The kitchen was always the heart of our home: alive with smells and sounds. Mom loved cooking, baking and experimenting with new recipes.
This kitchen is quiet. Sterile. A show-home decoration.
I swallow hard, glancing at Alex.
For the first time since my flashbacks started, I see him clearly. He’s older than I thought. Much older. I expected somebody in his twenties, but Alex must be nearing his forties.
Fine wrinkles surround his mouth, hinting that he’s smiled a lot in his youth. He’s wearing a beard, perfectly trimmed at the sides, his hair fresh and combed back.
He’s sharp. Rested. Curious as he stares after my father.
We’re at the table, the view out the window a blur, nothing but light, as if my mind doesn’t yet have enough information to show me the outside of my new home.
“How’s college, Hailey?”Alex asks, dragging his attention away from the door as he sips his coffee.“Made any friends?”
My stomach ties into elaborate knots when our eyes lock. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. Not like the dread that’s consumed me in other memories. This is excited nervousness. The kind that feels like butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach.
“Um, no, not yet.”
“Why is that? You’ve been here six months now.”
Six months... Dad said we moved at the end of summer, so this must be happening in spring.
“I don’t know... I’m not good at making friends.”
A sad smile twists his lips. He reaches across the table, covering my hand with his.“I know it’s hard, but you should start living your life again. Your mom would’ve wanted you to smile.”
Mom died in March which means I’ve been grieving for a year.
“I don’t have many reasons to smile. She’s not here, Dad’s almost never home, and I’m... alone.”
“That’s why you need someone in your life, Hailey.”He brushes the length of my thumb with his, making me blush.“You need a friend. Work is how Charlie’s coping with loss. He’s moving on, Hailey. So should you.”He tucks a loose strand of hair over my ear, gracing his fingers down my pink cheek.“How about you start small and get yourself out of these baggyclothes, hmm? You’d look pretty in a summer dress. I’d love to see you in something light.”
My heart skips, then beats faster, the infatuation growing. It’s echoed in the present for an entirely different reason.
I’m disappointed in myself because I changed forhim. I wanted his attention, his acceptance.
That’s not how love should work.
I wonder how long it took before I started crushing on him. Was it at first sight? He’s not bad looking, but he’s not my type. I crushed on enough celebrities in high school to know my type and Alex doesn’t hit the mark by any definition.
Nash does.
Maybe it wasn’t instant. Maybe it was gradual. I fell for his personality, not his looks. Though given how vile he is in every other recollection, that doesn’t make sense, either.
When did he start touching me like this? It’s intimate, not how a friend should act. Especially a friend that’s twice my age.
Isthatwhat drew me in? His age...?
He’s a completely different man in this memory to the others. Calm, happy, confident. Friendly and caring.
“I’ll make you a deal,”he continues, leaning back in his chair. He pulls out his wallet, dropping an AMEX card before me.“There’s a thousand dollars on here. Go to the mall today and spend it all on clothes. No black jeans, t-shirts, or hoodies. I want to see you in skirts and pretty blouses. Pastel colors. And while you’re at it, pick a nice dress to wear tonight.”
Tonight?”
“Yes. I’m throwing your father a surprise birthday party with a few friends from work.”
“But...”I stare at the AMEX card.“I can’t accept this, it’s—”
