and when I looked up he was walking toward me.
“Hey David, congrats on the win,” I said
“I usually suck, I think you made me lucky or something.” He smiled when he said this, and his right hand found its way into my left.
“You played really well, even better than I was expecting.” Ana was much better at flirting than Sydney was.
“Well thanks for coming, you look amazing.”
I took a second to mentally scan my outfit: faded jean shorts, a simple red V-neck. Nothing special. “Thank you.”
“So how did you get here, did you drive?”
“Oh, no I walked, it’s really close, my house is like nowhere from here.” Realizing I had told the girls I’d be picked up, my eyes fluttered around the dark parking lot, stopping at every petal of light on the ground below each streetlight. I avoided his stare.
“It’s dark out, let me take you home.” Sometime during my frantic glancing across the parking lot, he’d moved closer to me. He pulled my chin to face him, and Sydney banged on my insides, pulling me away from him as I stepped back. Thankfully, Ana played it off as a flirty game, but I was slipping too much. Reassuringly, he laughed quietly and slowly dropped his hand from my face.
“Maybe another time,” I said. “Congratulations again, I’ll see you later?”
He sighed and nodded as his mouth poked out, understanding Ana’s game. “Yeah, definitely.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Goodnight, Ana.”
“Night, David.”
He watched me walk away for a while before turning to head to his car, where a few of the guys waited for him. I gave one more wave goodbye before I turned the corner.
* * *
The streets looked a lot less pleasant without daylight, and eventually everyone else who walked home from the game had veered off to their homes while I walked on. A few lurkers hobbled by, sniffing as I passed. Could I do this for a year? Two? Loneliness was one thing when it meant boredom, a much more serious thing when it meant fear and danger. I’d been searching for a better solution all week but ended up back in the shack every night.
And soon, I was back in the shack, and at least the air was cool. I turned on the flashlight to find my hairbrush in my bag, and had pulled it out to start brushing, when the phone rang.
David. I decided I had talked to him enough that night, so I let it ring. It rang until it stopped, only to start ringing again three seconds later. I moaned, and then chuckled at his persistence.
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound busy.
“Hi ho little one.”
Dad greeted me like that since I was little. He’d wake me up in the mornings before school. He would shake my belly and say “Hi ho little one” when I woke up. “Hi ho Daddy” I’d answer. Then he’d say, “Rise and shine, its wakey-wakey time,” and I’d groan, but eventually giggle.
This time I didn’t want to giggle, or groan. I just wanted to bawl and scream and break things—innocent things. I wanted to hurt someone or something and get this ridiculous feeling out from inside of me. No words I could have said would have quenched the rage. So I didn’t speak.
“Sydney, you there?”
After a few seconds, I took a deep breath. “Yeah, what do you need?” I held back tears with every word and every breath.
“I miss my daughter, and I just wanted to check and see how things are with you up there in North Carolina, since we haven’t talked in a few days. Things aren’t the same without you here, kid.”
How could he be talking like this, like the old Dad? What kind of sick joke could he be playing on me that would make him try and act like the Dad I loved—the Dad that died the same day my mother did? Why was he impersonating him?
“Things aren’t the same, period,” I said. “It doesn’t matter where I am, or whether I’m around you.”
“How can you talk like that? You should be home. Whether
“Hey David, congrats on the win,” I said
“I usually suck, I think you made me lucky or something.” He smiled when he said this, and his right hand found its way into my left.
“You played really well, even better than I was expecting.” Ana was much better at flirting than Sydney was.
“Well thanks for coming, you look amazing.”
I took a second to mentally scan my outfit: faded jean shorts, a simple red V-neck. Nothing special. “Thank you.”
“So how did you get here, did you drive?”
“Oh, no I walked, it’s really close, my house is like nowhere from here.” Realizing I had told the girls I’d be picked up, my eyes fluttered around the dark parking lot, stopping at every petal of light on the ground below each streetlight. I avoided his stare.
“It’s dark out, let me take you home.” Sometime during my frantic glancing across the parking lot, he’d moved closer to me. He pulled my chin to face him, and Sydney banged on my insides, pulling me away from him as I stepped back. Thankfully, Ana played it off as a flirty game, but I was slipping too much. Reassuringly, he laughed quietly and slowly dropped his hand from my face.
“Maybe another time,” I said. “Congratulations again, I’ll see you later?”
He sighed and nodded as his mouth poked out, understanding Ana’s game. “Yeah, definitely.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Goodnight, Ana.”
“Night, David.”
He watched me walk away for a while before turning to head to his car, where a few of the guys waited for him. I gave one more wave goodbye before I turned the corner.
* * *
The streets looked a lot less pleasant without daylight, and eventually everyone else who walked home from the game had veered off to their homes while I walked on. A few lurkers hobbled by, sniffing as I passed. Could I do this for a year? Two? Loneliness was one thing when it meant boredom, a much more serious thing when it meant fear and danger. I’d been searching for a better solution all week but ended up back in the shack every night.
And soon, I was back in the shack, and at least the air was cool. I turned on the flashlight to find my hairbrush in my bag, and had pulled it out to start brushing, when the phone rang.
David. I decided I had talked to him enough that night, so I let it ring. It rang until it stopped, only to start ringing again three seconds later. I moaned, and then chuckled at his persistence.
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound busy.
“Hi ho little one.”
Dad greeted me like that since I was little. He’d wake me up in the mornings before school. He would shake my belly and say “Hi ho little one” when I woke up. “Hi ho Daddy” I’d answer. Then he’d say, “Rise and shine, its wakey-wakey time,” and I’d groan, but eventually giggle.
This time I didn’t want to giggle, or groan. I just wanted to bawl and scream and break things—innocent things. I wanted to hurt someone or something and get this ridiculous feeling out from inside of me. No words I could have said would have quenched the rage. So I didn’t speak.
“Sydney, you there?”
After a few seconds, I took a deep breath. “Yeah, what do you need?” I held back tears with every word and every breath.
“I miss my daughter, and I just wanted to check and see how things are with you up there in North Carolina, since we haven’t talked in a few days. Things aren’t the same without you here, kid.”
How could he be talking like this, like the old Dad? What kind of sick joke could he be playing on me that would make him try and act like the Dad I loved—the Dad that died the same day my mother did? Why was he impersonating him?
“Things aren’t the same, period,” I said. “It doesn’t matter where I am, or whether I’m around you.”
“How can you talk like that? You should be home. Whether
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