Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’m startled awake by a tugging sensation. It’s dark and still and there are hands on me. I immediately swing out, trying to protect myself.
“Shhh. It’s just me,” says Lukas, holding up his hands to calm me.
Mentally I recognize him, but my body is taking a little longer to calm down. My heart is racing and I’m still processing where I am.
“We wanted to carry you inside without waking you up,” says Lukas, again trying to shove his hands between me and the seat. “We thought it would be romantic.”
“Maybe next time, romantically wake me up instead.” Even though they terrified me and as I’m not their girlfriend, I don’t require romance, it’s a sweet thought so I suppose I should give them some leeway for their intention.
But now that I’m awake, I’m not going to let him try to carry me. I’m fully capable of walking inside on my own.
I look up once I’m out of the car and realize we’re at their house.
“You could have dropped me back off at my dorm room.” I would have thought them wanting to sleep in their own beds again meant they were ready to go back to their normal routine, and have a little break from all the extra people they’ve had to worry about this weekend.
“Then you wouldn’t be here,” says Sebastian, holding open the front door for me.
I can’t help but smile as I step inside and see my purse already hanging on a hook by the door. I don’t remember that hook being there last time I visited. And my suitcase and school bag sit right below it.
But I don’t want the guys to see how much it means to me that they added a hook just for me.
In a few months they’re going to graduate and this whole arrangement will end, and it won’t matter if I think it’s sweet or not.
I pull my phone out of my purse, letting my hair swing down to hide my face so they don’t see all these thoughts flitting across it.
There are six missed calls from my mom from the past hour, and a long string of text messages asking where I am and why I’m not responding to her. I obviously can’t wait until morning to respond, even though it’s late.
“Is everything okay?” asks Felix, concern in his voice as he sets his hand on my shoulder.
I look up at him, preemptively exhausted from the conversation I’m about to have. “Yeah, I just need to call my mom.”
“Okay. I’ll bring your suitcase upstairs for when you’re ready,” says Felix.
“Thanks. I’ll be up shortly.” I go into the living room, preparing for the mental gymnastics I’m going to have to do for this conversation.
Mom is always so worried over Dad, and I’m so tired of pointing out to her how Dad takes advantage of her and doesn’t respect her. She’s making so many choices I hate and can’t support that it makes it hard to listen to her complaining.
“We can wait for you,” says Elliot, trying to hide a yawn.
“No, no, it’s fine. I shouldn’t be too long.” At least, I hope not. There’s no need to keep the guys up, especially when I napped in the car and they didn’t.
Not to mention, I don’t really want them to see how dependent my mom is on my dad.
It’s not a good look and she’s not their problem, she’s mine.
I don’t want them involved in something so personal either.
If we were dating, maybe, but with the relationship we have, I don’t need to bring them into it.
When they have all headed upstairs, I stretch out on the sofa. If I have to withstand this phone call, I might as well be comfy.
My mom picks up on the first ring. “Why did it take you so long to call me back?”
“What’s wrong, Mom?” There’s no sense in telling her about the speedcubing competition.
She’s never going to meet the guys, and she doesn’t actually care about the reason, she only cares that I didn’t answer when she wanted me to.
And if I tell her I was sleeping, she won’t care.
If she’s up with worry, she thinks I should be too.
“Your dad still isn’t home from work,” she complains, panic in her voice. “I’ve called him and texted him, but his phone is off. I called his office and no one is picking up. What if he was in an accident and he’s hurt somewhere?”
I knew it would be something like this. It always is. “I’m sure he’s fine and he’ll be home soon.” After he’s done with whichever other woman he’s sleeping with this week.
“No, I’m certain he’s not fine. Otherwise he’d be home in his own bed already,” she says. “I’ve called all of the local hospitals and he’s not there, but when I called the police to report him missing, they said I had to wait. They’re never helpful when I call. It’s like they don’t even care!”
I don’t bother pointing out that she calls them almost every week to report him missing and he never is.
He’s always just avoiding coming home. I don’t understand why, either.
Mom is a complete doormat and does everything for him, thinks he walks on water.
Yet Dad is always running around with other women behind her back.
The last time I tried explaining to Mom why Dad wasn’t coming home on time, she accused me of lying and trying to ruin her life.
“Is there anything else you can do in the meantime while you wait for him to come home?” I ask. Sometimes I can get her to distract herself. But tonight doesn’t appear to be one of those times.
Felix peeks his head around the corner into the living room, rubbing his eyes and looking exhausted. “Everything okay?” he mouths.
“It’s fine. I’ll be up soon,” I whisper back, blocking the phone with my hand so Mom doesn’t hear me.
Half-listening to her freak out about Dad is preferable to letting her know I’m spending time with a guy.
Although she’s so worked up about Dad not being home yet, and from my not having answered earlier, that I’m not sure she could be sidetracked at this point anyway.
Felix just nods a little and pads back up the stairs. I wish I could do the same, but Mom is still ranting and doesn’t sound like she’s ready to stop quite yet.
Suddenly, my mom’s tone changes. “Oh, there, he’s just pulling into the driveway,” she says, her voice a mix of relief and excitement. “He probably just had a flat tire and I was worrying for nothing.”
“Oh, good,” I say, even though I’m completely over this conversation and was never once worried about his safety.
But I’m not sure Mom even hears me, because she’s already hung up to go run out to my dad and fuss over him. She’ll ignore the smell of another woman’s perfume on him and heat up a plate of the dinner she made for him hours ago.
But it’s not my problem. And I’m going to make sure that I’m never in that position, completely dependent on a man for my happiness.
No matter how many times I’ve told her to walk away, she won’t.
She doesn’t know how to exist without him, and she wouldn’t have a way to support herself even if she did.
When I get to the top of the stairs, I can see my toiletry bag set out on the bathroom counter for me.
That was very sweet of them to do. I get ready for bed as quietly as I can, wondering whose bed I’m supposed to be in tonight.
I would assume Felix’s since he’s the one who came down to check on me earlier, but what if I’m wrong?
There’s only one way I can think of to find out without waking one of them up.
I’ve put it off joining the group calendar long enough. I click the link to accept the invitation Lukas sent and pull it up. I was right, I’m scheduled to sleep in bed with Felix tonight. So I turn off the bathroom light and quietly cross the hall to his room, doing my best not to wake him up.
As soon as I pull the blankets over me, though, Felix reaches out and pulls me closer until he’s molded around me, his soft breath ruffling my hair.
The next afternoon, the guys drop me off at work. I hug each of them goodbye in the parking lot and trail my suitcase behind me as I head inside.
The back of my neck prickles as I push the elevator call button. I can sense Brad approaching. I recognize the slap of those shoes and the whiff of arrogant cologne, but I refuse to turn around and acknowledge him.
I’m just stepping onto the elevator when Brad puts his hand between the doors to hold it for himself, stopping me from having this short ride in peace.
His stupid face looks so smug as he follows me into the elevator, no hello or anything.
Just the confidence that everyone will wait for him and everything will go his way.
I really don’t like him. Or the way he side-eyes my suitcase.
As soon as the doors open at our floor, I exit the elevator, forcing myself to walk calmly to my desk so as not to give Brad the satisfaction of knowing he unnerves me.
I stow my little suitcase under my desk as I did last time, but tuck it even farther back.
No one asked any questions about it before, but a second time might make people ask questions I’m not prepared to answer.
I log into the computer I use and pull up my email.
Maybe today will finally be the day that something gets assigned to me.
There’s only one email, which I open excitedly only to find it’s just a note from HR thanking all of us interns.
It features quotes from a few of the different departments calling out how appreciative they are of us, and there’s a note at the bottom stating that we should be keeping an eye out for job openings so we could potentially continue on with this newspaper after graduation.
That’s my dream, but right now it feels like the biggest hurdle.
It doesn’t escape my notice that my department is the only one without a quote from management.
My professors all rave about the articles I’m writing for class, and if Carl just gave me a chance, I’m sure he’d see he should put me to better use than just brewing coffee and delivering paperwork.