Page 24 of Midnights & Mistletoe

It really doesn't take much. I'm addicted to her.

I'm okay with it.

This morning when I woke up alone I immediately wished she was next to me. We've been spending almost every night together. I keep waiting for her to tell me to stay home, to give her some space, but that hasn't happened yet. There were a couple nights we hung out with Theo and we had just as much fun with her friend as we did alone.

Once the school day begins, though, I don't have time to miss her. The kids keep me on my toes. Ordinarily, I keep my phone on silent in my pocket but one of the students called me out on texting on my phone during a test last week. So I've been keeping it off until the end of the day unless I'm not actively teaching.

I have a date with Betty tonight, dinner and Stranger Things at her place. We're into the third season now and she hasn't fallen asleep during an episode since that first night. I'm excited to see her. It's only been a day and a half, but that's long enough in my opinion.

When I walk out to my car at the end of the day, I turn my phone on to check the notifications and am shocked to see four missed calls from my mother. Fear plunges icy fingers into my chest and I dial her back immediately.

Did something happen to Don? Or her? Are they okay? I don't know and the suspense is killing me while I wait for her to pick up her phone. She answers on the second ring.

"Mom?" I ask, panicked, but relieved to hear her voice.

"Oh, August, I'm afraid I might've made your life difficult," she says by way of greeting.

"Are you okay? Is Don alright?" I ask, unable to focus on anything else until I know those two things.

"I'm okay, yes and Don is fine. I'm talking about Betty. How come she didn't know you're my son?!" She demands and my relief turns back to dread in no time flat. She knows. And it's all my damn fault. I can't be mad at Mom for spilling the beans.

I should've told her by now. I waited too long and I didn't know how to do it without pissing her off in the process.

"Fuck," I mutter, beyond civility.

"Language, August. I know you've mucked this up but that's no excuse for foul language toward your mother."

"Sorry, Mom, sorry. I know." I heave out a groan. "How was she? Ya know what, don't tell me, I don't deserve a heads up. I screwed up. Mom, I'm gonna call you later, okay?"

"Fix this, August," she tells me. "She's a good one."

My hands are shaking as I hang up and try to decide how I should proceed. Do I call and let her yell at me?

Will I be lucky enough for her to yell at me?

No, I should face her in person for this. We can work it out, we love each other.

At least, I hope we can.

* * *

When I knock on Betty's door, my heart is hammering in my chest, my stomach aching with nerves. For a split second, I hope that maybe everything can be just as it's been, that everything will be forgiven.

I didn't do it to hurt her...

Maybe she'll open the door with a smile on her face? Maybe she'll let me pull her into my arms and she'll tell me that she understands?

I'm not that lucky. I know I'm not that lucky.

The sight that greets me rips at my insides. Betty's beautiful face is miserable, her eyes swollen and red, her face splotchy. Clearly she's been crying.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I've hurt her. And that's the last thing I ever wanted to do. She doesn't say a word, just opens the door and then walks back to the couch where Oscar is waiting for her.

At least she let me in, maybe that counts for something?

Or maybe I'm grasping at straws...

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