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Two

The first thing I notice when I wake up is Lucas's baseball cap on my bedside table. The second is the tall glass of water right next to it. I reach for it, desperately needing to alleviate my parched throat.

I feel hot, which must be an after-effect of the tequila I had last night. I rub my temples, attempting to stop my head from spinning. All I see is Lucas, as if the evidence he left behind in my room isn't enough. I remember him laughing with me as I try to do my best Bernie impersonation. I envision him grabbing my hand, twirling me around as we dance. I recall him lifting me up in the air as someone snaps a photo of us.

Jesus, did that happen?

I pick up my phone. Along a string of notifications, I see that I've been tagged in photos. I tap on them and stare at the pictures for what seems like hours, but there's one in particular I keep going back to. Lucas is lifting me up with one arm wrapped around me, smiling like he's just won gold at the Olympics. I've never looked so happy.

I feel like a crazy person staring at the same picture with a grin plastered on my face. I can't resist, and I end up saving the picture to my phone.

Okay, Claudia, get it together.

I head to the shower and smile the entire time. I haven't felt like this in ages, like a little girl who has no worries in the world, excited about the day to come. Even when I look in the mirror, bright hazel eyes are staring back at me despite the major hangover I have. I notice they're watery too, probably because I stayed up late.

I wonder if he's going to call me. He insisted he would, but things that seem like a great idea when you're drinking usually don't turn out that way the next morning. I'm so conflicted. I want him to call me, but at the same time I don't. If we were to leave things how we did last night and not see each other again for three more years, I would be able to live with that. We're at a good place now. I just know if I see him again, things are only going to get more complicated.

I leave my room and head to the kitchen, but I stop when I hear my parents yelling at each other. They've been fighting constantly since I've been home. It's usually that way, but this time it seems much worse. I don't understand them. I never have. They should have divorced years ago, but they didn't. All my dad ever did was move out to a hotel when I was fifteen, but he came straight back after a month.

Lucas's parents got a divorce. I know it was hard on him, but in a way, I envied him. I always thought his situation was better than mine. His mom kicked his dad out of the house and never looked back. She was a smart woman. She, like my dad, never deserved what happened, but at least she had more balls than he ever did.

My dad starts yelling in Japanese, and that's when I can tell things are extra bad. My mom never bothered to learn it, but I can understand exactly what he's saying and it's not good. I retreat to my room and lock the door behind me. Every time I come home, I'm forced to relive my high school years all over again. I truly believed they'd been waiting for me to move out to finally separate, but it's been three years and they still haven't done it. Sometimes I wish they would for all our sakes. We stopped being a family a long time ago. I simply don't understand why they keep up with the pretenses.

I sigh and lie down back in bed. There's no way I'm entering that kitchen. I don't think I could eat right now anyway. Even as I think about it, it's nauseating. I should just take a nap. I grab Lucas's cap and place it loosely over my head to shield my eyes from the morning light. Hopefully it'll be over by the time I wake up again.

❄️

Hey, Audi. You up?

I've been staring at the message I received from an unknown number for the last five minutes. The ping that interrupted my nap irritated me at first, but the text makes me a lot happier than it should. I've been wondering who Lucas got my number from. Probably Karen, but I'm surprised she didn't tell me. I save his number as a new contact before I write back.