Page 16 of Kiss Collector
Now I’m totally confused. Dean smiles at me when we make eye contact, but I can’t figure out if he said that to play itoff and take suspicion off himself or what.
“Oh my God, this is so cute, I can’t handle it,” Raul says.
“It was you, huh, Raul?” Dean asks him with a smile.
“You know it, babe.” Raul gives him a sexy look and everyone laughs.
“Okay, class, settle down,” Mrs. Warfield says. “And for the record, that’s as risqué as I will allow the poetry to be in my class. Keep it clean.” She winks again, the dirty birdie, and then tells us to open our books.
Needless to say I’m completely distracted the rest of class, which leads into glorious distraction for the rest of the day.
“Dad’s here!” Zeb opens his door while the van is still moving into the spot, and I holler at him, but it’s no use. He jumps out and runs. We haven’t seen Dad in days, but it feels like so much longer.
Uninvited hope rises in my chest as I get out and go inside. I find Dad in the kitchen, putting some of the large travel mugs and his coffee cups into a box. I drop my book bag, my heart dropping with it.
“Hey!” He gives a half smile as Zeb runs into his arms. “How’s my main man?”
“Good.” Zeb looks up at him, eyes full of love.
Dad turns to me, not letting go of Zeb. “Xanderia.”
“Hey,” I say quietly. I glance around at how many more boxes are piled up in the room. Pictures have been taken down and boxed up, the bigger ones leaning in a pile against the wall. Photographs of the four of us together. Will we even be allowed to display those anymore? My chin trembles, andthere’s a sudden burning at the back of my eyes. I swallow and turn away from them.
Mom comes down the stairs and hefts a heavy box onto the kitchen counter. “Here’s your movies and CDs from the bedroom and the last of your dress shoes.”
“Thanks,” he says.
As Mom wipes her hands down her thighs, they look at each other, and the sorrow that looms between them sends a shock wave through the room that makes me choke. I know I’m being dramatic, making things worse, but I can’t help it. I slide down the wall and bury my face in my hands. The sobs that come rack my body. I can’t control the grief that takes over.
This house feels like a tomb. A place where something joyful has died and left behind a gaping chasm of distress and regret. Through my sobs I hear Zeb begin to cry, and Dad consoling him. Then I feel Mom’s arms go around me. She whispers over and over into my hair, “I’m sorry...”
And I believe her, but it doesn’t take away the pain. It doesn’t make things better. It doesn’t give us back our family.
“Why don’t you stay home from school tomorrow?” Mom says to both of us. “Sleep in and get some rest. It’s almost spring break anyway.”
“Yeah,” Zeb quickly agrees.
I look up to see Dad give Mom a disapproving glance for letting us miss school, but he blows out a breath and lets it go.
“I can’t miss school,” I say stubbornly.
“Okay, then.” Mom sounds disappointed that I’ve denied her consolation prize. “Just leave your phone for Zeb if he stays.”
“Fine.” I push to my feet and get away from them.
A ding wakes me in the middle of the night. It took me forever to get to sleep. I immediately smell the must of boxes and dust, and my heart fills with the wretched feelings that kept me awake to begin with.
I look at my phone and nearly scream. It’s two in the morning.
Wylie:I’m sorry about your parents.
Wy heard the news. I’m not surprised with how fast the gossip mill works between our schools.
Oh my God, my heart. I could so easily go to him for comfort. He was always good at making me feel better, making me laugh, cuddling me; and he was there for me the past year while my parents fought. Then I remember what’s-her-face, and how he told her we broke up so he could get with her, and those comforting vibes are chased away.
I text him back:Thx.
His response is immediate.I miss u.
