22. Isla

Chapter 22

Isla

CONNER

So . . . you and Asher, huh?

ISLA

Not you too.

CONNER

What? I’m just asking as your loving, supportive brother.

ISLA

More like an annoying brother.

CONNER

Spill the tea, sis.

ISLA

There’s nothing to spill. It’s all a misunderstanding.

CONNER

Sure. That’s why the whole town is buzzing about your passionate declaration of love outside Asher’s apartment.

ISLA

WHAT?!

CONNER

You should see your face right now.

ISLA

You can’t even see my face!

CONNER

I know exactly what you look like.

ISLA

It’s complicated, okay?

CONNER

Now spill about Asher before I text him myself.

ISLA

Promise me you won’t tell anyone.

CONNER

As your brother, I’m legally obligated to torment you, but also keep your secrets. Spill.

ISLA

We are fake-dating.

CONNER

Bet it’s not fake.

ISLA

If you say one word to anyone, I’m showing Elaine that playlist you made titled “Songs that remind me of E.”

CONNER

And I don’t judge YOUR Spotify history, Miss “I’ve Been Listening to Asher’s Gym Playlist on Repeat.”

ISLA

How did you-

Never mind. Truce?

CONNER

Fine.

ISLA

Also, I think I’m going to text Dad back.

CONNER

You sure?

ISLA

No. But I think I need to.

CONNER

Alright. But call me if you need anything.

M y fingers tremble over my phone, the screen’s glow stinging my eyes in the dim room. I tap the contact, hover over the edit button, then type Dad and hit save.

I pace my apartment. Twenty-one years. Twenty-one years since Dad walked out, leaving me clutching that teddy bear, thinking he’d come back for Sunday movie nights. He’d come back for Conner and my birthdays. Or at least write a letter back.

I type, “You don’t get to just—” then jab the delete key, watching the words vanish. I try again. “What do you want—” Nope. Delete. My heart’s racing, and I toss the phone onto my bed like it’s scalding me.

Anger and sadness rise together, hot and sharp in my chest.

ISLA

Why are you reaching out now?

I hit send, my pulse hammering. I collapse onto the lumpy sofa, clutching the phone so tight my knuckles ache.

My phone buzzes, and I flinch.

DAD

I know I don’t deserve to even text you. I’ve made so many mistakes. But I miss you and Conner. I think about you both every day.

My jaw tightens, tears pricking my eyes. He doesn’t get to say that.

ISLA

You didn’t think about us when you left.

DAD

There’s no excuse for what I did. I’d like a chance to apologize properly. Maybe meet you and Conner if you’re ever willing.

I stare at the words, my throat burning. I want to scream, to block his number, to pretend he never existed. But part of me, the part that still misses him, won’t let me.

ISLA

I don’t know.

DAD

I understand. I’ll be here, if you ever want to meet.

I’m sorry.

I drop the phone beside me, pulling my knees to my chest. The room’s too quiet, and my head’s too loud. I don’t know what I want, but I can’t stop staring at his words, wondering if they mean anything at all.

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