The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-One

Lexi always loved curried chicken. It was one of her favorite entrees at the Indian restaurant downtown. Wedged between a movie theater and a pizzeria, it was a cornerstone of a perfect night out for the Robinson family. They ate before a double feature time and time again. It was a ritual, a tradition.

Lexi could fondly recall memories sitting in that same restaurant, laughing and talking around the table as they ate. They frequently ordered the same meals, enjoying their time together. The back booth sat the whole family, glowing under the bulb that danced over their heads as the AC moved the lamp.

All the elements remained unchanged. Except for one pivotal detail.

There were three Robinsons, not four.

A line of condensation spilled down the side of Lexi's glass. She traced it down to the moment it splashed against the table. It looked like a tear, as if the water she was drinking had absorbed some of her sadness.

Her father was flicking through the menu. Pointlessly, Lexi might add. They all ordered the same meals when they came here, and that wasn't going to change after a decade of routine.

"They added a new special," Dad was saying. "See?"

He gestured to an animated picture alongside the entree options. Her mom pretended to care. Lexi gave nothing away.

"It looks delicious," Dad continued. "I think I'll try it out."

He and Quinton split the chicken tandoori and lamb without fail. It was a tradition too, like the meal, like the place. She was stunned to hear he wanted to break the trend. It spurred something in her. The numbness she'd felt was fading quickly. Anger fed into her instead.

Lexi pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Don't say anything. Don't say anything. Don't.

"But you love the tandoori," Mom protested.

"Sometimes we have to try something new," he replied. "Variety is the—"

"Spice of life," Lexi snapped. "You say that a lot. We get it. But if you want variety so much, why are we here? Why not change this up too?"

Surprised, her father's eyebrows raised. "I thought we could use a night out in a place we all enjoy."

"I enjoyed it more with Q," Lexi growled, growing hostile.

"Lexington," Mom chastised.

"What? Are you scared to hear his name?" Lexi challenged. "Quinton. My brother's name is Quinton, and he's dead. This place was his favorite restaurant in all of Texas. We don't go here without him. Ever."

"I didn't mean to upset you, Lexi," Dad murmured. "I thought maybe..."

"You should have asked," she cut him off. "I don't want to be back here. Not without Q. Never again."

She pushed up from the table, grabbing her purse as hastily as she could.

"Lexi," Mom called after her. "Honey, wait."

Lexi pointedly ignored the pleading of her parents. She walked across the restaurant, weaving through tables and waitstaff until she reached the front door and pushed her way into the night. It was warm when she stepped out, and humid, too. Despite the sun being down, she was overwhelmed with the remnants of summer.

A few people were waiting for a table, their conversation excited and optimistic. Lexi muttered an excuse me under her breath and ducked into the alleyway next to them. It was a hiding place, her way to keep out of sight and be alone. Her parents might come looking, even though she hoped they wouldn't.