"Okay, come find me if you feel like talking about it later. Or we can go swimming?"
"Will do."
He leaves the kitchen, but the strangeness of the exchange lingers long after he's gone.
If I get this job, I will still help Benny with the movie night, which is a little over a week away. Everything is about ready, but I feel jittery knowing there's a possibility I might not be working with him again.
I'll miss Benny, and I'm trying not to jinx myself with the lucky hand I’ve been given, but I have a good feeling about this. I'm emotional that my time in Del Mar could be coming to an end.
Even if Theo's indifference is obvious, I end the evening feeling confident.
Theoreturnshomefromtherapy but still avoids me. I'm not upset he didn't want to hang out—it's a rather blurred line we are toeing, and we didn't establish any rules to throw off our parents. But I assumed wrong.
Either way, before closing my eyes to sleep, I open up my email to send the follow-up thank you letter to my potential new boss.
I’veneverbeentoa therapist before, let alone make recurring appointments for the future. Even though I told Amelia I like him, I’m hesitant to open up to a stranger. It'll take time for me to reveal the deep feelings floating around me with no tether.
I think with the necessary effort to put into this, I'll eventually be able to talk about the death of my father and everything that came with it. My mom moving on without me, the stepdad I haven't accepted, the stepsister I all but love, and my life that is so different from what I imagined it could be.
Amelia and I went up to our individual rooms and spent the evening alone behind closed doors. I'm avoiding her until we find out the good news tomorrow. Maybe my detached behavior isn't as obvious as I imagine, but if we hang out tonight, it'd be too difficult to hide. The reality lies in her decision to stay or go.
And whywouldshe stay? She has no clue how I feel, and I have nothing to offer her.
Around 10:00 p.m., my door creaks open.
No knock, no warning, but I see Amelia standing in my room.
I'm the one that usually sneaks into her bed in the middle of the night—she has a queen-sized mattress, after all—so seeing her here excites me.
"Amelia?" I mumble in the dark.
"I didn't get the job."
"What?" I peel back the top sheet and I'm at her side right away.
She's crying, her face shiny and wet in the sliver of moonlight reflecting in my dark room.
"You didn't? How do you know?"
"I went to send a thank you email, and I saw it sitting in my inbox. I never checked because I expected they'd call me tomorrow. But they already told me no."
"Oh, Amelia," I sigh, wrapping my arms around her lower waist while she nuzzles her face into the crook of my shoulder. She's racked with heaving sobs, and we're both unable to talk.
What would I say anyway? I'm so sorry? That won't make an ounce of difference for her, and who wants to hear another lie that something better might come along?
She's on the verge of hyperventilating, and I hold her tighter so she knows it's okay to crumble; I'll keep her upright for as long as she needs.
"Hey, sweetie," I begin as she catches her breath. "Let's go to sleep. We can handle this in the morning. Okay?"
She nods her head, oblivious to my term of endearment. Instead of letting her lead the way to her room, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to her bed.
Setting her down gently, she looks up to me as I cover her in her sheets. "Can you stay? Please?"
Bending down to wipe a fresh tear off her reddened cheek, I answer, "Of course. Whatever you need."
Ispentmostofthe night making sure Amelia was okay. It took her a while to calm down and finally succumb to sleep, but I was wide awake for hours after, trying to figure out how I could help her.
But I came up empty handed. There's nothing I could offer her that would make her situation better. It's a harsh reality to accept that I'm useless.
