After we hang up, I set a timer for the food and then trudge into the living room to do my homework and study for the SATs. I struggle to get either done. I’m too bummed out.
For so long I’ve been saying that my dad’s long hours are no big deal, but ever since Vaughn asked me if it bothers me that my dad works so much, I can’t stop thinking about it. And I guess the truth is, it does bother me. I don’t want it to. It feels selfish to complain about it when I know I’m lucky in so many ways, but if I’m being honest, then there it is.
In the quiet moments when there are no activities, no schoolwork, no friends around, I miss my dad. It isn’t the same way I miss my mom, but it’s still a void in my life.
I text Claire to chat, but she’s with Austin and I already know Andie is at the hockey game tonight, so I try to focus on schoolwork again.
My phone vibrates on the couch next to me and with it a jolt of hope and excitement spreads through me that one of my friends is free to talk. I need a distraction. Studying isn’t cutting it tonight.
Vaughn:Hey, sorry to bother you. I have a question on complex numbers.
Me:Are you at home?
Vaughn:Yeah. Why?
Me:I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I need to draw pictures to explain.
* * *
I ring the doorbell at Vaughn’s house, holding the casserole dish in two hands in front of me.
My smile falters when the door swings open and an older man with tan skin and a beard streaked with gray fills the space. Literally fills it. He’s huge.
“Hello,” he says, voice as big as the man.
I glance behind me, like maybe I have the wrong house, but Vaughn’s Range Rover is in the driveway.
“I’m looking for Vaughn,” I say hesitantly.
“Come in.” He steps back and angles his body. “I’m Rick, a friend of his dad.”
Before he can call for him, Vaughn appears. He’s in black joggers and pulling a Frost Lake High School soccer T-shirt over his head. But not before I get an eyeful of his bare chest and stomach. He’s muscular and cut in a way that high school guys are shown on TV but never are in real life. My throat feels thick as I try to swallow.
“Lacey,” Vaughn says my name, gaze dropping to the casserole dish and then back up to me. It hits me now standing in front of these two tall, intimidating men that I might have interrupted something.
I shift awkwardly from foot to foot. I’d like to thrust the meatloaf at him and hightail it out of here, but Rick closes the door behind me. Too late to make a run for it, I guess.
“I brought food in case you’re hungry.”
“Smells delicious,” Rick says. He takes the dish from me and heads toward the kitchen, leaving me with Vaughn.
“You didn’t have to come over in person. I know you’re busy.”
“The night before your big test, are you kidding? Besides, it’s my last shot to torture you with numbers andequations.”
His lips curve up into a smile.
I follow him through the house. Rick has cut himself a big slice of meatloaf and is groaning as he chews.
“Did you make this?” he asks me.
“Yeah.” I nod, feeling my face flush hot.
“She’s a keeper.” He winks at Vaughn and my cheeks somehow flame even hotter.
Vaughn rolls his eyes.
“A pretty girl who can cook…” He takes another bite and groans louder. “If I were twenty years younger, I’d fight my godson here for you.”
