Page 32 of When You Left Me Speechless

We make it to the front doors of the school. I know I should say something. I can’t leave her thinking I’m some messed up asshole. I half expect her to walk away without a word, but she doesn’t. She hovers by the door like sheexpects me to be the first person to break this awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” I begin.

She turns to face me and crosses her arms. We are close enough that I am enveloped in her perfume. I’m quickly becoming addicted to her citrus scent. I take a step back, mindful there is an appropriate amount of space two coworkers should keep between themselves when standing alone in the hall.

“He just texted me before I ran into you, and then when I asked him a question about something important to me, he didn’t respond. My dad and I don’t have the best relationship. I didn’t mean to lay that on you or to sound like an asshole, especially after the day you had today.” I run my hand through my hair.

She is quiet for a minute longer, and I search my brain for more words to try to save this interaction.

“Then why suffer through dinner with him?”

“Huh?”

“Why suffer through dinner with him if he’s that awful?” She repeats her question and I don’t know how to respond. Her eyes pierce me, and I feel like she is seeing a part of me I don’t usually share with people.

“Because it’s what we’ve always done since I was a little kid. We go to dinner for his birthday and mine and pretend we don’t hate each other.” There is another beat of silence, and I wonder what I’m doing being vulnerable with this girl.Friends.We decided to be friends.

“If you hate going, then don’t go.”

“It’s not that simple. It’s complicated,” I say.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Doesn’t sound like it has to be, but I do seem to remember you’re no fun, so a no-fun dinner with your dad seems like something you would force yourself to sit through.” The corners of her mouth tip up into a small smile, and she rocks back and forth on her heels.

I let out a small laugh, thankful for her willingness to tease me even when I’m being vulnerable. “I do have dinner plans with Tanner and some friends, so I will be having a little fun.”

She giggles, “Oh, Lacey will be so disappointed she wasn’t invited.”

“What about you? Do you have any big plans?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I'll be studying and preparing for a job interview.”

“And you say I’m not any fun?”

“Who said studying couldn’t be fun?” she argues, placing one hand on her hip. She lets out another little giggle, and I can’t help but think how pretty she is when she laughs.

I go to speak, but am interrupted by the clank of keys coming from down the hall. Rusty, our janitor, turns the corner wearing a big smile. “Have a good break,” he says, nodding as he passes us.

Poppy offers him a smile and a small wave. I take the moment to breathe her in. Part of me wishes this moment didn’t have to end. The late afternoon light streams through the windows, making small copper strands visible in her long dark hair.

“Okay, well anyway,” she says, breaking my thoughts. “Try to have a little fun next week. See you later.” She waves and walks away.

On Monday night,I pull my truck into the parking lot and park in front of the valet. I drive a nice truck, but it is nowhere near the level of nice that fills the parking lot of this restaurant. I hand over my key and walk into the dimly lit steakhouse. The hostess smiles as I walk towards the hostess stand.

“Reservation for Peterson.”

“Yes, sir, your party is right this way.”

Party, like more than one person?I follow her to a table where I see my father, my half-brother, and two very young women sitting.Fucking great.I should have known he would blindside me with this bullshit and Jacob. He never answered me.

“Son.”

My dad stands as I approach the table. He stretches out his hand and shakes mine like we are here for a business meeting and are not here to celebrate his birthday.

“Happy birthday, Dad.” I walk over and take the empty seat between him and my half-brother.

Jacob has yet to acknowledge my presence and continues to sit with his head down, scrolling on his phone. He is five years younger than me, making him twenty-four, and is the spitting image of my dad. Tall and blond with gray eyes. I also inherited my dad’s height, but I got my light brown hair and dark eyes from my mom. Both women at the table are beautiful but look younger than my brother. Neither says anything while waiting for my father or brother to introduce them, which they don’t. My dad is too busy flirting with the hostess who walked me over.

I offer them each a smile and clear my throat, “Hi, I’m Logan.”

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