Page 149 of From Now On

“Ever try knocking?” I ask.

“Ididtry knocking. And calling your name. Get worse headphones.”

I roll my eyes and sit up. “Where are you headed?”

“Grocery store. We’re out of limes and bagels. You need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay. Conor’s coming over. Can you let him in if he shows up before I get back?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“We’re just planning to watch a movie, if you want to join us. Or invite Hunter.”

I glance at my charging laptop. I switched to reading when it died. Before it did, I was looking at apartments in New York.

“I might,” I answer. “But Hunter’s busy. He had some department honors dinner tonight.” I smile. “He gets a little plaque and everything.”

The corners of Harlow’s mouth turn up a little. “You look happy, E.”

“I am.”

Almost alarmingly so. The sort of bliss that is almost scary, because it feels like life can only go downhill from here.

Harlow smiles again, then taps my doorframe. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” I reply before she disappears down the hallway.

I look at my laptop again, then heave a sigh and open it. I’ve always been excited about moving to New York one day. Butone dayhas suddenly snuck up to seem imminent, and now I actually have to make plans. Sign a lease. Submit job applications. Still exciting. Also stressful.

I switch my music to play on the living room speaker rather than through my headphones, head bobbing to a pop playlist as I browse apartment listings. I lose track of time until the doorbell rings.

Must be Conor.

I slide off my bed and pad down the hallway to answer the door, pausing to plug my phone in before that battery dies too.

Conor gives me a lopsided smile when I open it. “Hey, Eve.”

“Hey. Harlow isn’t back yet.” I step aside so he can enter.

“No problem.” He heads for the couch.

The music I was playing cuts out abruptly, replaced by a quieter buzzing as my phone vibrates on the coffee table.

“Your, uh, dad is calling,” Conor tells me.

“Let it go to voicemail,” I tell him, then glance at the clock on the wall. Eight p.m. exactly.

I’m not sure if my dad calling at our usual time means he’s truly trying to reach me or he’s too set in his ways to adjust. Wealways schedule our next conversation at the end of the last one. Since I didn’t answer his most recent call, that date hasn’t been chosen. Part of me was expecting him to wait a full month to try me again.

“I’ve never heard you mention your dad before,” Conor comments.

“Yeah…we’re not close. He basically abandoned me and my mom, and now he has a new family with someone else.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Oh. Uh, right,” I say awkwardly.

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