Mom’s in her office, sorting through some papers she said she’ll need tomorrow, and I’m wandering around the house looking for Ethan… because there’s one last birthday wish I need to make.
I find him outside, in the backyard. He’s sitting on the grass by the stairs, leaning back on the wall, his phone in his hands, typing fast with this tiny smile on his face.
I take off my shoes and sneak down the steps. When I’m close enough, I say, “Texting Da-li-la?”
“Damn, Alicia! You scared me.”
I giggle and plop down on the chair across from him. “What are you doing sitting out here in the dark, like a total weirdo?”
We talk over each other, me teasing, him blurting, “Who told you about Dalila?”
I shrug. “Sophia. She said that’s all anyone talks about on your side of the school.”
He sighs and slips his phone into his pocket.
“So, you two are... what?” I ask, leaning forward.
He rolls his eyes. “We’re not anything. She was just nice to me, that’s all. We’ve been talking.”
I tuck one leg under me and squint at him. “Hmm. I don’t know if I like her. I remember once she was kinda mean to a girl just because of what she was wearing.”
Ethan groans. “Things like that are just girl drama. I’m sure she wasn’t trying to be petty, she’s not like that.”
I cross my arms. “No, it’s called beingmean. And you’re being dumb because she’s pretty.”
He smirks. “You sound like Mom, when you use that tone.”
“Thank you,” I say proudly, and that makes him laugh.
For a second, we don’t say anything. The pool lights are off, but the garden lamps glow just enough for me to see his face.
“You miss Dad, don’t you?” I ask in a whisper.
Ethan looks at me, surprised. He doesn’t answer right away. Just picks at the grass beside him.
“No,” he says finally. “Sometimes I miss how things used to be. But not really... him.”
I nod, thinking about that. “I think he misses us, though.”
We don’t say anything for a while after that. I hug my knees to my chest, bite my lip, and twist my fingers in the hem of my Taylor Swift T-shirt.
“You can talk, Buttercup,” Ethan says gently. “I know you’ve got something on your mind.”
I take a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to say it. “Your graduation’s in two weeks,” I start, then hesitate, staring down at my hands. “I know you don’t want him there... but, for me—just as a birthday gift—could you invite Dad to come?”
“Alicia. It’s my graduation. I don’t think I want him there,” he replies, but I can hear the hesitation in his voice.
I sigh, blinking fast as the tears start to sting. “I know,” I whisper. “Maybe I’m being selfish. But I know Mom’s still hurting too.” My voice shakes. “You didn’t see her face when you kept shutting Dad out all afternoon. To the point where you wanted to wait for Uncle Mark to hang that streamer instead of letting him help.”
Ethan shuts his eyes, jaw tightening, but I keep going.
“You know, it’s not easy for me either,” I say, picking at a loose thread on my shirt. “At first, even when Patricia kept saying in our sessions that it wasn’t my fault—that the choices adults make are their own responsibility—I couldn’t stop thinking maybe it was. Maybe if I’d gotten better grades like you... or if I were good with numbers like Dad... or if I’d been more grown-up, not so childish like the girls at my old school used to say... maybe he would’ve stayed home more. Maybe he wouldn’t have found someone else while he was married to Mom.”
“Alicia, that’s—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” I whisper. “I know, and I get it. But sometimes I just can’t help it. Patricia calls it an intrusive thought.” I stare down at my bare feet. “But Ethan... at the end of the day, he’s our Dad. And I can’t just ignore him, or stop talking to him like you do. I can’t.”
My voice cracks. “Maybe I’m just weak. Or stupid, like Ashley and her friends used to call me.”
