Me, You, and Mason

12

Darcy's eyes popped out of her skull at the sound of the front door slamming.

Adrenaline fired through her like missiles as she sat up. The only thing that calmed her was the text message that flashed on her dying phone.

Aria💕
sorry for slamming the door!
just left for church wit my folks

Darcy sunk back into her mattress with a deep sigh. Her eyes fell closed once again as she attempted to gather her senses.

She was exhausted, having been kept up and out all night.

She was suffering from a love hangover, her head swirling and her body aching at the mere thought of what had her tiptoeing through her home like a teen who'd missed curfew.

And, she was sore. Everywhere.

"Ugh, that's what I get for going so hard, in the backseat of a truck no less," she murmured.

She felt that car sex was so overrated but couldn't help but smile at how special Sage made it feel. He knew how to seize a moment and make it a memory.

Before getting too swept up in flashbacks of their time spent, Darcy checked her phone again.

She swiped at her text thread with Sage, finding nothing new. The latest message was confirmation that he'd made it home, sent at 2:33 in the morning.

She'd checked her missed calls, only finding spam.

Pushing her pride aside, she decided to call first.

Voicemail.

With a sigh, she stretched and returned to their text thread. Too lazy to type, she opted to leave a voice memo.

"Don't tweak out when you see my missed call. I know you're probably still asleep or somethin'. I didn't want anything... just wanted to hear your voice when I woke up... Don't make that into a big thing, Sage. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

With that, she put her phone on the charger and commenced her day.

After a scorching bath and an hour's worth of mental racketball, Darcy slicked her hair into a bun. She put on a baby pink blouse and a deep blue, crocheted cardigan. With a pair of denim jeans and pink flats, her outfit was complete.

She endured a nearly two-hour drive before arriving at the facility where her father was imprisoned. With a deep breath, she gathered her bearings and headed inside.

Through security checks and a long wait alongside restless children and irritable mothers, she raked her mind for best and worst case scenarios.

Before she could fortify any positives, the room was allowed to meet their loved ones.

Seated at a table right next to a vending machine, her father— burly with salt and pepper hair and paprika colored skin— offered a crooked smile.

"Look at'chu," he embraced her tightly, as he always did.

"Look at'chu. You growin' a beard on me?" she accepted his bear hug and endearing forehead kisses.

"It's fly, right?" he grinned as they sat down.

"As always," she watched the corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile beamed.

"I missed you, baby girl."

"I missed you too; I just been busy," she insisted.

"Yeah, I can tell... You look tired, Darcy-Ann."

"Honestly, I am, but... I couldn't miss you for another week," she put on a smile.