Page 91 of Ecstasy
“Dad,” he says, turning to gaze out the window. His tone is unreadable. I have no idea if he’s happy to hear from his dad or not.
It doesn’t take long to find out.
“Eli,” his dad breathes his name out like a sigh of relief. I stare at his clenched jaw, his white knuckles on the steering wheel.
He doesn’t say anything.
“I sent a few texts,” his dad continues, sounding nervous. I thought he was a lawyer. I didn’t think lawyers got nervous.
Eli still doesn’t respond.
His dad sighs on the other end. A sigh I know too well, because I’ve heard it from my mother enough times to recognize just what it means.I’m tired of your shit but I’m your parent so I’m going to keep trying here.
“I was just calling to remind you of your appointment tomorrow.”
I glance at Eli. He’s still staring out the window. But finally, he says something. “Got it.”
“It’s important you go, Eli, you’ve missed the last two and Dr. Shaw is—”
“I said I got it.”Eli’s voice is quiet, as it always is, but it sounds almost venomous.
I stare straight ahead, try to tune them out. Giving them some kind of privacy. I have the distinct feeling I shouldn’t be listening to this conversation.
I look at the brick walls of Crate & Egg. I imagine my own mother inside, flaunting around with her new nuclear engineer husband, imagining their combined wealth and her temporary rush of happiness.
We’re all addicted to something. Drugs just happen to be illegal.
“Are you feeling okay?” Eli’s father asks, bringing me back to this car.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
The call ends.
Eli doesn’t look at me.
He puts the car in gear, and then drives off, turning the music up loud.
Into the Darkby Point North fills the interior of the car and as we head toward my apartment.
I’m not sure what he’s addicted to, but I have this strange feeling that if it were me, that might not be a good thing at all.
29
Zara
I spendSunday night curled up in bed, knocked out from two doses of NyQuil.
Kylie came home sometime late last night. I heard her knocking on my door but rolled over and jammed a pillow over my head. I’m not ready to confront her on her bullshit.
I didn’t hear from Eli after he dropped me off, apparently wanting to be alone after that phone call I probably shouldn’t have overheard.
Monday and Tuesday pass in a blur, but a decent one. I didn’t bomb my philosophy exam after all. I made a nice, healthy “C.”
Wednesday morning, I wake up to several missed calls from my mother. I don’t call her back, but she’s sent a few texts too, probably knowing I wouldn’t answer.
Probably because she’s called all week, and I haven’t fucking answered.
Mom:We need to talk.
