Dad
I didn’t even have rich and powerful friends when I was rich and powerful.
Me
Why do you have to be so wholesome? If you were a little more cutthroat, you might have at least one asshole billionaire friend who could lend me a plane so I could go tell Tyler a million times how much I love him.
Dad
You mom likes me that way [winky faced emoji].
Me
Ew. No. Definitely not.
Dad
Hey, Soph?
Me
Yeah?
Dad
Are you happy?
Me
In this moment?
Dad
I was talking more, in general. Existentially.
I smile, thinking of Tyler. Of movie nights and grilled cheese and the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world. How he’s my other half. My best friend. My purveyor of jelly beans and icy Dr Pepper and the person I want to be with for the rest of my days. And as annoying as it is that I’m stuck here where he’s not, one more night doesn’t seem like that big of a tradeoff when I have the rest of my life to never be without him again. My thumbs start moving before I realize I’m typing.
Me
Yeah, Dad, I’m really, really happy.
Dad
That’s all we want for you.
Happy birthday, Soph. We’ll call later when your mom is home from work.
Me
Can’t wait to see your faces.
Dad
Likewise, kiddo. Love you.
Clicking out of my dad’s message thread, I hit the button to video call Tyler, needing to see his face, but the call rings out, so I click over to my messages and start typing.
Me
