“Linnea, you don’t understand, my relationship with my Dad is so different to the one you had with your Dad.” I didn’t get to spend a lot of my life with my Dad, only 8 short years but I had always been much closer to him than my Mum.

           

            “Don’t take him for granted.” I don’t know how many times I told people that. As a small 8-year-old, of course I had taken my Dad for granted, assuming he’d pass away when I was married with kids.

            “I know.”

            “Call him today.”

            “Maybe.” Olivia paused. “I think he’s getting remarried.”

            “You think?”

           

            “Last time we spoke, he said something about it. I can’t really remember. I don’t want him to get married.” I was getting annoyed with Olivia.

            “If he’s happy, who cares?”

            “Anyway, how’s your Mum going? I haven’t seen her in ages.” Olivia was always over my house but my Mum was hardly ever home.

            “She goes to more parties than I do,” I laughed. My Mum mourned horribly over my Dad’s death. For a year, she refused to leave the house and my Grandma moved in to help look after Matthew and me. The following year she started going out more and for a little while, things were back to normal but that didn’t last for very long.

            “So she’ll be okay with you going out tonight?”

            “Yeah, she probably will as well.”

Olivia smirked and stood up. “Do you have anything to wear tonight?”

            I looked down at the three bags in my arms. “Nope,” I laughed.

***

On the way home, I checked my phone to see a couple of messages on Kik. I clicked on Jason’s messages. We had been talking for two days about nothing in particular. He had joked a couple of times about meeting up but I never would. “Who you texting?”

            “No one,” I replied.

            “That always means someone.”

            “He’s actually nobody.”

            “He?”

            “Why are you so surprised?” I groaned.

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