Dear Diary,
"So... the wedding thing didn't go well?"
It was the first thing non work related that Calvin had said to me in days.
"What gave it away?" The restaurant is empty. I'm feeling sorry for myself behind the counter, head on my arms.
"Well a few things actually. One, you were supposed to come home tomorrow. Two, you look really depressed, and three... Claudia told me."
"Of course she did."
"Vanessa's a loser." He offers.
"No she's not." I can't help myself from sticking up for her.
"Come on. The chick has been ghosting you. Claudia said everyone was ignoring you and then Vanessa got mad at you. That's low."
"You're not comforting me."
"I'm just saying, I... understand."
"You've had a best friend break up with you in front of everyone?"
"No... Okay maybe I don't understand. I... feel compassion for you."
"Great. Thanks."
"Come on. Quit moping."
"No."
"If you need a couple days to... process, you can take some time off."
"I guess." I sigh.
"Gosh, I can't stand this." He sounds truly annoyed.
"Stand what?"
"Seeing you so... sad. Short sentences. I'm not used to you not firing back at me."
I only sigh.
"Hey." I start, "How come the bridge table was empty this morning?"
"What bridge table?"
"The table of people that come in for breakfast every day to protest the bridge demolition."
"They don't really need to meet anymore. They lost."
"Lost?"
"It's getting torn down." I think I see the smallest hint of sadness in his face.
"Really?" I perk up, and Calvin takes a step back.
"Yep." He's trying to hide his disappointment. I think as much from himself as from me.
"That's too bad. It was a nice bridge." He gives me that look again.
"It's old." He shrugs, looking away.
"You don't care? It seemed like you liked it."
He shakes his head no, pretending not to care about the topic, then walks away.
"Cal!"
He looks over his shoulder in the doorway.
"I think I am going to go home for a bit."
He nods, with a tight lipped grin, then continues on his way.
...
My room is dark when I wake up in my bed. My head is heavy the way it gets when I nap at a time my body isn't used to.
"Grandpa? Darla?" I call out into the living room. It's quiet and empty.
"Down here!" I hear Darla say from the basement.
"Where is grandpa?"
"Hotel. I don't know what you said to him. He hasn't gone to work there in the evening in a long time."
YOU ARE READING
That One Summer
Teen FictionJane was raised by her free spirited uncle, but when he moves to Paris she is forced to live with her grandpa for the summer in a small town where she finds romance and secrets to her past that she never knew were there.
