Page 38 of The Way I Am Now
Dad turns back around, opens the door, and leaves.
“For God’s sake,” my mom hisses. “Eden, I’ll be right back. We’ll figure it out—let me just . . .” And then she follows after my dad. I’m left alone, sitting at the table with four half-eaten plates of food.
“I’m going,” I say to no one.
It takes me all night to work up the courage to text him. Ever since that conversation I had with his dad on their front porch, I’ve been trying so hard not to dump all my shit on him. Been trying so hard to be there in caseheneeded me for a change. I’ve tried to ask him so many times how he’s doing, but he hasn’t opened up to me at all. I’ve started to worry maybe our time has just come to an end. That we’ve missed too many chances and have finally run out of them.
I lie on my back, staring at the blur of my ceiling fan, letting it lull me into some kind of weird meditative state. I have to drag my eyes away. I roll to my side, sit up, and take a deep breath, pulling up our texts for the millionth time. If I wait any longer, it’s going to be too late and I’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow.
I know it’s late . . . but can I call?
My phone immediately vibrates in my hand.
JOSH
It rings too many times before she answers, my head already swirling with all kinds of terrible scenarios, too much adrenaline racing through my body.
“Hey,” she says quietly.
“Hi. What’s wrong?”
She laughs, saying, “Okay, why is ‘what’s wrong’ the first thing you say to me?”
I try to analyze her voice. “Sorry. It’s just in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve only ever called me when something’s wrong.”
“Is that true?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I mumble, not wanting her to feel bad, not wanting to think about that phone call again.
“Well, nothing’s wrong, I just”—she inhales deeply and breathes out slowly—“wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”
“Of course. I told you, call me anytime.”
“I know you said that, but—okay, thank you.” She pauses. “Um, is your girlfriend there?”
I never did get around to telling her that we’d broken up. There never seemed to be a time when it wouldn’t come out like I don’t have some ulterior motive of trying to get her to be with me.
“Will she get upset that I’m calling so late?”
“Well,Icalledyou, so . . .” I switch the phone to my other ear, like that might help me think better. “Why, would your boyfriend be upset?” I ask her instead.
“Yeah, probably.” She laughs that perfect laugh of hers—her real one. “If he were still my boyfriend.”
“Oh,” I breathe.
She laughs again, waiting for me to join her, but I can’t.
“Wait, is that true?” I ask before my heart gets too carried away. “You’re not together anymore?”
“Yeah,” she answers. “I mean, yes, it’s true. No, we’re not together anymore.”
“Oh,” I repeat.
“Josh?”
“Sorry. Um, no, the only one who’d be upset we’re talking right now is Harley.” Now it’s my turn to wait for her to laugh, but she doesn’t. “You know, my cat . . . Harley Quinn? Never mind. I’m, uh, actually home right now.”
“Home like at your parents’?” she asks.
