Ethan’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “Took some research, but apparently, it’s a thing.” The server finished setting out the spread and quietly left us to our meal.
I sat down on my knees by the coffee table.
Ethan sat across from me, eyeing his dinner dubiously.
“You’re going to love it,” I said, grabbing mine and a bunch of napkins before sinking my teeth into the crunchy, saucy goodness.
“Well, I’m enjoying the company,” he said with that tilted, half smile. I was glad my mouth was too full to answer. I didn’t trust what I might say to that.
“Want to watch some T.V.? Take your mind off recent events?” He picked up a remote.
I nodded, crunching into another bite.
He took a small bite then hit the power button.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“It’s honestly not bad.” He took another bite and clicked through the channels. The cheerful notes of a cartoon theme song chirped into the room. A yellow sea sponge and his pink sea star friend frolicked across the screen, and I bopped my head along before I could stop myself.
“I used to love this show,” I said sheepishly.
He looked at me for a moment, his expression almost pensive. Then he grinned. “Who wouldn’t? SpongeBob is hilarious.”
My mouth dropped open, then I giggled. “And Squidward is such a grump.”
By the end of the first episode, I had scarfed three tacos. By the second episode, my eyelids were drooping, heavy and thick. The last thing I remembered before drifting to sleep on the big white couch was Ethan, tucking an impossibly fluffy blanket around me and folding back a wild strand of my hair. As sleep overtook me, I almost thought I heard him say, “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”
6
SOPHIA
“Such a disappointment.”
Even in my dreams, my father’s words pulsed and ached like an old wound.
“You were never gonna cut it, space mouse,” Brad the bartender added, wiping down a glass. His teeth glowed in the blue light of the club.
A circle of people surrounded me, arms all crossed in judgment.
“Think she needs a Daddy, Craig?” The celebrity dentist’s son and his friend laughed and dumped beer bottles into my shoes.
“You look like a maid.” Mr. Roscoe glared at me. “Come here.” He pointed his still-smoking gun at my face.
“No!” I tried to scream, but it came out a whisper. “I didn’t see anything. I didn’t say anything.”
The moon-faced man gripped my ponytail, dragging me out of my closet. I clawed at him, crying out as I smashed into my nightstand. The sharp tinkling sound of breaking glass mixed with his creepy laughter ringing in my ears.
“Shh. I’m here with you.” A rich, deep voice that sounded like safety echoed around me.
The moon-faced man frowned, and his grip loosened in my hair. “I’ll be back,” he whispered in a bad Terminator impression before letting me go and running away.
“Baby, you’re safe.” The deep voice swirled somewhere in the darkness. I threw my hands out, reaching for him and feeling only air between my fingers.
“Sophia, wake up.”
My eyes flew open, and I gasped for air, slapping at the hands that gripped my shoulder.
“It’s me. It’s Ethan. You’re safe.”