Page 19 of Wanted You More

As I make myself a sandwich for dinner, I can’t help but wonder if I finally pushed them too far. It was bound to happen eventually. Dad has been leaving me alone more and more lately, which I like. But maybe I shouldn’t. Because maybe that’s his way of giving up.

When was the last time I asked how his day was? Or asked how he was feeling? He asks me those things all the time. Most times, I’ll give him one-word responses before going to my room, smoking a joint, and then sneaking out the window for the night.

Biting into my BLT, I grab my phone and head into the living room to put something on the TV. The only positive thing about my family being gone is being able to watch trash television without getting judged. Although, I’ll see both my dad and brother occasionally look interested in whatever drama is unfolding on the reality show I’ll have on the screen.

I’m halfway done with my sandwich and a third of a way into the show I’ve got on when my phone lights up with a name I haven’t seen on there in a long time. Just as I’m about to pick it up, the doorbell goes off, and someone starts knocking on the door. Panic creeps into my chest as I stare down from Benjamin Kingsley’s name on the screen to whoever is standing on the other side of the front door.

Slowly, I make my way toward one of the little curtained windows on either side of the door to peel it back, revealing the youngest Kingsley boy standing on the step. Swallowing, I undo the locks and try fighting the swell of burning tears that want to escape my eyes.

When I throw the door open, Noah looks alarmed at the distress on my face. He steps into the house instantly, doing a thorough once-over to check for any injuries. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

I touch my cheeks and notice the damp streaks, not realizing I’d started to. “I-I just…” My eyes go down to my phone. “Your dad called, and then you showed up, so I thought something happened to my…”

Blinking past the blurriness from the tears, I realize he’s not in his uniform. He must have gotten off work early, has the day off, or hasn’t started his shift yet. Most of his schoolwork is online, so he tries to pick up as much work as possible to keep his student debt down while he attends classes.

Swallowing, I ask, “Why are you here? Your dad hasn’t called in a while, and when I got home from detention, my dad and brother were gone, so I assumed the worst-case scenario.”

Noah curses and closes the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Dad said he needed to reach out to you, and I wasn’t sure you’d pick up. I was on my way home and figured I’d swing by in case you were going to ignore his call again.”

I cringe, knowing he has a right to wonder if I’d answer.

Noah stands a little taller, crossing his arms across his chest. “Wait. Why did you get detention? Didn’t you just have it?”

How does he know that? “Are you keeping tabs on me or something?” When he doesn’t answer, my eyes narrow into suspicious slits. “Oh my God. You are! Who are you bribing to butt into my business?”

Those annoyingly pretty blue eyes roll with dry humor. “Don’t be dramatic, Austen. It’s not a flattering look. And if you really want to know, your dad asked me to keep an eye out on you. I know a couple people at the school who are family friends, so they tell me things if they feel they’re important.”

My dad?I would have never guessed that was the person responsible. “I didn’t know Dad said anything to you.”

Noah leans his back against the door and crosses one ankle over the other as he stands there. “Your father loves you and hates watching you spiral. When you started getting into more trouble at the end of summer he was concerned. He reached out to me because he knows we talk.”

I snort at that stretch of information. “Did you tell him we don’t?”

“I told him,” he replies easily, ignoring my clipped tone, “that I would keep an eye out for him. You do realize that the school is only going to tolerate so much before they suspend you or worse, right?”

This isn’t the lecture I was anticipating today—at least not one from Noah. “I fell asleep a couple times in class. It isn’t like I called in a threat. I wasn’t caught smoking in the bathrooms. I haven’t punched anyone. You’re making it into something it’s not.”

“Am I?” he doubts, expression firm with disappointment that hits me in the stomach more than I want it to. “Look, you and I both know your father doesn’t enjoy talking to mine. I won’t bring up the reasons why again since that went so well last time.”

His sarcasm over our last real face-to-face interaction has me glaring at him.

It doesn’t stop him from continuing. “The fact that he reached out because he’s concerned should mean something to you. You love your family. Look at how freaked out you were tonight just because I showed up.”

What else would I be? “Is it such a shock that I love my family, Noah? I may not have the relationship you do with yours, but that doesn’t mean I want anything to happen to them.”

His brows slowly arch. “Then don’t you think you should extend the same courtesy to your father? That way he doesn’t have to worry about something happening to you?”

No response I come up with will be good enough, so I rub my lips together and glance over to the show aimlessly playing on the TV.

Noah changes the subject. “My dad wanted to talk to you because there’s a new campaign in the works with a few government officials who want to get in contact with victims of gun violence. They’ve been calling around, wanting information on you and your family.”

“Why?”

“It’s election season,” he answers, lifting his shoulders. “The primaries are happening soon, so they’re doing pushes on hot topics like gun control. It’s the same bullshit, different election year. There are always going to be politicians who want to benefit from the trauma of others. Dad heard through the grapevine that your name has popped up a few times for interviews, especially since the rally this summer. You were there, so people feel like you’re finally speaking up.”

If Ben heard that, he also would have shut it down by now. It also means there’s a chance we’ll have to start screening calls again. “Well, thanks for letting me know. I’ll tell Dad, unless you want to, since you two are best buddies now.”

Noah’s nose does that little twitch it always does when he’s getting irritated. It makes me almost smile, knowing I got under his skin.

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