“Cyn?” he asks. I fight an eye roll. The man has been dating my mother for all of ten weeks, but apparently, he should be protecting her from her own daughter.
“We’re good, Jim,” I repeat.
He chucks his chin at me. “You causing trouble again?”
Oh, Jesus. And what does thatagainmean? I wasn’t even here for months.
As I look at the two of them, a heavy, dreadful fatigue hits me. I don’t think I even have it in me to fight anymore. It won’t change anything. Without another word, I turn back toward the house.
“We’re lettin’ you live here, but we don’t have to,” Jim says behind me. “Remember that.”
For Josie. You’re doing this for Josie.
I reach the spring door, then run to the bathroom and lock myself in. I don’t know how I'm going to survive another week like this.
I force myself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t matter that my own mother doesn’t want me here or that my family seems straight out of a drama series. I’m happy. I’m safe. I’m going back to training soon. Competition season’s starting.
I’ll be okay.
Once I feel calm enough, I reach for the door, but something pulls at my attention. My phone’s vibrating. I pick it from my pocket and see Finn’s name on the screen with an incoming call.
Shit. I can’t talk to him now. I still feel like my throat’s about to close up. He’ll hear in my voice that something’s wrong. Somehow I know he will. I wait until the call goes to voicemail.
Not even thirty seconds later, a text message comes in.
Finn: You said you’d call every day.
Me: I’m okay, just not in the mood to talk.
Of course, he doesn’t leave it at that.
Finn: What’s wrong?
I answer honestly.
Me: Everything?
Finn: Please answer my call?
Me: I’m okay, I swear. Just in a crappy mood.
Finn: I could make you smile if you answer. Bet ??
Finn: What about if I ate something really disgusting while on the phone and you heard me gag? Isn’t that your favorite thing on earth?
I smile. He doesn’t need to call me to succeed.
Me: I know you could. Later?
Finn: Fine.
Finn: I don’t like it.
Finn: But fine.
Finn: Call me whenever. I mean it, Crabby.
Me: I know you do. x
