Page 1 of The Thought of You

prologue

ADDIE

My mother’s awake.

Not only that, but she’s fully dressed and pilfering in the kitchen like she’s… cooking. Is she making me a celebratory breakfast for my first day of school?

“Good morning, Rain.” I slide onto a stool at the counter.

It’s been six years since she first required me to call her by her chosen name, Rain, and while it was a difficult transition, the name freely rolls off my tongue now.

“Oh! Hi, honey.” She turns with a mug in her hand.

I glance at the spot where the coffee pot used to sit, and it’s still vacant. “The coffee pot broke yesterday, remember?”

“Shoot. That’s right.” She slumps against the sink and blows out a frustrated breath.

“I’ll grab one on my way home from school later.” I add that to the list of things I need to do around here, right after adjusting our budget now that she’s quit yet another job.

Rain’s eyes lock onto the backpack in my hand, and her shoulders perk upright again. “Does school start today?”

“I thought that’s why you might be up already.” My voice trails off into a question as I skim the kitchen. No red light on the stove to indicate it’s on, no steaming eggs in a skillet, and no celebratory breakfast to be found.

“I’m just getting home, actually.” Rain wiggles her eyebrows, and the mischievous gleam in them nearly blinds me.

“Rafe kept you out all night, huh?” I say, trying to match her enthusiasm, but it proves to be difficult with so much disappointment weighing me down.

Then again, it’s my own fault for expecting anything more from my mother than this show of cluelessness.

I know better.

“Not Rafe.” She shakes her finger back and forth. “I met someone new.”

“I see,” I practically squeak in yet another attempt to meet her halfway.

“Don’t give me that look.” Rounding the corner, she shoots me a pointed stare. “I thought you agreed with me that I need to have fun.”

I hoist my backpack onto my shoulder and say, “I was talking about a different kind of fun, like taking up a hobby or learning a foreign language.”

“Dating is a hobby. And it has its own language.”

“I meant something like knitting. Something that keeps you out of trouble.”

“One time!” she bursts on a laugh. But she’s the only one amused. “I got into trouble once, and as I’ve told you, I didn’t know Garfield illegally sold guns.”

“With a first name like Garfield, you should’ve known there was something off about him.”

“If I did, do you really think I would’ve gone out with him? You know how I feel about weapons.”

“I had to beg Leon to drive me to bail you out. He was so thrilled with the favor that he’s never let me forget it. Brings it up all the time, right in between his distaste for the bright color of our house and our lack of lawn ornaments.”

“He should’ve been happy to take his rusted old wagon out of the garage for once. In fact, he owes me a thank-you.” She smiles deviously.

Quietly, I back away toward the door, and she follows me, much to my chagrin.

“Speaking of driving…”

“Please don’t start.” I throw the door open and race out of it.

---