by Gia Riley
“No, I’ll call him back. I have to calm down first.” Dad urges me to sit back down, and I do. My knee bounces up and down as I try to avoid a full blown panic attack.
“Do you want me to talk to Kipton about this? I don’t want you overwhelmed. You’ve come too far to get lost again.”
I turn my head toward him, surprised by his offer. “You’d do that for me?”
“Sophie, I’d do anything for you. There’s so much time I need to make up for. You’re a grown adult now, but you’ll always be my little girl.”
His words are exactly what I need to calm down. Knowing I have him to lean on, I don’t feel so alone. Slowly, my panic fades into pure sadness. Even my anger lessens. It’s not gone, and I’m not sure it’ll ever disappear entirely, but as much as I hate Dean, nobody deserves cancer.
“Just breathe, beauty.”
I try to do exactly that as a new uneasiness creeps up my spine. Though it’s neither anger nor guilt this time. This time, it’s unexpected sympathy. And I hate it. Not once did Dean ever shed a tear for me. Hell, he laughed at them—he hated me.
Dad notices the moment my breathing intensifies again. “It’s okay, Sophie. Let it go.” He kneels down in front of me as I sit on the bed in disbelief. “Let it go,” he repeats.
Finally, the dam breaks.
Leaning forward, I sob into his chest. “I don’t love him, but I don’t want Mom to hurt like I have. She has her own vices and they’ll kill her, too.”
“Sophie, part of her will always love Dean. Sure, it makes no sense to us, but she knew him before the bad. That changes things.”
“But it doesn’t make what he did right.”
“I agree, but she’s already starting to process a life without him in it. She’s been living in self-preservation mode for a good portion of their marriage. He ruined her—destroyed every bit of goodness inside her.”
I pull away from him, wiping the tears from my eyes so I can see his face clearly. “Is she in trouble, Dad?”
“No, Sophie. She’s working hard to take her life back.”
“That’s good.”
“This diagnosis was hard, but it’s opened her eyes to a world she thought she could never have. And she won’t do this alone. I’ll make sure she doesn’t fall.”
I expected an answer like that from my dad, but hearing it, I realize he’s in deep too. “You still love her, don’t you?”
He pauses for a few seconds, but doesn’t shy away from my question. He promised to be truthful to me, and I know that’s exactly what his response will be—the truth.
“Yeah, beauty. I’ll probably never stop loving her.”
His honesty is sincere, even after all he endured from a woman who could never be his. He was her dirty little secret—a work affair taken too far once she became pregnant with me. Yet he’s still fighting for her despite his own heartache. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
My life could have been so different if they would have gotten married. We could have had a good life as a happy little family—a normal life like most of the other kids in my class. But that wasn’t in the cards for the three of us.
“Sophie,” Cara calls through the door as she knocks a couple times. I have no idea how long we’ve been back here. It could have been ten minutes, or maybe it was more like an hour. Once I heard the news, time got away from me.
I wipe my eyes with my fingertips before I open the door. If she knows I’m crying, she’ll tell Kipton, and that’s the last thing I need right now. But she takes one look at my puffy eyes, and knows my dad’s visit wasn’t a simple one. “Sophie, are you okay?”
“I will be. What’s up?”
Wearily, she glances back and forth between my dad and I. Cara can be as protective as her brother when she needs to be. “You didn’t eat any pizza and Kipton called looking for you. He said you didn’t answer his call.”
“Yeah, I sent it to voicemail. We were busy, but I’ll call him back in a little while. Will you text him for me so he doesn’t worry?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s already worried, but I’ll send him a text anyway.”
“Thanks. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Cara closes the door giving us privacy to finish our conversation. She probably wouldn’t have interrupted if she knew what we had been discussing.
Dad stands from the bed, smiling despite the intense conversation we had. “They watch out for you. They’re a good family.”
I laugh as I say, “They’re pretty great. Just don’t piss Cara off. She’s feisty.”
He nods his head like he’s making a mental note. “I’m sorry I had to ruin your first day back, but I wanted you to hear it from me as soon as possible.”
Before Dean passed away.
It’s going to take a while to work through this mess I have going on in my head, but I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse. “Thank you.”
“Focus on your classes and your grades. That’s all you have to do right now, okay? You can call me, or come to my house anytime.”
I know the perfect way to get through this rough patch—the gym. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt completely whole, and there’s no doubt in my mind it could help me now. “Can I still use the team gym without actually being on the team?”
My dad’s eyes light up at the mention of me returning to practice. “Of course you can. I’d love to have you back, Sophie. You’re always welcome.”
And I’d love to be back. “Okay. I’m probably really rusty after all this time, but it will be good therapy.” Not to mention it will be a great way for the two of us to continue to work on our relationship. We connect over gymnastics the most, and in the gym, we get each other even more than we do outside of it.
“The practice schedule is the same,” he assures me. “I’ll email you another copy.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before he turns the door knob to leave, I stop him. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks—for looking out for me. Will you keep me posted on how Dean’s doing? So I’m not blindsided when he passes.” I’d rather know when it coming instead of having another visit like this one. I don’t know how many more conversations about Dean I can handle.
He looks hesitant, but only for a second. “If that’s what you want, I will.”
“It is.” I have to do this on my own terms, or it will consume me.
“Okay, you got it.”
“See ya in the gym.”
“Bye, beauty,” he says with a smile.
I should show him out, but I need a minute, and he knows that. Just as I close my bedroom door to rest for a few minutes, there’s a knock on the other side.
“Sophie,” Cara says though the wood.
The last thing I feel like doing is explaining myself, but she needs to know what’s going on. After all, the Kellers are the only real family I have besides my dad. Though I did soften the smallest bit toward my mom today, forgiveness still has to be earned, and she’s made no effort.
“Door’s open,” I say, as I flop on my bed.
“Hey, hooch. What was going on in here? Things seemed pretty intense with your dad.”
“Oh you know it’s not every day I move into a new apartment and my dad informs me the guy I always thought was my father is knocking on death’s door.”
“What!” she exclaims. If I didn’t already have her attention, I do now.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Looks like the whiskey is going to get the last laugh.”
“Shit, Sophie. That’s a slap in the face.”
As soon as she says that, it’s like a hundred angels in the sky start singing. She gets it. “And that’s exactly how it feels. How am I supposed to not give a shit about what happens to him when I can’t stop thinking about it?”
She rests her head on my pillow, and I grab onto the one Kipton used while he was here. Since everyone already knows I’m a pillow sniffer, I don’t even try to hide it
.
“I wish I had an answer for you, but I think you should take it to therapy and talk it through. Of course I’m always here to listen too, but this is going to stay with you no matter how much you analyze it. Until then, you eat some pizza and try your best to forget about the dickwad. Oh, and call Kipton again. He’s blowing up my phone with questions.”
Laughing, I appreciate how Cara always gets straight to the point. Everything seems so simple in that brain of hers. “Pizza it is. Then, I’ll call your brother.”
“I can be talked into another piece, let’s go,” Cara says as she grabs my arm and yanks me off my bed. I hate to keep Kipton waiting even longer, but I’m starving. And when I’m hungry, he knows better than to try to have a conversation with me.
The semester hasn’t even officially begun and already I’m eating cold pizza and working my way through the first shit storm.
Welcome to senior year, Sophie.
I’VE FLIPPED THROUGH THE SAME set of channels over and over, but nothing catches my attention. Even the movie channels are playing random films I’ve never heard of. All these channels and there’s still shit on TV.
I toss the remote on the coffee table, and stretch out on the couch. After spending the morning at the high school setting up my classroom, I’m tired. Carrying boxes and moving twice in one week was the best workout I’ve had in a long time.
Most of the other teachers I met were pretty cool, but it was awkward as hell when my old Spanish teacher came knocking on my door to see if I was the same guy that loved pulling pranks in her classroom four years ago. I was positive she retired, but there she stood with her buck teeth, and curly black hair. It’s like a Brillo Pad took residence on the lump above her shoulders.
After shaking my hand and welcoming me to the school, I thought she was going to leave peacefully. But as she held on tightly to my hand, a devilish smirk emerged. “Be on your best behavior, Javier,” she warned.
I must have been a bigger asshole than I thought for her to remember my Spanish name after all this time, but when you’re a seventeen-year-old punk with the world at his fingertips, you do stupid shit and get the occasional detention for it.
Without a doubt Senorita Mosley is still as frightening as I remembered.
Fuck me.
No, wait. Don’t do that. Fucking and Senorita Mosley should never be in the same sentence. Those teeth of hers would be way too painful.
I should be doing something epic on my last day of freedom. Instead, I’m having visions of Mosley giving shitty blow jobs. But I’m saved by the bell when my cell lights up with an incoming call from my girl.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hang on a sec.” The phone rustles around, creating static in my ear, but the sound of her blowing her nose can’t be mistaken. Fuck, she’s been crying.
“Sophie, are you there?”
“I’m here. Sorry to do that in your ear, but I figured you were going nuts by now.”
She has no idea where my head’s been. “What’s going on? Cara said your dad stopped by to see you.”
“He did.”
That’s it? She’s going to have to give me more than that. “Okay, and then what?”
She’s still quiet, and right away my mind defaults to the worst. Her hesitation could mean nothing, or it could be everything. “Sophie, what is it? Talk to me.”
“Dean has cancer. He’s dying.”
“Shit, baby.” That wasn’t the worst case scenario I was preparing for. Hell, it wasn’t even a consideration. Dean’s been an absolute piece of shit to the women in his life. He deserves whatever he has coming, but I can guarantee that’s not how Sophie sees the situation. My girl is way too compassionate for that kind of evil retribution to be satisfying.
“Are you okay?” It’s a stupid question. Of course she’s not okay, but it’s the only thing I can think of to say to her.
“My dad only left twenty minutes ago. I honestly don’t know how I am yet.”
“Have you?” Twenty minutes is a long time—enough time to end up in the bathroom hovered over the toilet.
She sighs, and I almost regret asking, but I care too much about her to pretend her purging is a thing of the past. It’s been under control, but this news could mean the difference between a continuing recovery and a relapse.
“Have I thrown up? You can say the words Kipton. I won’t break down.”
There’s a bite to her tone, and I know I’ve offended her. “I’m sorry.” And I mean it. I wish I didn’t have to consider it at all.
“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s a logical question given my past.”
Her voice has softened enough that I know she’s not mad at me for jumping to conclusions. “The last time I asked you the same question, you left me.”
“Life was different then. I was angry, and in denial.” She pauses before taking a cleansing breath. “To answer your question, I haven’t thrown up.”
Thank fuck for that. “Will you let me know if you’re in trouble? Please. I can only tell so much from your voice. I’ve always relied on your eyes to tell me the truth.”
“I won’t lie to you.”
“I’m proud of you, Sophie.”
“Thank you for saying that. So many emotions ran through me after he told me. At first, I was shocked—there weren’t any other words to describe it. From there I wavered between sadness and intense anger. The kind that makes you want to punch a wall or throw something heavy—I needed to break something.”
“Did you?”
“No, but by the time he finished explaining to me what was going on, all the highs and lows hit me at the same time. I’m pretty sure I was teetering on the edge of a colossal panic attack.”
“How did you get through it?”
“I remembered to breathe.”
That sounds so simple, yet I know better than to believe it was.
“I can deal with the anger, but do you know what shocked me the most?”
“What?”
“Kipton, how I can be sad for a man who hates my guts? Explain it to me, please.”
“Beautiful, I don’t have a magic answer. Dean’s been in your life for as long as you can remember. It’s natural to give a shit even when you don’t want to.”
“I guess you’re right. It pisses me off that I can’t pick and choose my emotions. I’d like to flush it right down the toilet.”
“But you haven’t, and you won’t.”
“No. I won’t.”
I’m beyond relieved to hear her say those words. “I’m sorry I’m not there to help you through this.”
“I’ll be okay. It is what it is.”
She sounds more resigned than she did when she first called—like she’s coming to terms with the information. As great as that is, there’s also a bit of uncertainty mixed in with her resolve. Because of that fact alone, I worry. She shouldn’t have to deal with Dean at all anymore. He’s not her father, and he sure as hell has never been a parent to her.
“Oh, I have good news, too! My day didn’t suck entirely.”
“Really?”
“My dad liked the gymnastics idea!”
“That’s great, baby. I knew he would. He’s as passionate about the sport as you are.”
“You still think it’s a good idea? Getting back into the gym?”
“If it makes you happy, I do.” That’s all I want—for her to be happy.
“As long as it doesn’t take over my life again, right?”
“Exactly. If it stops being fun, or interferes with school, take a step back.”
“When did my boyfriend get so wise?” she asks playfully.
“Well, I am a teacher now.”
“What are you going to teach me?”
Talk about a loaded question. I have to think of something to respond with because everything that’s come to me so far is filthy. “Do you have a student/teacher fantasy I don’t know about?”
She giggles as she says, “I do now.”
/> Fuck that’s hot. “Then we should get started on our first lesson.”
“Which is?”
“Welcome to Phone Sex 101.”
She snorts, and with the mention of her new class, becomes animated again. “You’re crazy, Kipton. Thank you. I needed a laugh.”
“Who says I’m joking? We’re going to have to get a little creative you know. I mean, I can’t go more than twenty-four hours without seeing your gorgeous ass.”
She keeps laughing as she asks, “What about the rest of me?”
“I want all of you, Sophie. But your ass—it’s fucking perfect.”
She groans and I love how easy it is to get her worked up. “You’re not playing fair, Kipton.”
“I never said I was.”
“Hold on, your sister is yelling. “What?” Sophie yells back.
I pull the phone away from my ear, my ear drum completely blown. “Shit.”
“Sorry, babe. You okay?”
“I’m good. What did she want?”
“They need my grocery list. I’d make them wait, but I’m going to get sick of eating pizza really fast if we don’t get some real food in the house.”
“Right now?” I was hoping for some fun.
“Yes, shitty timing as usual.”
“Don’t worry about it. You can call me back later.”
“Okay, but just out of curiosity, how far would you have gone with this little lesson plan of yours?”
“The whole way, beautiful. When it comes to you, I need it all.”
She groans again. “You’re killing me. We definitely have to continue this later. I thought you were crazy when you brought it up, but now I’m curious.”
That’s more than okay with me. I try sweetening the pot a little, hoping I can talk her into more. “With pictures? Those are extra credit.”
“I always do the extra credit. I want to earn an A.”
I can’t think of a better way to learn. “It’s a date. I love you, Sophie.”
“Love you too, Kipton.”
We both linger on the line for a few seconds before I end the call. She hates to hang up first. As long as we aren’t constantly interrupted, this long distance thing could have a few perks.
AS PROMISED, I CALLED KIPTON back. And every night for the past week, we’ve gotten more and more creative with our nightly calls. At first, I was really nervous that someone would find out what we were doing, but I trust Kipton to keep what we have safe. He would never put me at risk, especially concerning my body. In fact, I’m closer to him than I’ve ever been.