I get home in a miserable state indeed. I'm crying again, I have blisters on both my heels, my dress has become tight and uncomfortable. I felt so stupid, walking the seven miles home, but I'm so exhausted now I don't even care.
I can't bear it. I'm so ridiculously numb that I grab a pint of ice cream and sink into the couch in front of the TV. Andrew isn't even home yet. Who knows where he could even be. I'm not going to bed alone. The dark, silent house creeps me out.
I put on a Disney movie and try to block out my thoughts. I finish the ice cream and my eyelids are hanging low, and Andrew still isn't home. My eyes hurt from staring at the TV. And from crying. I switch over to a book, but the silence still gives me the shivers.
It's past 3:30 in the morning when Andrew gets home. I've finished my book and moved on to a second. The sound of his key in the lock makes me jump after so long just listening to my own breathing, but when I see him step through the door, I'm flooded with a rush of grateful relief.
Things must have gone well with Kayla, because he looks exhaustedly happy. He has lipstick on his mouth, and he's carrying his suit coat, but his shirt is still tucked in.
"Hey," he says when he sees me, and then, "What's wrong?"
"Owen left me," I say, and I start to cry.
He squints at me. "What?"
"He left me behind at prom. I had to walk home. I'm so-- I'm so-- I'm so tired," I whimper, and there are tears pouring down my face now.
"Hey, come here." Andrew holds out his arms for a hug, letting me slobber all over his dress shirt.
"Shh," he hushes me, rocking me back and forth. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay."
"I feel so stupid," I sob.
His jacket slips to the floor, and he embraces me with both arms. "This stuff happens," he reassures me softly. "You're going to be okay. I'm sure it was an accident, okay? Do you want to come to bed?"
"Will you make me hot chocolate?" I ask, the words trembling.
"Of course." His hug is warm and reassuring. "Don't worry about it, Claire. Tomorrow is Sunday. You can cry as much as you want."
"Okay," I whisper. I do cry-- a lot-- as he warms up milk in a saucepan. But then he pours the rich, chocolatey liquid into a couple mugs and we sip it together, staring blankly into the kitchen, and it relaxes me and calms me.
"You okay now?" he asks when I set my empty mug on the counter with a clink.
"Yeah." I sigh. "I'm okay."
He puts an arm around me and helps me upstairs, and I go to the bathroom and change into my cozy pajamas and slip into bed, and for a while, everything is okay.
***
In the morning, I text Owen several times, asking what happened. I text while I brush my teeth, while I eat breakfast, while I do homework. Nothing. Nothing.
I begin to wonder if something is wrong.
By midmorning, the radio silence is starting to get to me. It's starting to bother me. I text Jaclyn, asking her to call. It takes her a while, but at least she replies.
Can't right now. Mom and Dad are sleeping. What's up?
Boy trouble, I text back.
Oh. Yeah. Yikes.
He left me last night.
He left me behind. At prom.
I'm sorry. Are you okay?
Yeah. I'll recover.
أنت تقرأ
Flavors of Love | COMPLETE
العاطفيةClaire Carson is determined not to fall in love. She's your average high school senior- worried about friendships, school, and her job at the local ice cream store. But when her enemy, football player Owen James, stumbles into her life through a sch...
