Page 70 of Not Another Yesterday
“Oh…” I breathe, my eyes fixed to him, my heart pounding like it’s trying to break loose from my ribcage and find a way into his arms.
Tori follows my line of sight and gasps. “You said Ran wasn’t working tonight,” she snaps at her boyfriend.
“He wasn’t supposed to, but he’s adamant about working a double. I’m not just gonna send him home when he wants to be here. Especially right now,” Shane hisses back. “I didn’t know you were planning on bringingCat tonight. Fuck.”
“Kitty Cat, do you want to go somewhere else?” Vada’s voice is soft, her hand gentle on my shoulder. The concern in her eyes nearly undoes me.
I tear my gaze away from Ronan like it physically hurts, like I’m unhooking barbed wire from somewhere deep inside me. I swallow the ache, breathe through the shaking.
“No,” I say, quieter than I mean to, then try again with more strength. “No. I can’t avoid him forever. Especially not with his dad’s wedding coming up.”
I pause, then force a half-hearted smile that even I don’t believe. “Might as well get used to being around him… and nothavinghim.”
I miss him so much. I want to see him, even though it’s painful as hell right now. And maybe a part of me hopes that him seeing me tonight will make him realize how much he misses me, too.
Ronan
My phone vibrates twice in rapid succession from deep within my jeans pocket. I don’t have to retrieve it to know it’s my dad sending me a sharp text message, telling me to call him since I’ve been ignoring him all damn day. He’s tried to call me three times in the last hour alone. He’s been even more difficult to ignore since I ruined the most perfect thing in my life.
I make my way behind the bar, mumbling a quick apology to Jack when I jam past him while he’s in the middle of pouring some fancy purple drink, then set the plastic crate of beer bottles on the nonslip floor. I crouch to stack the bottles on their designated shelf, the glass clanking as I set it down, then yank my phone from my pocket when it vibrates yet again.
Sure enough. My dad’s second-to-last message reads,
Dad:
Call me, Ran!
Then,
Dad:
Ran! Don’t think I won’t call Morai! I will deploy whatever weapons I have in my arsenal.
I can’t believe he’d threaten me like this.
Me:
I’m working. Been working all day. Won’t get off until two. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Maybe. Probably not, though.
I barely manage to pull one bottle from the crate and place it on the shelf before his response comes through.
Dad:
You have until noon tomorrow to get in touch with me or I will call your grandparents.
I shake my head. I get why he’s so antsy. I wasn’t exactly the picture of mental stability in the past, but threatening to get my grandparents involved is a bit much. I hammer out my reply.
Me:
You do know I need sleep, right?
I don’t appreciate being pressured like this, especially by him.
Dad:
Fine, 1400 hrs. And that’s final. Set an alarm if you must, but I swear to god, Ran, if I don’t talk to you again tomorrow, if you keep ignoring me, not answering your phone or your damn door, I’m going to report you missing to the authorities. I don’t play!
