I almost stumble forward when the door swings open, then I’m staring into my dad’s startled face. His eyes widen, and my gaze travels over the three suitcases at his feet, a duffle bag draped over one shoulder.
“Hunt ...” He sizes up my soaked basketball uniform. “You’re home early.”
“The game was canceled.” I conveniently leave out what activity I took up in its place. Dad knows enough about it for the both of us anyway. Hell, he was practically my teacher. “I called, but your phone went to voicemail.”
“Must’ve missed it. Well, uh ... just going to pick up some dinner. Any requests?”
“Dinner?” I stare at the bags by his feet, and a cold feeling washes over me. “I made meatloaf before school, remember? It’s in the fridge.”
He nods, looking away. “Right. That’s right.”
“What’s going on? My key’s not working.”
“Uh ...” He watches me. “I’m sorry, son. You know we’ve been in trouble for a while now. The house ...”
“Yeah, the bank’s taking the house. I know. But that’s not till next month, right? You already found a new place?”
When he only stares at me, eyes as wide as globes, the cold feeling hardens to ice. I look over my shoulder, checking the vehicles lining the street, half-expecting to see one of his side flings waiting for him, but there’s no one.
“What’s going—?”
“They’re seizing it early,” he mumbles, suddenly scrambling for his bags and pushing past me. He doesn’t look back when he adds, “Locks were changed this afternoon. You probably have a good few weeks before they force you out, though, so you can stay here till then.”
“Wait. What?” I drop my backpack and jog after him, shaking the wet hair out of my face. My shoes squeak over the grass. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re just finding out about this now?”
He shakes his head, plunging forward across the lawn and toward his Mercedes. “Three weeks. I found out three weeks ago.”
“Dad, wait. Just stop for a second!” I’m heaving when I reach him, and it’s not from exhaustion. My chest—it’s closing in. I can’t breathe. Is he doing what I think he’s doing?
He opens his trunk, avoiding me at all costs as he rams his luggage inside. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry ... I’m—”
My breath rushes out in a sharp exhale. “You’re—you’resorry?” I shove his shoulder, knocking him off-balance, but he only quickens his pace. “What the hell are you doing? What about Mom? Jesus, Mom ... especially now ... don’t you know what this is gonna do to her?”
“Your mom’s fine,” he says, slamming the trunk shut and moving around the car. “I left you a note in the living room. It explains a little bit. The side window’s unlocked—you can use that as an entrance for now.”
“You left a note?” I spit. My voice is trembling, and I’m not sure the wetness on my cheeks is only from the rain. “You think that’s gonna be enough for her?”
“Your mom’s taken care of, Hunt.”
My eyes narrow, heat blistering from the center of my heart like it’s been set on fire. “Fine. Let’s pretend that’s true. What about me?” I know I sound like a dumb little kid, but that’s how I feel. Dumb. Childish.
Scared.
Ignoring me, he gets in the driver’s seat, shutting the door in my face.
“What about me!” I shout, my fist slipping against the wet window when I bang it.
But he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at me. The engine starts, smooth and quiet, and then the car is out of my reach.
Like an idiot, I run after him, not sure if I’m trying to get him to turn around or to chase him off.
Chasing a ghost. Staring after his taillights even when the vehicle rounds the corner and fades from sight. I taste salt on my lips, desperation in my lungs, sharp and terrifying. I run until my muscles burn almost as much as my chest. I run for so long I don’t know where I am anymore. Don’t know how I’m even breathing through the crushing ache strangling my insides. I run until I can’t see straight; can hardly form a thought.
Except for one.
One clear thought manages to form when my feet stop moving, as I bend over to keep from passing out. If this is what it feels like to be abandoned ... I’m never giving anyone this kind of power over me again.
A high-pitched giggle pierces my ears, and I drag my gaze to the window. Kimmie and some other girl are walking toward the pool, talking and laughing, but they’re hardly more than a blur.
