anymore.
“So…he’s an expert on how the Internet brings people closer together?”
“Yeah.”
“And yet…he never even emails you?”
“Not once.”
“So he’s your why.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I am.”
I looked around. The restaurant had nearly emptied out without my noticing. Guys from the kitchen were sweeping floors and putting chairs up on tables, pouring the remains of ketchup bottles one into the other. It was time to go home.
“I wonder what happened to Mason and Christopher?”
“Maybe they went out for a pack of smokes,” she said. “And they’re never coming back.”
—
They were sitting on the hood of Christopher’s car, windows down, radio playing. The night was beautiful. Balmy with a violet sky.
We dropped Daphne off first. She lived in a little box of a house surrounded by a waist-high chain link fence. A postage-stamp-sized front yard littered with plastic toddler toys. A palm tree that listed to the right. She unlocked a metal security gate and then a front door. We waited until she’d closed both behind her before hopping back on the 10. Despite feeling a world away, I was back at my house in twenty minutes.
Mom was at the door when I arrived.
“Who was that?” she asked, watching the taillights of Christopher’s Audi round the corner.
“Friends.”
“I figured they weren’t enemies. I mean, which friends? I don’t recognize that car.”
“Just some guys I know.”
I could tell Mom was trying to set the stage for one of our late-night talks. Leonard’s workday started before sunrise, so he went to bed early like Natalie. Mom and I were night owls. Sometimes we hung out in the kitchen talking way past midnight. Usually we’d eat an entire fourth meal.
“Omelet?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m going to bed.”
She looked disappointed, but I was tired and missing Penny. It was only ten forty-five. We used to stay together until eleven-thirty on Saturday nights, her curfew.
I lay down on my bed in my clothes. I couldn’t help but wonder what Penny had done tonight. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d wondered about me. Maybe she’d stayed home and watched a movie with Ben. Maybe her dad had grilled steaks in the backyard. It had been that kind of night. Whatever she’d imagined when she thought of me, or if she’d even thought of me, I knew she hadn’t pictured me walking nearly five miles to A Second Chance support group for teens. Yup. It was absurd. But Penny believed I didn’t think about things. That I didn’t reflect. So if she’d stretched out on her bed tonight and wondered about me, I doubted she’d imagined I’d spent the evening talking about my battle with drugs to a roomful of strangers and then talking about my father for so long that a restaurant had emptied. I’d done nothing tonight but think. Reflect. Now that I thought back on the past few hours, I regretted how much I’d talked to Daphne. I’d talked so much about myself that I’d never even asked what her father did at his two jobs. I hadn’t asked about her mom. Or her brothers and sisters.
I pulled out my phone. I wanted to text Penny, but I didn’t. For one thing, Maggie had deleted her contact information, not that I didn’t know it by heart, but Maggie thought if I had to take the time to actually dial in Penny’s number, I might stop and realize what I was doing and think better of it.
I texted Daphne. The four of us had exchanged numbers when we’d dropped her off. We’d talked about maybe working out some sort of car pool situation, though I didn’t mention I had no car. Or license.
ME: What does UR dad do?
HER: WTF?
ME: What does UR dad do on his night shifts?
HER: Warehouse worker/baker
ME: Mom?
HER: No, it’s Daphne
ME: Duh. I mean, what does UR mom do?
HER: Housekeeper
ME: What R UR siblings names?
HER: Maria, Miguel, Claudia, Roberto
ME: Thx. G-night Daphne
HER: G-night boy w/ the unforgettable name
When I met Will at the
“So…he’s an expert on how the Internet brings people closer together?”
“Yeah.”
“And yet…he never even emails you?”
“Not once.”
“So he’s your why.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I am.”
I looked around. The restaurant had nearly emptied out without my noticing. Guys from the kitchen were sweeping floors and putting chairs up on tables, pouring the remains of ketchup bottles one into the other. It was time to go home.
“I wonder what happened to Mason and Christopher?”
“Maybe they went out for a pack of smokes,” she said. “And they’re never coming back.”
—
They were sitting on the hood of Christopher’s car, windows down, radio playing. The night was beautiful. Balmy with a violet sky.
We dropped Daphne off first. She lived in a little box of a house surrounded by a waist-high chain link fence. A postage-stamp-sized front yard littered with plastic toddler toys. A palm tree that listed to the right. She unlocked a metal security gate and then a front door. We waited until she’d closed both behind her before hopping back on the 10. Despite feeling a world away, I was back at my house in twenty minutes.
Mom was at the door when I arrived.
“Who was that?” she asked, watching the taillights of Christopher’s Audi round the corner.
“Friends.”
“I figured they weren’t enemies. I mean, which friends? I don’t recognize that car.”
“Just some guys I know.”
I could tell Mom was trying to set the stage for one of our late-night talks. Leonard’s workday started before sunrise, so he went to bed early like Natalie. Mom and I were night owls. Sometimes we hung out in the kitchen talking way past midnight. Usually we’d eat an entire fourth meal.
“Omelet?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m going to bed.”
She looked disappointed, but I was tired and missing Penny. It was only ten forty-five. We used to stay together until eleven-thirty on Saturday nights, her curfew.
I lay down on my bed in my clothes. I couldn’t help but wonder what Penny had done tonight. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d wondered about me. Maybe she’d stayed home and watched a movie with Ben. Maybe her dad had grilled steaks in the backyard. It had been that kind of night. Whatever she’d imagined when she thought of me, or if she’d even thought of me, I knew she hadn’t pictured me walking nearly five miles to A Second Chance support group for teens. Yup. It was absurd. But Penny believed I didn’t think about things. That I didn’t reflect. So if she’d stretched out on her bed tonight and wondered about me, I doubted she’d imagined I’d spent the evening talking about my battle with drugs to a roomful of strangers and then talking about my father for so long that a restaurant had emptied. I’d done nothing tonight but think. Reflect. Now that I thought back on the past few hours, I regretted how much I’d talked to Daphne. I’d talked so much about myself that I’d never even asked what her father did at his two jobs. I hadn’t asked about her mom. Or her brothers and sisters.
I pulled out my phone. I wanted to text Penny, but I didn’t. For one thing, Maggie had deleted her contact information, not that I didn’t know it by heart, but Maggie thought if I had to take the time to actually dial in Penny’s number, I might stop and realize what I was doing and think better of it.
I texted Daphne. The four of us had exchanged numbers when we’d dropped her off. We’d talked about maybe working out some sort of car pool situation, though I didn’t mention I had no car. Or license.
ME: What does UR dad do?
HER: WTF?
ME: What does UR dad do on his night shifts?
HER: Warehouse worker/baker
ME: Mom?
HER: No, it’s Daphne
ME: Duh. I mean, what does UR mom do?
HER: Housekeeper
ME: What R UR siblings names?
HER: Maria, Miguel, Claudia, Roberto
ME: Thx. G-night Daphne
HER: G-night boy w/ the unforgettable name
When I met Will at the
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