Mum was in the kitchen making smashed avocado and vegan fetta on toast for me. I waited at the kitchen table, flicking through a Gluten Free Life magazine, dreading an inquisitive conversation.
'What did you do last night?' mum asked.
'Nothing much. Watched Stranger Things. How was Tate's show?'
'He was so good. I'm so proud of him,' mum said, beaming. 'His hat fell off, but he kept going. Afterwards, I said he was a true professional ...' My thoughts were curtains on this conversation, the only conversation I could have was with myself – about love, and touch, and sweat, and kisses on the neck, a deep breath in my ear, a clench of my inner thigh, a pointer finger running along my collarbone, my most secret doorbell saying welcome.
'Macy?'
I looked up. She'd stopped talking about Tate.
'You're not listening to me. I said, you have to be home by 5pm. I'll pick you up after the matinee for the evening performance.'
'Okay.'
'What are you doing today?'
'Nothing much. Homework. Might meet Zuri later on.' I checked my watch, hoping mum and Tate would be gone before I had to leave for Tucker's.
'How long will breakfast be?'
'Ten minutes.'
That meant at least twenty minutes. 'I'll take a shower,' I said.
YOU ARE READING
A Reason to Exist
Teen FictionSometimes falling in love is the most dangerous trick to land ... Macy always follows the rules. For years, her mother has warned her that the world is full of toxins and accidents waiting to happen. Tucker lives next door. He doesn't follow any rul...
