"I'll hold you to that."
While she's in the shower, I open the text thread with my dad. The messages from my dad become progressively more aggressive.
Dad:Where are you?
Dad:Call me immediately.
Dad:I’ve got to give them an answer.
Dad:This is unacceptable.
Dad:I smoothed things over, but you need to call him today.
Dad:The dev camp invite is coming. Don't blow this.
Dad:Call me NOW.
I should call him back.
But the thought of talking to him makes me feel sick.
I don’t bother to listen to the voicemails. I get up and go to my room.
Sutton steps out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around her.
"Stop looking at me like that," she says, but she's smiling.
"Can't help it."
"Go shower. You smell like sex and shame."
"Just sex. No shame."
She laughs. "Go!"
When I get downstairs, Sutton's in the kitchen making eggs and toast. She's wearing leggings and one of my hoodies. I’m pretty sure she could turn me on wearing a burlap sack.
"Hungry?" she asks.
"Starving."
She plates our food, and we sit at the kitchen table. It feels domestic. Normal. Like we're an actual couple building an actual life together.
Except that nothing about our situation is normal.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I try to ignore it, but it keeps buzzing. Text after text.
“Declan, you’re going to have to talk to him. Is it about the scout?”
“Yes.”
“And? Are they going to snatch you up before the end of the semester?”
“Not that I know of. Haven’t talked to him.”
"We're going to have to talk about it eventually."
"I know."
