Page 103 of The No Touch Roommate Rule
I get through security and park myself near a Cinnabon, scrolling mindlessly on social media until the sickeningly sweet smell of the icing starts to make me queasy. Then I sit by the gate, where a pair of toddlers run in circles, shrieking with happiness over some game only the two of them understand.
Eventually, they call boarding group C, and I find my seat—27F, window—and buckle in. The safety demonstration plays.
In case of an emergency, put on your own mask first before helping others.
Solid advice. Should have thought of that before I tried to play hero.
I leave switching my phone to airplane mode until the last possible moment before takeoff, but as we muscle into the air at the end of the runway, there are still no texts.
Somewhere down there, Parker’s back to living his life without me, like the past two weeks never happened. But, of course, he is. It was just two weeks. Only an idiot lets herself getthisemotionally attached in two weeks.
Only fools fall this fast.
I close my eyes and let the plane carry me away from another failed attempt at finding my place, wondering if these chapters of my life are ever going to have a happy ending.
If the past is any indication of the future…
Probably not.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
PARKER
The ancient fold-out bed dominates Nana’s living room like a ship that lost its way at sea. She’s propped up, working her way through the grilled chicken I picked up on the way back from the hospital. The TV murmurs on low, some reality show where people win money by turning on each other, which feels fitting after the day we’ve had.
I shift in the armchair, my shoulders still burning from the stress.
The hours pacing the hall outside her hospital room…
The look on my father’s face when he told me I was “dead to him,” sometime around three o’clock, when he finally realized that he wasn’t going to get his way…
Hereallythought he was going to be able to convince me to shut up and go along if he just kept at me long enough.
To be fair, I’ve never stood up to him like this before. But then he’s never threatened someone I love before, either.
The thought makes me wince.
Speaking of people I love…
I have to call Makena as soon as I get Nana settled for the night. I pull out my phone, glancing down at the screen, but there’s still no reply to the texts I sent an hour ago, explainingthat things got worse after she left and apologizing for not texting sooner.
But maybe she’s still in the air.
I’m not sure what flight she was on. She didn’t say.
Probably because she hates you now, the inner voice supplies, making me wince again.
“You can stop pretending you’re watching this foolishness,” Nana says, wiping her fingers on her faded cloth napkin. “Your good leg’s been bouncing for ten minutes straight.”
I still my knee. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” She drops the napkin onto her plate, turning her sharp gaze my way. “Today was ugly. No sense pretending otherwise.”
My throat tightens.
She knows. Of course, she knows.
