“Where’s his mom these days?” my mom asked.
“Jennifer? Bly Corners, still. She’s a principal at the middle school. Remarried.”
Another knock at the door, this time louder. “Finley,” Kasey called. “Can you let us know you’re okay?”
I squeezed my eyes shut so tight, my sight went black. “I’m fine. Please… just leave me alone.”
My voice cracked on the last part. How embarrassing. And just like that, I was crying again. When I finally calmed down, I knew I’d been heard. They were gone.
I opened my eyes to find the room dark, a pink sky now showing through the window. My mouth was so dry, I could barely swallow. Just like that, it all came back.
I’m so sorry, Idaho.
I got off the bed, stumbling out the door to the bathroom. I barely recognized myself in the mirror—my eyes were so swollen from crying. Splashing water on my face didn’t help.
When I came back out, I saw Ben by the coffeemaker. He was carrying a cardboard crate full of groceries, a sheaf of papers tucked under one arm. For a moment, I watched him unpack: big tray of eggs, gallon of milk, sizeable bag of coffee, two-pack of bread. The way he moved around the kitchen, so familiar, made it clear that he, too, knew this place. Me in the doorway, though, was apparently a surprise. When he saw me, he jumped.
“Hey,” he said. His shirt, the same one from earlier, I now saw said,UNION GROVE SPARTANS FIGHT!A helmet with a fist coming out of it was underneath. He put the papers on the counter. “These are for Cat. She needed something printed.”
I looked through to the porch, all those windows and the water beyond. The package Lana had delivered was now open on the table, the printer beside it. Nearby on a chair were several cords and an open manual.
“Printer wasn’t working,” he explained. “I was already going to Bly Supply for the Egg.”
Any other time, I would have at least tried to act normal. Especially in front of a good-looking guy my age. Now I just nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak.
“There’s a Home Office two doors down. No big deal.”
He turned back to the box, taking out a twelve pack of beer and a comically large plastic clamshell of grapes. “So,” he said, “you get hold of your boyfriend?”
I shook my head, then made this weird, strangled noise. It was so embarrassing. Not as much as what happened next, though. I burst into tears.
“Whoa,” he said, looking alarmed. “Are you—”
“He dumped me.”
This came out more as a wail than words.
“Oh,” he said.
“Over video call,” I added. “Fromsea.”
For a moment, he just stood there, clearly flummoxed. He took a look around the kitchen. “Do you… want a grape?”
“What?”
He reached over, picking up the plastic clamshell. It was so packed that when he took off the top, the fruit just burst out, as if excited. He held it out to me. “Here.”
I didn’t know what to do other than take one. As I popped it into my mouth, he helped himself as well. Then we both just stood there, chewing.
“I don’t know why I just did that,” he said after swallowing. “Probably should have offered you a tissue instead.”
Somehow, I laughed. “I was wondering when grapes became sympathy items.”
“Right now,” he said. “Apparently. Another?”
I nodded at the beers on the counter. “Actually, can I have one of those?”
“Uh… yeah. Sure.” He tore the box and removed a bottle, popping the top open on the edge of the counter before handing it to me. It was cold, dotted with beads of condensation. “Your mom’s not around, I’m assuming?”
