I haven't had any visitors either, but sometimes my dad sends letters or calls. He's landed a new job and is really busy. I feel bitter about it sometimes. After all, I'm his only kid, andI think he could spare a couple of hours a week to visit. But on the other hand, just him being alive and not drinking too much is already more than I can ask for, considering the demons he's battling. Way bigger than any of mine, and mine aren't small.
Jack's family visits all the time. His mom is quite something. I met her on one of the special weekends where parents come and have lunch with their kids at school. Her hair is dyed blonde but fading to orange, and she smells like cigarettes. Jack's mom is the only parent who regularly shows up from our dorm. But, man, she's cool.
"You guys are all my kids now, not just Jack," she says, while we're all eating together. It's pizza, a special day for us, and we're outside, at tables they set up in the courtyard. It's sunny, and, as always, I'm basking, feeling it warming me. "Your folks don't come to visit? That's crazy. I couldn't stay away from my little guy for that long," she adds and hugs Jack tightly. I can totally see Jack in her. They have the same brown eyes and similar features. I figure Jack will look a lot like her when he gets older, maybe a bit less worn if he steers clear of smoking. Despite everything, she's hilarious and a good mom. Her name is Berenice, and Jack tells me she moved here from Georgia just to be closer to him.
"She's always been there, you know?" he tells me, and I can swear his eyes are kinda misty. "I didn't want to let her down like this."
"You haven't let anyone down. You're doing your best," I say, clapping him on the shoulder.
Ethan, on the other hand, never gets visits or letters, for obvious reasons. So, when he tells me he's heading out for the break, I'm shocked.
And upset.
He'll leave me here.
"Where do you stay?" I ask.
"I stay at my auntie's," he says, like he doesn't want to divedeep into it. While Miles is dying to get out, it seems like the opposite for Ethan.
And I don't want him to go either. I don't want to stay away from him.
The day before he's set to leave, we stay behind after dinner, the guys heading to the rec room. We go to his office as fast as we can. He locks the door, and when he turns around, the look on his face isn't his usual. He looks sad as fuck.
"I don't want to go," he says, sighing, and it makes my chest ache, because Ethan never talks about feelings.
"Then don't."
"You know I can't, baby," he says and looks at me, tender, brushing his fingers into my hair. "It's mandatory."
"I know," I sigh.
He looks at me, and I can see the worry behind those green eyes.
"You'll be alright?" he asks. He sounds hurt.
"Daddy! I've lived my whole life without you. Miserably, but I survived!" I exclaim, trying to sound cheerful. He smiles, huffing, so close to me.
I close the distance between us, slowly. My hands find his waist. He exhales, long and shaky, and his forehead drops against mine.
Then his mouth is on mine, and it isn't like the other times, desperate, frantic, fueled by adrenaline and lust and anger. This is slow. His hand cradles the back of my neck. I start pulling his shirt off. His hands slide under my shirt, palms warm and slightly rough against my ribs, and I pull him closer.
He pulls back enough to look at me, and the tenderness in his expression almost wrecks me. His thumb traces my jawline, brushes over my lower lip.
"I'm going to miss you so much," I say, and I hate that I'm not able to play it cool.
"It's okay, sweetheart. It's just for a little while," he says, but he sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "That's all."
"Feels like forever."
"I know, baby."
He kisses me again, deeper this time.
His hands move down my chest, my stomach, fingers tracing the waistband of my grays. Then he does something I never expect.
He drops to his knees.
That massive, broad-shouldered, six-foot-something, Mr. Leader, Mr. Obey Me, is on his knees in front of me, looking up at me with those green eyes.
