Page 46 of Falling Backwards
Currently, I try to shake it all off and focus on my mom saying our night sounds fun.She appreciates the reminder that my friends and I never drink and drive, and she’s interested in what I’m thinking of wearing.
And after we’ve discussed a couple of outfit options, she asks, “Do you think Luke will be there too?”
It’s so surprising it makes my pulse skip.
I don’t know why he would show up since this isn’t a weekend night.Out of habit, I hope he won’t.Our shared shift yesterday didn’t improve after the cell phone argument.In fact, at one point I tripped on the way to seat someone in the bar area and he busted out laughing, so I went over and quietly bustedhimfor something green being in his teeth, and things were extra sour from then on.
“I don’t know,” I answer my mom honestly.
“Hmm.”
Am I imagining the weight in that little hum?
I’m not sure.Although I’ve told her about my encounters with him at work and at the bar, she doesn’t know he’s the guy who turned my life upside down when I was sixteen.At the time, I let her in on some of what happened—divulged that a boy I thought I’d found something special with had turned out not to like me after all—but I was too hurt and embarrassed to give all the details.Even my version of revenge hadn’t improved my mood enough to get me to tell her everything.I just wanted to move on the best I could.
But yes, she knows I see Luke at the bar more often than not, and she knows how much he irritates me.
Maybe her hum is just her way of silently adding hope tomyhope that he won’t find a way to ruin my night.
I hear my dad’s jovial voice in the background, causing my thoughts to lift.She switches her end of the call to speakerphone and the topic of our conversation switches back to catching up.
After a few minutes, he asks, “So you’re doing okay, baby girl?Happy?Safe?”
His check-in warms my heart.“Yeah, I’m okay, Daddy.Even better now that I’ve talked to you and Mama.I love you both so much.”
“We love you!”they say in unison.
My mom adds, “Send us a picture of you and the girls later!”
“And a picture of whatever you eat,” he tacks on.
We all laugh.I get my snacky ways from him.
“Will do and will do,” I promise them.
It makes all of us a little sad to end the call after another minute, but I need a shower and they’ve got other stuff to get to.Definitely helps that they promptly text me a picture of them blowing me a kiss—I laugh and send one back, then ask why our goofy selves didn’t think to video chat during our call.My mom sends a bunch of the mind-blown emojis, which makes me laugh so much my tired back muscles start cramping in one spot.
It’s okay with me, though.Laughter is good for you.
I’m looking forward to laughing with my friends later on.
—
Something I love about the girls is that they are always unapologetically themselves.
Case in point: Joy is wearing a gold prom-looking gown and a tiara where she sits next to me in a booth at Merritt’s, and Emma has just stopped our enthusiastic sing-along to “Hands Down” to look over and tell off a drunk woman at a nearby tall table, who has been loud the whole time we’ve been here and who has started mocking our bubbly friend’s outfit.
“And who goes around making rude comments about people’s clothes?”Emma asks sharply.“Pathetic people who need to mind their own business, that’s who.Mind your business, lady.”
The woman points at her with the hand already holding her drink.I watch the glass slip an inch.“I’m not pathetic!I’m telling truth—tellingthetruth to your friend!Someone needs to say it!”
“What someoneneedsto do is get you a glass of water, ’cause—”
“You just look desperate for attention!”the woman cuts over to Joy.“Attention whore!Dress like a normal person!”
Emma sucks in a breath like she considers those to be fighting words.She moves, clearly about to get out of the booth, and I try not to spill my mojito from laughing.
“Aw, Em, it’s okay!”Joy says easily.“Don’t bother with her!”
