea. And I know his mom is dying. Dying. I could tell by the sound of his voice when he told me how much it affects him. It was the same way he spoke to me when he said he had no other choice. I'm assuming that means whatever money he's getting is somehow going to help his mom.

He's fighting for her—caring for her the way I wish my mom had cared about me.

The door opens and Andy walks inside. "Are you still moping? You're taking longer to get over this break-up than you did the first one!" She flops on my bed beside me. She's like that. Doesn't mind getting in someone's personal space and she acts like we're best friends or something.

"Want to talk about him?" she asks.

If only she knew. "No."

"You sure?" Her pink ponytail flies around as she turns.

"Yeah... I'm sure you want to hang out with your...girlfriend or something."

Andy looks like I've disappointed her. Welcome to the club, I want to tell her.

"One of these days, you're going to have to find someone to be real with, Millie."

I don't have time to reply to her. As she's walking out, my cell rings. I fumble with it, not sure who I'm expecting it to be, when I see it's my aunt.

"Hello."

"Hi, Millie. How are you?" There's a slight edge to her voice.

"I'm okay. What's wrong?"

"It's the weekend. I wanted to see if you'd come home. I thought we could spend some time together."

My heart speeds up. Her voice is off.

"Or I could come to you. We can get a room...hang out. How does that sound?"

It sounds like something is seriously wrong. I fight to swallow the ball in my throat.

"No...no. I'll come home. I need to get away anyway."

"Okay, sweetie... I love you."

"You, too."
I don't take the time to grab any clothes. I have some at home. Purse and cell in hand, I'm out the door.

Something's wrong. I know it to the marrow of my bones. My mind flips through everything bad: my aunt and uncle divorcing, someone's sick. I don't like any of the options that squeeze their way into my subconscious. Lily and Mark are steady. The only steady I've ever known.

It only takes me forty-five minutes to make the hour drive. I see the blinds move when I pull into the driveway. It makes my gut sink even farther. I don't know how I'm as calm as I am right now.

"That was fast," Aunt Lily plasters a fake smile on her face.

"What's wrong?"

My uncle steps out of the kitchen. He's the typical wealthy workaholic—always busy, yet he's here. Why is he here?

My cell slips out of my sweaty hand and hits the floor.

Aunt Lily tries to smile at me again, but she can't quite do it. Bending over she picks up my phone.