Page 135 of Betting on You

He’d told me that on the flight from Fairbanks, but I just hadn’t listened.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINEBailey

The next couple weeks went by in a blur of awfulness.

The apartment became a shell of its former self, with moving boxes strewn all over the place as my mom made frequent trips to Scott’s with things like lamps, candles, and photographs. It no longer looked homey, no longer felt like any sort of refuge; it was just a place to sleep until we moved.

But worse than that was the fact that I was suddenly alone.

Nekesa, the friend who’d always been there for me, was gone. No texts, no calls, no hanging out; I was my only company. I went to school alone, shuffled through my classes, then drove myself home.

I don’t know that I’d ever felt that lonely in my entire life.

I was sure my online friends would be supportive if I messaged them, but everything felt like too much drama to spill to friends lucky enough to be thousands of miles away.

And it exhausted me just thinking about it, so texting about it would be even worse.

I was considering quitting my job, because even that wasn’t the same anymore. I’d transferred to Equipment Check-Out the morning after Applebee’s, because I was too much of a coward to face Nekesa and I didn’t want to ever see Theo or Charlie again, so now I just spent mind-numbingly boring hours on end handing out things like roller skates and snowboards to kids who didn’t look like they washed their hands.

The only good thing was that my dad had started reaching out more. My mother must’ve really given him an earful, because he was back to texting me all the time.

Dad: Guess where I ate last night?

Me: McKennas?

Dad: Lucky guess. I had the Bailey special, btw.

His words made me thinkcow tongue on toast, but I forced myself to concentrate on my father’s reminiscing instead of Charlie’s nonsense.Spaghetti with a side of bologna?

It was what I always ordered at McKennas when I was five years old, and to this day, my dad ordered it every time he visited the restaurant.

It was weird. I was starting to feel less homesick when he talked about my former city, which I supposed was some sort of progress. It was more like seeing a curling old photograph, a soft reminder of another time in my life. I could smile and picture it, but I didn’t feel that desperate desire to fly back immediately and resume my previous life anymore.

That probably meant I was finally accepting that that part of my life was over.

Closure and all that.

Charlie texted me every day, and every day I ignored him.

He’d started with apologies. He peppered me with a slew of apologetic texts and explanations. When I didn’t respond, he switched to sharing funny memes, things we would’ve laughed about together before everything went wrong.

Now he’d moved on to randomI miss youtexts, which always made me want to cry. He wasn’t a romantic guy, so when he texted things likeLook what I found on my phone today—I miss youand included a screenshot of me and his cat—and him—when we’d FaceTimed, it felt like more than a picture.

It felt like he’d felt it too, the magic, and that hurt so much that I started deleting his messages without even reading them first.

Speaking of the cat, my mother delivered Puffball to Charlie’s house like we were people divorcing and exchanging custody of our ward. Puffball was a fucking custody kid, for the love of God, and that full-circle unhappy ending was too depressing for words.

That Thursday night, when I was dying of boredom with an hour left in my shift, I heard someone approaching the Interstellar Equipment Station—aka my little hut.

Please don’t ask for anything.

All I wanted was to mindlessly scroll on my phone and ignore the world.

“Hey.”

I sighed and looked up, only to find Nekesa waiting.

My stomach dropped and my heart started racing; God, I wasnervousto see her.

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