Tea For Two

28

Disclaimer: This is part of an original work of fiction. It is mine, please do not steal it. Thank you. Enjoy.

~~~

Except for an uncomfortable trip to the grocery store with my mother on Saturday- where I was stared at more than I felt was fair- I can honestly say I haven't left the house in four days. To say I'm restless is an understatement.

After waking up on Thursday with a throbbing headache and a ribcage to match, I downed what felt like half of my body's weight in water with a couple of acetaminophen and slept until Friday showed its equally ugly face. 

Friday night comes and my mother leaves to get her fingernails done in the next town, leaving me with Daddy.

She has been gone for fifteen minutes before I slide out of bed and get ready. My phone is sitting on her bedside table, and as I tiptoe down the hall to retrieve it, I pass Daddy, asleep on the sofa in the living room.

Good. That makes this easier.

I carefully pick my phone up and ghost down the hall again, firing off a text message to Jonathon as soon as I'm in my bedroom.

Where are you right now?

While I wait for his response, I decide to change into something other than my pajama pants. I nudge the top layer off of my clothes pile with my foot, hunting. As I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top- one glance out the window tells me I'd be swimming in sweat with sleeves- my phone buzzes on my bed.

Where do you think?

A second later, it buzzes again:

Kyle's. Why?

Before searching for socks, I reply:

Good. I'm coming over.

His response is almost instantaneous:

K.

I creep back into the living room, my phone shoved in my pocket, and as I pass Daddy, his eyes snap open.

"Where are you headed, Miss Grounded?"

Shit.

"I'm going to go see some of the guys from the team."

He sits up.

"Where at?"

"Kyle Johnson's house?" I say, not sure where he's going with this.

"Arthur's kid?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're not taking my truck, are you?"

"No, sir." The truck needs a new muffler- too loud for sneaking out.

"And you know your mom's gonna be back in-" he checks his watch- "two hours, right?"

"Right."

"Okay," he says, standing up and stretching before walking toward the kitchen. "If you're not back in an hour and a half, I'm coming to get you."

"I- uh, okay," I stammer, wondering why he's helping me. When I open my mouth to ask, he cuts me of with his back still turned.

"You better head out now, or you'll end up running home."

Without another word, I step out the door and stride across the front lawn.

The walk over takes considerably less time than the first, mostly because I'm hurrying, but it really doesn't hurt that I'm sure of where I'm going tow, and I also know a slight short cut involving a garden hidden by a shed.