troubled | e.d.

seventeen

tessa

the dress is probably my favorite (and only) good thing of the night.

it's black with a low v neck, and beautiful ruffled short sleeves. i got it last summer when i was shopping with my mom, and i haven't had much use for it since then.

pair it with some steve madden sandals, a couple things of jewelry, and bam— it's a perfect summer evening dress.

my dad said the neckline was too low. i told him to keep his opinions for sunday morning mass.

the dim lights, noisy chatter, and clinking glasses show that the restaurant is too fancy for me to do anything but sit there and nod, which just about sends me over the edge.

daryl's sons, marcus and luther, sit beside me, clearly feeling the same way. luther has been sneaking his phone under the table every couple of minutes, and marcus and i have been playing secret tic tac toe on the condensation of his water glass.

the short man in a grey suit sure talks louder than he looks like he could. his face is set into a very stoney expression, and his wife and three kids beside him carry similar ones.

daryl and my dad have been engaging in boring conversation with him ever since we got here, and i can really only pick out a couple legal terms that i understand. the rest is too confusing, so i don't even bother anymore.

my phone buzzes under my leg, and i check to see if anyone is looking before pulling it out and turning it on.

ethan d: surviving?

he remembered.

me: hardly.
me: the food here looks like it could feed a rat and that's it. desperately in need of a taco bell burrito.

ethan d: send me your location and come up with an excuse to leave

me: wait rlly??

ethan d: deadass.

the deadass with the period at the end sure convinces me enough, and i hide my phone before waiting until a gap in the conversation to tug on my dad's arm and whisper in his ear.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"i'm having..." i desperately try to think of something that would warrant enough concern to leave, and there's no possible way he could ask any questions.

"lady issues," i finally decide on.

"are you okay?"

"i'm fine, i just need to go home. i can call a car."

"tessa—" he sighs.

"dad, i need to go," i reiterate with fake urgency.

"do you want me to call mary-anne to get you? i don't know how i feel about you being alone in a uber on a friday night."

"i'll be fine," i roll my eyes. "i just need to leave."

he struggles for a moment before finally nodding. i kiss his cheek gratefully and stands up, pushing in my chair while trying not to draw too much attention to myself.