Page 109 of The Fall Classic
“I don’t know what it would be like to grieve alone.”
“It sucks,” she says, shrugging. “But I don’t think that’s unique.”
“Where was your dad? Is he still in the picture?”
“He’s always been in the picture—he just never sticks around after it’s taken,” she says with a snort that’s foreign coming from her. We’ve logged a lot of hours talking, but I’ve never heard her talk like this: so dark and open, but without seeming vulnerable.
“My dad’s a medical-device salesman,” she says. “It’s a demanding job. Plenty of people make it work with their families, though. My dad doesn’t care enough about other people to put in that effort.”
“So has he not been around since your mom passed?”
“Not as much as he should. He left the day after my mom’s funeral for ten days. He was crying when he gave me a kiss, but he said the best thing we could do was keep going.”
“He left?”
“Yeah, he left me with my grandparents, but they died in a car accident about ten months later, and shortly after, he met Marlowe.
“Am I allowed to hate your dad for leaving you like that?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but thank you for doing it anyway.”
Her smile looks like it was carved into hollow wood.
“What about Marlowe?” I ask.
“She does not hate my dad. She’s crazy about him.”
“Not you?”
Georgie looks up and away. “I think she sees me as the competition.”
I suck breath in between my teeth, and Georgie looks back at the screen. “This is probably more ‘Sassy Georgie’ than you bargained for.”
I hate hearing her downplay her own sorrow. “I’m here for all of it. Whatever you need.”
Her smile feels more real now. She twists so she’s resting the side of her head on her couch. “You’re going to make this separation really hard, aren’t you?”
“I can’t let you forget me.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to.” She exhales. “I don’t want to.”
“Me either.”
Her eyes flit to the corner of the screen and she sighs. “I hate to go, but I have homework and a 4:23 AM wake-up call with my name on it.”
“Talk tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
“I like you.”
Her smile reaches her dimples, and I can finally settle. “Even better.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Logan
Iprobably shouldn’t be texting right before the game starts, especially when I’m supposed to leave the locker room within the next two minutes, but …
