father and Jimmy moved out a year ago, it would be unbearable.
Out of habit, she turned to her phone for someone or something to counteract the profound sense of emptiness she felt when she was alone. She’d shut it off just before Seth entered the coffee shop yesterday so there’d be no interruptions. There were six messages. The first two were new acquaintances: a pervert she met on the Internet (RP2sexy) and a guy named Matt that she had regrettably given her phone number to on a particularly slow night at The Abyss. The third was a long message from Kyle, her former supervisor and sort-of ex-boyfriend. The sap had gotten transferred to another store so they could date openly at about the same time she’d lost interest. Sounding depressed, he said he really missed their “friendship” and just wanted “to talk,” which was his latest ploy to get her back. Timmy was next, wondering when she was coming home. The fifth was Kyle again, very drunk this time, telling her that Jinx—his Rottweiler and only other friend—missed her too. The last call was Lynn who said she needed to talk ASAP, which meant she was “pregnant” again, a condition that she had managed to be in on a regular basis since the seventh grade without ever having produced a child or even a baby bump.
There should have been return calls from Tiffany and Donna, but they were both pissed off at her, giving her the silent treatment. How petty her life was. Her friends were another of the many subjects she and Seth had talked about. Or rather he’d listened as she complained about them, how her male friends were always trying to sleep with her and how her female friends were always in the midst of some drama that it was getting harder and harder for her to take seriously. Seth had told her that it sounded to him like she was outgrowing them.
“I outgrew them long ago,” she’d said.
“Then why haven’t you moved on?”
She’d never really considered the question, but answered it as honestly as she could. “I don’t know why…but I guess, I’m afraid of being lonely.”
“We’re all lonely sometimes. Filling the time just to fill it won’t help.”
“I know,” she’d said, but realized she was about to do just that by returning the phone calls. Other than Timmy—who was in school now anyway—she didn’t want to talk to any of these people. She took a deep breath and dropped the phone back into her purse. What the hell. She’d give it a try. Pulling into the garage, she was pleasantly surprised and relieved to see Timmy’s car.
“Where have you been?” Timmy asked before she was barely in the door. He stood over the stove, stirring a small pot of ramen noodles, looking at her through the curtain of hair hanging in his eyes.
“Why aren’t you in school?” she asked.
“I’m taking a mental health day,” the sixteen-year-old answered.
She laughed at this.
“Where were you?” he asked again, pulling his hair out of his face. “I called. Why didn’t you answer? Why didn’t you call back?”
“I didn’t get the message until just a few minutes ago,” she said, hanging her coat on the rack by the door and going through the kitchen, heading for her bedroom upstairs.
“I called last night. How could you not get it?” he shouted after her, and then was following her up the steps, his noodles now in a bowl that he was slurping from. “Did you get his name?” he said, trying to sound worldly, like it didn’t bother him when she whored around.
She went into her bedroom and dropped on to the bed. Timmy stood in the doorway. “Toss me the remote,” she said. “Next to the television.”
He picked it up and considered it for a moment, as if he were thinking of blackmailing her with it. Then, he tossed it on the bed beside her. She turned on the television and idly went through the channels. Images of thin, beautiful women flickered by and the mental prattle was there again reminding her that she should go for a
Out of habit, she turned to her phone for someone or something to counteract the profound sense of emptiness she felt when she was alone. She’d shut it off just before Seth entered the coffee shop yesterday so there’d be no interruptions. There were six messages. The first two were new acquaintances: a pervert she met on the Internet (RP2sexy) and a guy named Matt that she had regrettably given her phone number to on a particularly slow night at The Abyss. The third was a long message from Kyle, her former supervisor and sort-of ex-boyfriend. The sap had gotten transferred to another store so they could date openly at about the same time she’d lost interest. Sounding depressed, he said he really missed their “friendship” and just wanted “to talk,” which was his latest ploy to get her back. Timmy was next, wondering when she was coming home. The fifth was Kyle again, very drunk this time, telling her that Jinx—his Rottweiler and only other friend—missed her too. The last call was Lynn who said she needed to talk ASAP, which meant she was “pregnant” again, a condition that she had managed to be in on a regular basis since the seventh grade without ever having produced a child or even a baby bump.
There should have been return calls from Tiffany and Donna, but they were both pissed off at her, giving her the silent treatment. How petty her life was. Her friends were another of the many subjects she and Seth had talked about. Or rather he’d listened as she complained about them, how her male friends were always trying to sleep with her and how her female friends were always in the midst of some drama that it was getting harder and harder for her to take seriously. Seth had told her that it sounded to him like she was outgrowing them.
“I outgrew them long ago,” she’d said.
“Then why haven’t you moved on?”
She’d never really considered the question, but answered it as honestly as she could. “I don’t know why…but I guess, I’m afraid of being lonely.”
“We’re all lonely sometimes. Filling the time just to fill it won’t help.”
“I know,” she’d said, but realized she was about to do just that by returning the phone calls. Other than Timmy—who was in school now anyway—she didn’t want to talk to any of these people. She took a deep breath and dropped the phone back into her purse. What the hell. She’d give it a try. Pulling into the garage, she was pleasantly surprised and relieved to see Timmy’s car.
“Where have you been?” Timmy asked before she was barely in the door. He stood over the stove, stirring a small pot of ramen noodles, looking at her through the curtain of hair hanging in his eyes.
“Why aren’t you in school?” she asked.
“I’m taking a mental health day,” the sixteen-year-old answered.
She laughed at this.
“Where were you?” he asked again, pulling his hair out of his face. “I called. Why didn’t you answer? Why didn’t you call back?”
“I didn’t get the message until just a few minutes ago,” she said, hanging her coat on the rack by the door and going through the kitchen, heading for her bedroom upstairs.
“I called last night. How could you not get it?” he shouted after her, and then was following her up the steps, his noodles now in a bowl that he was slurping from. “Did you get his name?” he said, trying to sound worldly, like it didn’t bother him when she whored around.
She went into her bedroom and dropped on to the bed. Timmy stood in the doorway. “Toss me the remote,” she said. “Next to the television.”
He picked it up and considered it for a moment, as if he were thinking of blackmailing her with it. Then, he tossed it on the bed beside her. She turned on the television and idly went through the channels. Images of thin, beautiful women flickered by and the mental prattle was there again reminding her that she should go for a
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