I gulped down some water and then glanced up to the entrance of the cafeteria where windows spanned from the floor to the ceiling. I spotted Lilah walking through a small crowd of students with her mom's book in her hand. She seemed intent on heading for the school doors, which meant she was going to the nature center that day.
“Dude. Stop stalking her and focus. I just called your name like four times,” Connor said, throwing a French fry in my direction. I shot him a warning glare. I'd been an ass lately, but there was really no way around it. With everything going on, I was lucky to get through the day without blowing up on somebody.
“I'm listening,” I said, resisting the urge to look back at Lilah.
She’d switched groups in physics, which meant those fleeting moments of spotting her around school were the only thing I had to sustain me while I waited for her.
“We were just talking about renting a spaceship and flying to the moon after school.”
“Sounds good,” I said as I tried to catch one last glimpse of her before she disappeared outside.
“Dude! I knew you weren’t listening.”
I flinched as a handful of fries hit me in the face.
…
Later that night I walked into my house after practice, sore and tired. I needed to shower, cook some kind of dinner for my dad, and then finish my homework. Finals were coming up and my AP tests loomed.
I sat my bag down by the door and then straightened up as I caught of a whiff of something in the air. Garlic.
“Dad?” I called out as I walked down our main hallway toward the kitchen. The light was on, and as I got closer I could hear pots and pans shuffling around on the stove. When I turned the corner into the kitchen, I paused. My father was standing at the stove with headphones on, mixing some kind of sauce.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him cook.
I walked up and patted his shoulder so he'd know I was there. He turned and pulled out one of the headphones.
“Oh, hey, I wasn't expecting you back for a little while. I would have had this finished already,” he said, gesturing to the food.
“No worries, I still need to shower.”
He nodded, shifting his eyes back to the chicken. “Okay, well yeah, the food will be ready when you're done.”
“Do you need any help?” I offered, pointing to his casted arm. He seemed to have managed just fine so far, but I didn't want him to push himself too much.
He glanced down at his arm with a frown and then shook his head. “I've got it.”
I nodded slowly, assessing the stove once more before turning and heading up to shower. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. My dad hadn't touched a bottle in two and a half weeks, he was keeping the house clean, cooking dinner, and earlier that morning as I’d left for school, I’d heard him on the phone with a customer from the repair shop.
I tried not to think too much into it. Instead, I took the stairs two at a time and focused on everything I had to get done for school.
Chapter Sixty-One
Lilah
I took a small bite of my salad, feeling my dad’s stare boring into the side of my head.
“Do I have something on my face?” I asked, sliding my gaze to him. We were eating dinner by ourselves that night and it felt weird without Chase there.
My dad’s brows shot up, and he shook his head before taking a bite of his turkey sandwich. Nice try.
“You're not going to tell me?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes on his sandwich and then shrugged. “For the past few weeks, you've been quiet like you used to be when Chase first moved in.”
I thought about his observation for a moment, wondering if he was right. “It's a different kind of quiet.”
“Oh really? How so?” he asked with a small smile.
I picked at my sandwich. “I'm not sad like I was then. I'm just…” I paused, trying to clear up my thoughts. “Figuring a few things out.”
He chewed his bite before asking, “About Chase?”
I shrugged.
“You know, I really like the kid. It's more fun with him in the house, and I didn’t want to admit it, but he makes better pancakes than me.”
I smiled. “Even if we started dating again, he wouldn't move back in. He's taking care of his dad,” I pointed out.
He frowned. “True. Do whatever you want then.”
I laughed.
“He's in love with you though. You know that, right?”
I nodded, eyeing my food. I knew.
“All right, all right. I’ll change the subject. How do you want to celebrate your birthday next week?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
Every year my birthday marked the end of spring. Growing up I had loved the idea of being a spring baby. After all, spring was supposed to be my season. My mother had named me Lilah Rose to commemorate that fact. When I was young, I’d count down the days to my birthday with mixed feelings. I’d want the cake and the presents, but I didn’t want the season to end.
However, for the last two years, my birthday had served as a reminder that I’ve survived another spring, that the struggle would soon end.
“Can I take a rain check?” I asked with a simple smile.