Basic by E.J. Mara

Author:E.J. Mara [Mara, E.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Come Play Studios
Published: 2020-03-02T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

By the time 3:15 rolled around, I was exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally.

The five of us had ended up staying at Marvin’s Diner until a few minutes after noon. After that, Kimberly and I drove to a nearby park where we sat on a bench and talked about the Farrah Duncan situation on our own. I was surprised she didn’t ask me what was going on between me and Jonathan. She was pretty observant and it was obvious Jonathan was unable to even look at me anymore. I was sure she’d noticed.

Anyhow, before we knew it- it was 3:00 and Kimberly drove me home.

After she dropped me off, I strolled up our driveway, where a douche truck, a bright blue Ford F-150 was parked.

I frowned at it, hoping it didn’t belong to Van.

He was much too cool to drive a piece of ‘look-at-me-and-my-desperate-need-to-overcompensate’ trash like that.

I made my way around the side of the house, glancing at the tulips Jonathan had said he’d liked. The tulips that we didn’t plant. The tulips that he would never see again because there was no way he’d ever step foot in our house again. After all, Jonathan hated liars. And I was a liar.

Sighing, I unlocked our back door and stepped inside to find Mom and Van kissing on the couch.

My stomach turned at the sight.

They untangled themselves and jumped off the couch like a couple of embarrassed tweens who’d been caught by a parent.

I pretended to be unfazed and said, “Hey,” while I set my book bag down and headed to the kitchen.

“Hi, sugar plum,” Mom replied in an awkward high-pitched voice as she followed me into the kitchen, Van close at her heels.

“Hey, Libby,” he said. “Nice to see you again.”

I forced a smile that I didn’t feel and said, “You too,” while I looked around the kitchen, wondering what I could get into.

I wasn’t particularly hungry or particularly in the mood for Mom’s criticism about my eating habits, but I needed comfort. And sometimes food is the best source of comfort you can get.

Recalling the ice cream and waffle cone Mom had attempted to eat last night, I opened the freezer and addressed Van over my shoulder, “Is that your truck out front?”

Van laughed. “If I ever buy a truck like that, I give you my official consent to have me checked for brain damage.”

I smiled, and this time it was genuine. Grabbing the vanilla ice cream and pack of cones, I said, “Good, because I can’t in good conscience allow my mother to see a Ford F-150 kind of guy.”

“What?” Van chuckled. “You don’t want her with a guy who calls her “articulate” and complements her on her “Caucasian” features?”

I dumped my snack prep on the kitchen island and laughed as I looked at Van. “So, she told you about that dude?”

He nodded and leaned against the other side of the island, watching me grab an ice cream scoop and get to work on building my cone.

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