After by Liz Czukas

After by Liz Czukas

Author:Liz Czukas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liz Czukas


Chapter Twenty

After I shower and put my bed back together with Sioned’s help, I’m finally free to climb under the covers and pretend to be exhausted so no one will talk to me. My cousin even steers clear, saying she’s going to watch a movie with Efa and Caitlin so I can sleep. I can’t decide if she’s being generous, or if she’d rather just avoid any more conversation with me right now. I wouldn’t blame her if it was the latter. No one knows what to say to me. It’s like we all think we shouldn’t talk about what happened, but at the same time, it would be wrong to talk about anything else. So we just don’t talk at all.

I take my phone into bed with me, scrolling through to look for any messages I got. There are a few typical funny Snaps and texts from friends, but not as much as I’d get if it weren’t the day after a holiday. Everybody is stuck on family duty right now.

Tapping into my text thread with Sam, I scroll up to look through the conversation between him and Sioned while I was gone. She’s wasn’t exaggerating, he was worried.

There are a lot of, Have you heard anything? messages, followed by Sioned’s replies that she doesn’t know anything new. Back at the beginning, there’s a part where they both dance around what the other one knows. I skim through everything and go back down to the latest message.

I’ve got my phone back.

Are you okay? The reply comes back almost instantly. Like he was waiting for me.

I guess. How are you?

Fine. Doesn’t matter. Are you sure you’re all right?

I wish there was a way to shrug over text. I don’t know what to say. My dad isn’t very happy with me.

Mine either.

At least yours will leave.

Tomorrow.

That’s a relief. I would really prefer to avoid Mr. Evans altogether for now. Maybe forever. Is that possible? I text, I wish you were here.

Me too.

This whole situation is ridiculous. It’s not even that late—ten o’clock on a Friday night. Normally, I would be with Sam. We’d be piled on a couch together, or at a friend’s house, or whatever. We are always together. Even when it’s supposed to be family time. That was the beauty of living next door to each other. But now, when I could really use him, when I really want him here, it feels impossible. How can I even ask him to face my father when I don’t want to face my father? Or even my mother for that matter? She might be the one who is more in my corner but I can’t picture her enthusiastically ushering the guy who got me pregnant up to my room to comfort me. Not to mention I’m supposed to be sleeping.

This sucks, I type.

Want me to climb through your window?

I’m sure that would be very subtle. My room is at the end of the house where the windows overlook the shared driveway. I can see the Evanses’ house from here, including the windows to their kitchen and Brea’s room.



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