Forevermore

Twenty

For once, the assigned English reading isn't boring or too difficult for me to understand.

I sit on the living room couch with my copy of The Great Gatsby propped up in my lap. Dad is with my brother at batting practice, leaving me home alone. Me and Honey.

Honey is curled up on the floor just below me. I've grown quite fond of the golden retriever, actually. He's not too loud or messy and he's got quite a nice face.

My reading gets interrupted when someone unlocks the door. Excitement buzzes through me at the prospect of Ezra walking through that door. We haven't spoken much since I picked him up from homecoming. I think he's still embarrassed about me having to pick him up, but at least he's not avoiding me completely. We still make small talk in AP Biology and he helped me with the Trig assignment yesterday.

I put a bookmark on the page that I'm on before setting it down beside me.

A moment later, the door opens. I turn around and feel my happiness begin to deflate.

Instead of Ezra walking next to Lucas, it's a girl. They're holding hands, quietly talking. And then they disappear upstairs. That happens quite often–him bringing girls home to hangout with–so I just ignore it.

I follow my dad into the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"Sesame noodles with chicken," he replies. "Do you want to cut the chicken for me?" He phrases it as a question, but I know that's his way of telling me to do it.

"Sure," I reply.

Dad pulls his phone out, connecting it to the speaker that sits on the kitchen island. A song by Linkin Park begins quietly playing before he starts pulling ingredients out from the fridge and pantry.

Once he's working on the noodles and I'm cutting the chicken, I finally build up the courage to ask him, "So, where's Ezra?"

"Said he wanted to shower first, but I think he just doesn't want to third-wheel Charlotte and Lucas."

Charlotte. That's a pretty name. From the quick second I saw her walk in, she seemed sweet. That's probably due to the way she was smiling and her soft features.

"Do you think I..." I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. "Maybe I can take Ezra some dinner?"

My dad glances over at me with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, if you really want to, sure."

I nod before quickly adding, "Just so he doesn't feel left out."

He narrows his eyes at me with a knowing smile. "Right...yeah."

I'm quick to return to the task at hand. I'm not sure if adding that last part made him suspicious–not that there's anything to be suspicious about–but I'm just going to hope it didn't.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Instead of eating dinner at home, I put our meal in two bowls with tin foil covering the tops and grab two Capri Suns for good measure.

My dad has to open the fence for me since my hands are full. "Love you, kid," he says as I step onto the sidewalk.

"Love you, Dad."

Once I cross the street and walk up the front steps, I realize that there's a problem. I have no free hands to knock on the door.

Maybe I could kick it?

No, that's stupid. Who kicks doors?

Actually, Ezra did that one time.

I huff out a breath before deciding to just set one of the bowls on the ground. My heart beats rapidly through my chest as I bring my fist up and knock. Another deep breath before picking up the bowl again.