I’m numb as I turn back to face my parents. Shame stokes a fire in my cheeks. Why keep hoping when they never change?
I withdraw my phone and see that Brandon never responded. I text him again.
KATE: Where are you?
I’m surprised at how vehement the pang of longing is in my chest. Confused at just how badly I need him right now.
Is he okay? Is he safe?
My eyes finally betray me as tears drip hot trails over my cheeks.
Liza tears up, yanking me into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry, too. I thought I could make this work, but I… I can’t,” I say.
She offers a nod full of compassion, but my tears only fall faster. I withdraw my hug and throw my shoulders back.
“Mom, Dad.” I address them each with a stiff nod. “I’m notsticking around if this is how I’m treated. I guess you know where to find me.”
I ignore their gaping mouths and walk away. The crowd blurs, the marching band roars, and I can barely make out a nearby dancing lion. I’m surrounded by people, yet I feel so agonizingly alone.
I call Brandon’s number again and again. The only comfort of his voice comes in the form of his voicemail. And it’s getting old.
I’m suddenly back at my senior art showcase, waiting for my parents to decide they love me enough to show up. If Brandon is entirely safe and truly cared about me, he’d be here right now. Or at least be answering my pitiful texts.
Is he standing me up?
I’m terrified at how badly I need him. The safety of his arms. His stupid jokes and easy laughter to lighten this suffocating pressure on my lungs.
I throw away my pride and text Tucker, his best friend. Surely he’d know if Brandon was hurt?
KATE: Is Brandon with you? He’s supposed to meet me at the parade and I’m worried.
TUCKER: He’s with me.
My stare glazes over with tears.
That’s it? No explanation?
No emergency happening that’s valid enough to stand me up for?
Brandon is fine. He’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. I simply wasn’t high enough on his priority list for him to show up for me.
Are he and Tucker at the raging party their fraternity was throwing tonight?
Is Brandon there, chatting up yet another girl who wears Chanel number five and is stupid enough to fall for his charm?
Bitterness floods my tongue. My breathing becomes sharp, my sobs growing louder.
How stupid could I have been to open myself up to someone like him?
What is so unbelievably wrong with me?
I crumble against a nearby alley and weep into my hands.
twenty-three
