agreed. Then the rich girl realized her mistake. “Sorry, Abby, we only have enough room in the car for—”
“Hey, that’s cool. I have to eat lunch anyways,” Abby said, trying to sound nonchalant but knowing full well she would have rather gone without food for a week if it meant hanging out with them. “Have fun.”
The rest of the group left. Abby touched the bridge of her nose. Yeah, that was going to leave a mark. She opened her brown paper bag, unwrapped her sandwich and felt what it was like to be in loud, crowded room all alone.
As she bit into her turkey sandwich, she thought it strange that her having to sit there by herself came down to a lottery of how many girls were at the table a moment ago and how many seats were in that rich girl’s car.
Abby stepped off the school property onto the sidewalk and immediately felt the relief that came with knowing she could be herself. Why was it so difficult to just walk into school, say what you thought, be accepted by your friends, have an interesting day—without getting your face smashed in—and then come home? Why was this walk always the best part of the day?
She walked the four blocks to her home. Every step took her farther away from the memories of the day, save for the throbbing in her nose. She walked up the driveway of her red-bricked house. She entered the garage code on the keypad and glanced up at the basketball hoop. It had been underused since her dad started the habit of working later and later each evening. For a moment she remembered the fun times they used to have playing ball. When she was young she could barely get the ball up to the basket. Then she grew taller, but he was around less, and that hoop just stood there as a testimony to what was, instead of what should be.
Opening the door she heard her mother call out from the kitchen. “Hi, Abby!”
“Hi, Mom,” Abby replied, forgetting the reason for the argument they had that morning. What had it been about again?
She turned the corner. Saw her mother, Talia. Spunky smile. A true older version of Abby.
“You were right. I was wrong,” Talia said.
“No problem.”
“I’m off to help at the shelter tonight. Have a great time—” She stopped. Stepped into better light. Saw Abby’s nose. Her mouth dropped open. “What happened to you?”
Is it that obvious?
“Soccer.”
“Is it broken?” her mom asked, putting her hand on Abby’s shoulder to get a better look.
“It’s not broken, Mom.”
“It might be.”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Let’s go to emergency.”
“We’re not going to emergency.”
Her mom exhaled. “You’re sure?”
Abby looked into the kitchen. Didn’t smell anything cooking. “What’s for supper?”
“Supper? Your dad, that’s what’s for supper. He’s taking you out tonight. Remember?”
“Right.”
“Have fun.”
Her mother walked into the garage. Abby heard the car starting, then the rumble of the garage door closing.
Cool. She and her dad. Spending time with him could make up for the bad day. She went upstairs, got changed into nicer clothes. Sat in front of the mirror, doing the best she could with makeup to hide the start of the blue forming on her nose. Interesting, she thought, how it matched her eyes.
She sat down on the living room couch and checked her various social media accounts. She had spent an hour there when her dad’s number came up.
“Hey, Dad,” she answered.
“Abby, how are you doing?”
“Doing good. How about you?”
“Excellent. Good day at school today?”
She heard it in his voice. Sensed it right away. An excuse is coming. Please, Dad. Just cancel whatever came up, and let’s go out for dinner.
“It was fine,” she lied.
“That’s great.”
His voice was too upbeat. He was setting her up for the fall. She supposed that by now she should have gotten used to it, but she hadn’t. Every time he bailed was a letdown. This would be no different.
“Say, Abster, I’m really sorry, but it’s not going to work tonight. Can we switch it around to another night?”
No. No, we can’t. You made a promise. You said you would be here. Just stop telling me you’re going to be here when you can’t.
“Sure thing. No problem.”
“Thanks. I am still in a meeting out here in Barrie. I won’t be home for a few hours.”
Fine. Okay. Fine. But can you just do me a favour? Before you hang up, can you just say you love me?
“Okay, safe travels.”
“Have a great evening, okay?”
“You too, Dad.”
I love you. I love you. I love you. Can you say it?
“Take care, Abster. Talk soon.”
Talk soon?
The line went dead.
She shrugged her shoulders, but the crushing weight didn’t leave. She felt disappointed that she wasn’t strong enough to brush off her dad cancelling on her. This shouldn’t bother me so much.
Should it?
She grabbed some ice cream out of the freezer. Dairy free. Vanilla. She glanced at the clock. Perfect. A soccer game was about to start. For every door that closes—
Her phone pinged. Putting down her ice cream, she pulled out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. A new contact request. She looked at his picture.
Good-looking guy. Wow. Who is this?
She clicked on his image. Jake. Brown eyes. Brown hair. An easy, unforced smile.
Forgetting about the game she grabbed her ice cream and walked up to her bedroom. She closed the door, even though the house was empty, and sat down on her bed. She put her ice cream on the nightstand beside her clock-calendar, keeping her eyes on the new interest in her life.
She flipped through various social media platforms, trying to learn what she could about him. Then she returned to staring at his picture. They had a few acquaintances in common. No one close. She didn’t recognize him from school. Maybe he’s a nice guy who reaches out to a lot of people. But the longer she looked, the more interested she became. To
