Chapter Nineteen

Breakfast at Lauren's differs greatly than at my uncle's house other than the fact that I didn't sleep here either. Her house is cozy and welcoming and I don't have to worry about Kyson trying to cop a feel under the table. Lauren's mom is as bubbly as she is round. I don't think I've ever met anyone as sweet as she is. I've barely sat down and she's greeting me with a plate piled high with pancakes and bacon. I can't help but notice the pictures on their fridge as I dig in. Most of them are of Lauren with her brothers and sisters, along with various drawings and awards they've brought home from school. She's the oldest of seven.

I can't wrap my mind around having so many kids.

Lauren's youngest sister slides into a chair next to me at the table, her hair still messy from sleep. She grins at me, grabbing a piece of bacon from my plate.

"Hey now." Her mom taps her hands lightly. "You'll get your own."

"It's fine."

"Enjoying your stay, or are you ready to run home screaming from being terrorized by my siblings?" Lauren asks, with a bit of syrup dripping down her chin.

"It's different, but in a good way. I swear," I reply, cutting into my pancakes and taking a big bite. "These are so good."

Lauren smirks, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Mom's a superb cook. She always wanted to open her own bakery, but her and my dad couldn't keep their hands off one another and she traded that dream for being a stay-at-home mom.

Her mom smiles, her pride in her family obvious.

"What about you, Dahlia? What do your parents do?" her mom questions having no way of knowing the circumstances of my home life.

My stomach drops, but I've got to get used to this reality. "Well, my birth mom left when I was younger, and my father passed away. My Uncle John and his wife, Helen, were kind enough to take me in."

"Oh dear, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

She busies herself cleaning up and Lauren shoots me a sympathetic smile.

There's silence for a while as we both focus on devouring our breakfast before the rest of her siblings enter the room and chaos ensues as her brothers argue over who can eat more pancakes and who will get the last piece of bacon.

We go back up to her room once food starts flying across the table. It doesn't take long for her to bring up everything that happened last night at the party.

"So now that you've slept on things," Lauren begins, her tone serious, "what are you thinking about Gauge?"

I groan and flop backwards on her bed. "No boy talk. It's way too early." The last thing I want to do right now is dissect what Gauge's intentions are or what I'm going to do about Kyson.

Thankfully, she doesn't press any further on the subject, and we discuss her plans for college and my lack of them. She's been saving the small amount of revenue the school gossip site generates toward her college fund, hoping it will be enough to supplement what she doesn't receive in scholarships and loans. Her going to college is a big deal not only for her but for her parents as they never attended themselves. Lauren's dad owns his own construction business, but with seven kids, things are stretched thin. Now that all her siblings are in school, her mom wants to at least get a part-time job.

As much fun as I'm having hanging out with her family, I need to get back to my own life. I can't hide away here forever, though I'm not sure anyone would care if I tried. If Helen opened my text last night she didn't reply.

Lauren drops me at home, and I have my answer when I come in.

"Oh, there you are. I was going to make breakfast, but you weren't in your room, and I have no idea where my son disappeared to." She sips her coffee.

"No worries. I already ate at Lauren's. I stayed over last night."

"It must have slipped my mind." She waves her hand in a dismissive fashion.

"Is Uncle John around?"

"He took his mother to church."

"Do you know when he'll be back? I was hoping to go looking for a car."

"I'm not sure. Sundays are always an all-day ordeal with Joanne." She rolls her eyes, and I can sympathize.

My father was never a fan of his stepmother, and I've only met her a handful of times when we'd come for our visits in the summer. I don't remember much about her, but she was always snippy, and my father could never wait to get away from her.

"He has to have her back to the home by six."

"Gotcha. Maybe one day after school or something."

She takes another big gulp from her drink, and I notice this glossy look in her eyes that has me wondering if there's something other than the coffee she's sipping on.

What else isn't Kyson telling me about his home life?

About John and Helen?

The rest of the day is a blur, filled with mundane Sunday activities like cleaning my room and the bathroom I share with Kyson, catching up on homework, lounging around, and ignoring the tight sensation in my gut whenever Matt and how we ended pops into my mind. Uncle John finally arrives home around six-thirty, looking as if he's just completed a triathlon or something. His eyes are tired, shoulders slumping under the weight of the day. It makes me wonder what exactly transpires during those long Sunday visits. After what Kyson shared with me, I can't help but think he's probably been with his other woman.

I don't bother asking him to take me to browse for a car. Waiting a little longer won't change anything.

Dinner is delivered takeout from a chain restaurant. The pork roast is as dry as the conversation at the table. Kyson took his food to his room, leaving me on my own with his parents, who seem to want to converse with each other as about as much as I wish to watch paint dry. Though watching paint could prove more exciting.

The silence stretches until I've had enough and excuse myself to my room as well.

After showering and laying out my clothes for tomorrow, I slip into bed and watch TikTok clips until I pass out.

In the middle of the night, the familiar dip of Kyson sliding into my bed awakens me, but I pretend not to know he's there. I'm not ready to forgive him. He presses his lips to the back of my neck, spooning me, forming a cocoon around me.

I hate that I sleep better with him. That he seems to be able to slay the demons who haunt my dreams.

The next morning, I get up early to do some meditating in the backyard, finding Kyson long gone from my room. Meditating is a habit I've developed over the years, as a way for me to clear my thoughts and prepare for the day ahead. I've not been doing it since my arrival here. I need to get back into the routine. The crisp morning air hits my face as I step outside, the quiet stillness creating a perfect backdrop for my morning ritual.

I pop in my earbuds and try to ignore the sensation of being watched creeping over me. It's probably Kyson staring at me from his bedroom window, plotting a new way to disrupt my life and make me miserable.

The rest of the next few weeks go by in much the same way–school, yoga, homework, lonely dinners, restless sleep except for the nights Kyson slips into my bed. It feels like I am floating through life on autopilot. I try not to think about Matt or the fact that neither of us has reached out to the other. Kyson, oddly enough, has been keeping his distance other than the nights we share my bed. I continue to pretend I don't know he's there every time he presses his lips to the back of my neck and curls his body around mine.

Lauren has been going on dates with Ray. She says thanks to my association with Kyson, I've boosted her rating on the social scale.

Most of my friends back home are busy enjoying the thrills and frills of their senior year. Then there's me, merely surviving. But Gauge has been a surprising yet welcome distraction through it all. Nothing serious. We've exchanged a few random text messages. He flirts and I dodge his advances, both at school and through our chats.

By Friday, I am feeling restless. Even my daily yoga sessions have failed to alleviate the sense of discontent gnawing at me. After school, I decide to go for a long walk around town, alone. It feels good somehow, to be away from everyone. Away from the usual humdrum of Uncle John's house, where no one talks to each other. Away from Kyson and his schemes. Away from Lauren and her constant chatter about Ray. Away from Gauge and his flirtatious advances. Away from the distance the length of an ocean that seems to stretch between Matt and me.

As though he knows I'm thinking of him as I'm browsing the shelves of the bookstore in need of an escape from reality, he calls me.

For once since I arrived here, I'm happy to answer. I've missed his checking in terribly.

"Hey."

"Hi. Do you have a minute to talk?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I want you to hear it from me first."

My belly does a dip and my heart squeezes in my chest. "Okay," I hedge, unsure if I want him to continue.

"I'm dating," he pauses and when I don't respond he continues, "nothing serious. I'm playing the field. I just didn't want you to see photos or for someone from back home to tell you."

"That's…kind of you. I appreciate you calling." My heart splinters at the thought of him with other girls, even though it isn't fair of me.

"That's me. Mr. Thoughtful." He chuckles and I smile faintly, though he can't see my reaction to his lame joke. "Take care of yourself, Dahls."

"You too," I mutter under my breath, but he's already ended the call.

I grab a random fantasy romance novel off the shelf and head to the cash register to checkout. A shadow falls across the window as I wait to pay, and I look over to see Gauge smiling at me.

I pay for my book and find him waiting outside of the door for me, leaning casually with one foot resting against the brick building.

"Fancy meeting you here." He grins, trying to play things cool.

"Well, we do live in the same town and attend the same school," I remind him. "Shouldn't you be loading up on the bus for the game?" Tonight's game is at some school like three hours away. I only know this due to Lauren asking me to ride with her to cover it for the school's website and social media. Last week was senior night and homecoming. I skipped going to the dance. Lauren went with Ray. I didn't ask if Kyson took Britney, but if the pictures online are anything to go by he went stag.

"It's tomorrow."

"Oh. My bad." I must have zoned out when Lauren was going over the details.

"What are you up to tonight?"

"Big plans." I flash my hardback at him, and he turns his head sideways to read the title.

"Taken by the Fae Kings. Interesting choice."

My face reddens. "Um. I must have grabbed the wrong one."

"Hey." He holds his palms out. "I don't judge. My mother and my sister love smutty novels or, as I like to call it their reader corn." He grins bigger and I stare at my shoes, biting my bottom lip. "Don't be embarrassed." His finger glides along my cheek and under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. "Want to catch a movie or something?"

"Like a date?"

"Do you want it to be a date?"

"To be determined…" I trail off, unable to meet his gaze. "I think you're a niceish guy, but I also recently ended things with my boy–ex-boyfriend. It's too soon for me to even think about jumping into something else."

"Good things are worth waiting for. I can wait, Dahlia. Until then, we can be friends."

"Friends is good. Can I get a raincheck on the movie? I didn't eat lunch today so I could go for something greasy and bad for me."

"I've been told once or twice I can be bad for your health."

"Shut up before I change my mind about us being friends."

"So, it is a date." He loops his arm through mine, guiding me down the street toward a burger joint.

"Ha. No. Keep dreaming."