Page 9 of Bending Under Pressure

Me: He lives two hours away. I don’t seem him as often as I’d like, but he’s coming to have dinner with me tomorrow

Dad is probably lonely. I mean, Mom has Walter. Who does he have? No one because I’m here with them. Once again, I wonder why he didn’t want me to stay. Mom doesn’t need me, but I wasn’t exactly given a choice.

Keelan: That sucks, but it’s good you’ll be able to see him then. Do you think you’ll like it here?

Will I? Jess seems pretty cool. Keelan does too; plus, he’s cute. School doesn’t seem half bad either.

Me: It has potential. :)

I texted Dad Elsie’s exact address, so he could put it in his GPS and get here with no problem. I’ve been buzzing with excited energy all day. Even now, sitting in a booth, I can’t stop fidgeting.

“What can I get you, dear?” Elsie asks.

“Nothing yet. I’m waiting on someone.” I give her a big smile because I’m just too happy. It’s been so long since I’ve seen my dad, and I get to spend a couple of hours with him tonight. The best part is I didn’t even have to ask him to come! He offered!

I glance at my phone and see it’s seven o’clock. He should be here any minute now. My eyes are trained on the door, waiting for it to open with a ding and Dad to walk through. I wonder what he’s been up to without us there. I wonder if he misses me; of course he does because he wanted to see me today.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? Not even a drink?” Mrs. Elsie asks when she returns.

I shake my head. “No, he should be here soon.”

My gut is telling me he won’t show. He’s already fifteen minutes late. I pick my phone and call him, but he doesn’t answer. I try texting him, but again, no response. God, he can’t be doing this to me again. Maybe he’s lost and he’s trying to focus on getting here. Maybe he’s had an accident, or maybe he’s running behind because someone else had an accident. He’s going to come. He’s running late, that’s all.

I wait thirty more minutes, not wanting to give up. My throat is burning, my eyes are watery, and when a tear manages to escape, I quickly wipe it away. Where is he? I pick up my phone and try calling him once again.

Finally, he answers.

“I’m sorry, Haley. I got caught up at work and am just now leaving. I won’t be able to make it.”

The door dings as it opens, and I see Keelan walking in. His eyes immediately find mine and he begins to walk my way. Why is he here? “It’s okay. Maybe next time,” I tell Dad. “I should go. Bye.” I hang up, not even feeling a little guilty for not saying I love him. “What are you doing here?” I ask when Keelan sits down across from me.

“Mrs. Elsie called the house and wanted to know why I was standing you up.” My brows wrinkle in confusion. “She thought you were meeting me here. I decided to come check on you since it sounded like your dad didn’t make it. Do you want to come to my house? Mom already fixed you a plate.”

While I don’t really want company, I definitely do not want to go home yet. That would let my mother know she was right. “I would like that.”

Mrs. Elsie was ready to tear me a good one when she called the house. She said Haley was sitting in one of her booths, near tears, waiting on me. I guess since I showed up with her once and since Haley said she was waiting on him, Mrs. Elsie assumed it was me. I don’t know what happened with her dad, and I don’t ask. Haley follows me to the house and I lead her into the kitchen where Mom is making a cake.

“Thanks for dinner,” Haley says when Mom hands her a plate of hot food.

“Any time.” Mom smiles at her. She starts asking Haley about school and tennis. Keeping the conversation light and simple. Mom always has a knack for knowing what people need. When Haley finishes, Mom tells her she can stay for cake, if she’d like.

“C’mon, Haley.” I take her hand and lead her up to my room, releasing her hand once we’ve stepped inside. I take a seat on the far side of my bed, leaning against the headboard with my legs stretched out. Haley looks unsure for a moment before slipping off her shoes and sitting next to me with her legs crisscrossed.

She runs her fingers over my comforter before glancing at me. “Nice room.”

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Cam?”

“With Jess. He’ll be home soon.”

I want to suggest that we should kiss because damn, her lips are perfect, and I bet I’d think so even more if I could kiss her. Why does she have to be so pretty? Of course, I won’t now because she obviously hasn’t had a good evening.

“So, can I ask you something about yourself?” she asks, and I lift my gaze from her lips to her eyes.

“Go ahead.”

“During roll call in science, Mr. Roberts said your last name is Moore and Cam’s is Giddings.” She stops and waits for me to explain.

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