Three days later, everything, if it was even possible, was worse. My dad had begun to pack. I couldn’t watch it. My parents no longer talked at all, and they hardly ever talked to me. I cleaned the house without them asking, trying to make things easier. Peter hadn’t talked to me at all. I was constantly fighting the urge to call him. Constantly. Even now, as I sit in my room, folding clothes, I can feel the pull of my phone. I want to call him so badly, but I couldn’t. I can’t do that. I don’t understand why this happens. Everything was starting to look up, and now everything’s worse than it was before.
When I’m not cleaning, I simply sit in my room and do absolutely nothing. My life has become a boring, repetitive, lonely black hole that sucks all the emotion out of me. Or actually, not all the emotion. I have one emotion: sadness. I was either sad or feeling nothing at all.
Now it had been a week. My dad was moving out right this very second. I was sitting on the stairs, watching him load up a couple of boxes in the back of his car. He had already gotten an apartment and bought furniture. It all happened so fast. Didn’t things like this usually take longer? Could you even get an apartment so quickly?
When he finished putting the boxes in his car, he walked back into the house and over to me. I stood up to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms around me very briefly and kissed my cheek.
“Love you,” he said quietly.
“I love you too, Daddy.”
He nodded and walked out of the house, closing the door. A second later I heard his car start up and he was gone.
He was gone.
Tears were running down my cheeks and I couldn’t think straight. I needed to talk to someone. I need someone. Without thinking, I picked up the phone and called Peter.
He didn’t answer.
I hiccupped and wiped my tears away. However, new tears immediately replaced them. I needed someone to talk to. I called Tyler. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it was wrong. But despite the fact that he was an ass, he understood me sometimes.
“Hello?” he said. Gosh, I had missed his voice.
“Alex? Are you crying?” he asked.
“M-my d-dad…he’s g-gone,” I cried.
“What? I didn’t catch that,” he said.
I couldn’t even get anymore words out.
“Alex? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“C-can you come over?”
“Sure, I’ll be there in a sec.”
I hung up.
Walking outside, I collapsed on the porch steps and waited.
Ten minutes later Tyler pulled up. He got out of the car and walked towards me. I got up to meet him halfway.
“Oh, Alex,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
I almost ran to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I exploded into tears, crying into his chest. He held me as a cried and rubbed my back.
What was I doing crying into Tyler?
After I had finished crying, we both sat down on the porch steps.
“Sorry about that,” I said.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry you lost your dad.”
I shrugged. “It’ll get better. Hopefully.”
“So,” he said, “how are you and Peter?”
I snorted. “There is no ‘me and Peter’.”
I sighed. “He told me that he couldn’t watch my parents hurt me anymore.”
Tyler nodded. “I’m sorry about that, but he might have a point, you know.”
I nudged him. “Whose side are you on?”
He smiled. “I’m not on any side.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, how’s your love life?”
“Oh you know,” he said, grinning, “The girls cant resist me.”
I laughed. “Right.”
He laughed to. “But no, really, I did meet a girl.”
I smiled, genuinely happy for him. “What’s her name?”
“Wait, is she the blonde one?”
“The one and only!”
“You like Michelle Stewart?”
“That is totally not what I expected!” I said, laughing.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She’s quiet and sweet and shy.”
“Tyler, you go for the loud, obnoxious, popular, bimbos.”
He scoffed. “She’s different. She’s not like the other girls.”
I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Tyler. I really am.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Now we just have to get you and Peter back together. I’ve never seen you so happy before.”
I ignored his comment. “Don’t screw it up with Michelle. Don’t push her too far,” I said. We both knew what I was referring to.
He nodded and smiled. “I won’t. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
“But you and Peter really need to get back together.”
“Give it a rest.”
He poked me in the side, making me squeal.
He laughed. “C’mon! You know you miss him!”
“Stop it! I do not.”
He just looked at me.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“I knew it!” he said, poking me again.
“Tyler, stop it! That tickles!”
He grinned and poked me again.
“I’m going to poke your eye out if you do that again!” I threatened, still laughing.
“Oh really?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“I’m tougher than I look!”
“Oh, I’m sure,” he said sarcastically.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
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