"Okay, there's something definitely different about you," Kal points out the next morning as I get into his car. "You look almost more... confident."
"That's because I am more confident," I agree, grinning from ear to ear. "Guess who was waiting for me yesterday after softball practice?"
"Bo Burnham?" He jokes.
I roll my eyes. "No. Brad!"
"Oh. Brad..." He mutters, backing out of my driveway. "How did he know you had practice?"
"Well, I mentioned before I'm in softball, and Brad said he was leaving and happened to see me playing." I shrug and add, "Anyway, he carried my duffel bag, and walked me to my car, and took me out for dinner!"
"Sounds fun."
"Course, it was just fast food, but the gesture's still sweet, isn't it?" I ask, looking over at my best friend for confirmation. "Guess what else happened?"
"He chews with his mouth open?" He answers with a grin, and I glare at him.
"No. On Monday, Brad came into the diner, and we were flirting—I think—and I gave him my number!" I cheer, almost too excited. "I gave Brad my number..." I sing, rocking side to side in the passenger seat.
Kal glances over. "You gave him your number?" He almost sounds disgusted.
"Yeah, I'm surprised, too." I pull down the visor and check my hair, flattening out the frizzes. I didn't take a shower this morning. "Well, not that surprised. I always make the first move."
"Did Brad even know you worked there? I mean, isn't that a little weird he just happens to show up at your job?" I hate when Kal pounds me with dumb, concerned questions. He's done this with every boyfriend I've had.
"Hey, Jackie's Shackie is a popular place to get food in town," I defend, but I don't know why. "So, it's merely coincidental."
Kal strums his fingers on the steering wheel as he waits on a red light. "Well, if you're happy."
"I am happy," I say, poking my cheeks as the smile grows on my face. "I haven't been this happy since..." I trail off in silence as the guilt eats me alive.
"Since when?" Kal repeats.
"Since my dad died," I whisper, pushing the visor up as I lean back in the seat. "Is that wrong? Am I a horrible person for feeling happy when he hasn't been gone that long?"
"Codi..." Kal reaches across and grabs my hand. "Your dad would want you to be happy. You have nothing to feel guilty about."
I frown. "I guess... Brad hasn't texted me at all," I point out, checking my phone. "Maybe it's nothing. He's probably busy."
"For the past two days?"
"You're right. I'll ask him about in Chemistry today. We're working on a new experiment; there'll be time to talk."
Kal chuckles. "Don't set his shirt on fire."
"Not funny. You promised to never bring that up again."
"It is funny!
I can't stop thinking about Brad and if I did something wrong to make him not text me. What's the whole point of giving someone your phone number if you're not going to use it? "I just don't get it. He had two days to text me. What if he lost my number? Or forgot?"
He parks. "I don't think he forgot."
"What makes you say that?"
"Brad's waiting for you." Kal points at the front gate where Brad's standing and he waves and jogs over.
YOU ARE READING
twisted ✔️ (being edited)
Mystery / ThrillerIt's been a week since Dad died. People won't stop reminding us about it. Every day someone new stops by with home cooked meals and empty handed condolences. I wish they would stop. Each time the wound closes, a hot burning knife rips it back open...
