Confessions of a Teenage Caffeine Addict

32 // The Envelope

People love you until they don't need you anymore.

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JAKE

FEBRUARY

Jules, come home. Please. You can't just leave Emma

She's asking where you are

You don't have to run away from this

Don't do this to Emma

Emma's asking about you again

Text messages I would never send and phone calls I would never make. She was gone. That much I knew. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks every single morning. And she sure as hell wasn't coming back. Once Julianne has made up her mind, there's no changing it. I looked over at the baby monitor, which conveniently had a video camera in it so I could see Emma in her crib. She was lying on her back, pink giraffe hugged to her chest, pink footy PJs tugging at the tips of her toes when she stretched. I put the monitor down and rolled over, knowing she would be awake soon, and sure enough, she was.

"Hi, Pretty," I said softly as I walked across her room. She was standing up in her crib, holding onto the side of the railing.

"Hi, Pretty," Emma copied me and I couldn't help but smile.

"You think Daddy's pretty?" I asked her, pointing a finger at my chest which caused Emma to bounce around a little bit and laugh. She held her arms up as I lifted her out, pink giraffe and all. Emma immediately snuggled into me, tucking her head just underneath my chin and stuck her thumb in her mouth. "Your hair's a mess," I said as I lazily made my way into the bathroom to brush her hair.

"Nooo," she said through a mouthful of giraffe and thumb.

"Yesss," I answered her in the same tone as I set her down on the bathroom counter. "And we need to change your diaper.

"Nooo," she smiled up at me.

"Yesss." I took Emma's pink giraffe from her and gave her kisses with it. She squirmed and wiggled, trying to get away from her best friend.

I poured some more Cheerios onto the tray of Emma's highchair. "Morning, Jake," Dad said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hey," I said as I cut up some grapes for Emma.

"Hi, sweat pea," Dad bent down and kissed her cheek. Emma leaned her head on him as she stuck another cheerio in her mouth. "Are those good?" he asked her stealing a cheerio off of her tray. "Oh, I got one! Papa got one!" Emma giggled, a smile stretched across her face.

"What's Papa doing?" I asked her as I put a handful of grapes in front of her. "Is he eating all of your breakfast?"

Dad grabbed one of Emma's feet, giving it a little shake before going to pour himself a cup of coffee. "You wanna go shoot around later today before the big game?" he asked me.

"It's just quarterfinals, Dad." I laughed.

"Yeah, against Ashland." He added some cream to his coffee.

"We should have never lost that game." I shook my head.

"You guys played like shit that game." He sipped his coffee.

I stared at Dad. "Dad!" he looked at me and then at Emma.

"Oh—yeah—uhh, cucka. You played like cucka."