“Oh,” I say, surprised. I didn’t know anything
about it, and yet Patrick spent all night at my
house last night. Didn’t he think to let me know
about it?
“It could mean a big change, you know … they
might be away for a while and we’d have to call in
more help here.”
“I understand.”
I understand very well. All those words, that
story about wanting to be close to me … what a
jackass.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes, everything’s fine, Rain. I’m going to get
the tables ready for tonight.”
I need to get away because Rain can see right
through me and I’m not up to it right now that my
disappointment’s burning my eyes and massacring
my heart. And to think I believed it. For one night
I believed his words and started hoping.
He made me pancakes and created a stupid
smile out of Nutella on them, covered them with
whipped cream and made me some tea. We
laughed in front of the TV until I fell asleep on the
couch. He took me in his arms and brought me to
bed and gave me a kiss on my forehead, wishing
me goodnight. And tonight I dreamt that that
stupid kiss on the forehead was something more. I
woke up in a great mood today, like I was me
again, like I could make it. And now, I’m right
back where I started.
