Page 89 of Wanted You More

He’s interested in her then.

It’s a tiny shred of truth that I needed to hear, no matter how much it hurts. But if Wolfe is going to accept it, I have to too.

For some reason, I feel the need to share a little information to ease Dad’s worries. “I’m taking a journalism class next semester.”

He blinks. “Really?”

I nod. “When Kennedy and I were hanging out in the student lounge, I saw that the school newspaper was looking for more student writers. It got me thinking about the stuff that was coming out about me. How it made me feel.”

Dad’s lips twitch.

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I guess I think it’d be cool to contribute something positive for once. Not writing to rip people apart, but to bring them together somehow.”

A warm smile tilts his lips. “I think that’s a great idea, pumpkin.”

***

There are waymore presents resting under the tree than I expect. Wolfe has already started unwrapping his, revealing a few new video games, some shirts with anime characters on them that I bought him, and a cologne set that’s undoubtedly from Aunt Mae since she always buys the same thing every year.

I ruffle his hair as I drop down beside him, crossing my legs under me. “Merry Christmas, dweeb. I see Mae told you that you smell again.”

He shoves a familiar package into my hands that has her name on it. “You’ve got one too. We both know it’s that weird smelling cucumber melon lotion set she always gets you.”

When I rip open the wrapping paper, we both break into laughter when we see the scented lotion, body mist, and ChapStick sitting inside the festive box.

“Where’s Dad?” I ask. The kitchen is dark, so I know he isn’t in there cooking. I don’t smell any breakfast, which makes my rumbling stomach a little sad.

Wolfe frowns. “He said he had a headache, so he went to lie down for a little while. I asked him if we could open our presents before I started.”

Maybe I should check on him. Dad’s headaches usually turn into bad migraines that last days. “Do you know if he took something for it? We both know he forgets to do that.”

He thinks about it. “I’m pretty sure I saw him take something. I don’t remember. I wanted to see if he got me the new Need for Speed game. He did.”

I roll my eyes and push him playfully as I stand up. “You’re such a dork. I’m going to check to see if he’s okay. Did you eat?”

“There are cinnamon buns on the counter that he picked up from the store yesterday,” he calls out as I head toward the stairs.

They aren’t nearly as good as the homemade ones we used to make every Christmas morning, but I’m too hungry to care about how certain traditions fade.

Dad’s door is cracked open enough to let me see him sleeping on his bed. He has a cloth on his face, the shades down, and curtains drawn to block the light.

I don’t dare wake him up to see if he took medication, so I quietly close his door and head back down to grab food and join my brother.

There’s a pile of presents where I’d been sitting that are all addressed to me. “Those are yours. The Kingsleys dropped some off last night when you were sleeping. Dad almost didn’t see them because nobody waited. They just knocked.”

My brows furrow as I dig through my pile until I find one name in particular. Why would Noah drop anything off when he spent months ignoring me? “That’s what he did on my birthday,” I say aloud, voice a notch above a whisper as I move my fingers over the box.

It’s wrapped in silver paper and a pretty purple ribbon. He couldn’t have done it—it was done for him. This is too neat. Too professional.

I take my time undoing the ribbon and tearing the packaging, nervous about what’s underneath for some reason. When I see the logo of the little box revealed, my lips part in shock.

It’s from the jewelry store at the mall.

All I can do is stare, wondering if this is what he bought that day. Or did he buy something else for Bailey?

“What is it?” Wolfe asks, butting into my thoughts to look over my shoulder. “Why haven’t you opened it? It’s not like it’s a ring or something.”

I close my eyes.

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