Page 38 of Every Broken Thing

“Promise.”

12

Steak 'n Shake

Tech week was brutal.I spent every free minute working on the remaining set pieces or in the sound booth during the dress rehearsals. Ben stopped by a couple of times after practice, but I was busy, not to mention stressed. I wasn’t good company, and he never stayed long. We texted during the day and sometimes after rehearsal, but I was usually too tired for socializing.

Thursday night, I came home from our last rehearsal before the show to find my dad home. He sat in the living room reading a newspaper, and I dropped my backpack to the floor with a tired harrumph.

“Oh, hey, Dad,” I said as he glanced over the top of the paper, the crows-feet around his eyes crinkling as he smiled at me. “You’re home early.”

He folded his paper and cleared his throat. “Well, I wasn’t going to miss your play tomorrow.”

Regardless of the fact I never stepped foot on stage, Dad came to every single performance I took part in since freshman year. I told him numerous times it wasn’t necessary, but he never failed to make an appearance. Secretly I loved his presence and support, but it was hard to admit out loud.

“You don’t have to come.” My socked toe dug into the carpet, and he grunted out a mumbled response I didn’t understand. “But it’s good to see you.”

His neck colored, fueling my own discomfort, and we stood in awkward silence before he offered to order me some food.

“I ate pizza at rehearsal. I’m good.”

“Oh, okay.”

I smiled, and he returned the grin, his wrinkles deepening. “Well, I need to shower, so…” Dad nodded as I shuffled across the living room, pausing at the base of the steps to send him a wave. “I’m glad you’re home, Dad.”

Before he could respond to my uncharacteristic sappiness, I raced up the stairs to my bedroom. After showering and finishing my homework, I crawled into bed, exhausted. I checked my phone, chuckling as I read Ben’s texts. Alice was flirting with him again, and he was too damn nice to tell her to take a hike.

I texted him, exasperated.

Silas: Just tell her about your girlfriend. She’s tenacious, but I bet she’d back off if she knew you were unavailable.

My phone rang less than a minute after I sent the message, and I clicked off my lamp before answering. “Hello?”

“What girlfriend?” Ben asked before I finished my greeting.

“Huh?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” His tone was tight in defensive annoyance. If I wasn’t overwhelmingly happy at the news, I would have been irritated by his obvious and irrational frustration.

Unsure what to say, I snuggled into my blanket with a grunt. “Oh, okay. Then I guess you can’t use that as an excuse unless you lie.”

“Why did you think I had a girlfriend?”

Why did this matter?

“I saw the pictures of you and the, uh, Asian girl, and I just assumed. What’s the problem?”

He was quiet for a moment, and the rustling of sheets crackled from his end of the connection. “You mean Caitlyn? She’s not my girlfriend. Just a good friend from Sacramento.”

“Um, okay. Cool.”

The line fell quiet, and I stared at my dark ceiling, still confused.

“How was rehearsal?” Ben asked, and I swore I got whiplash from the sudden one-eighty.

“Good. There’s always kinks to work through, but we’ll pull it together tomorrow. We always do.” I cradled my phone between my ear and my pillow as I turned on my side, studying the light filtering through the cracks in my shut blinds.

“Sorry I won’t be there tomorrow. I have a meet.”

---