The Dating Game

TWENTY-FIVE

The time barely ticks to nine PM by the time Chase drops me off back at my house. The ride is practically silent outside of the soulful R&B playing softly inside the car. I can tell he wants to talk but doesn't know what to say, and for once, I'm in the same boat. Usually, it's easy to make conversation with him, but after what happened before we left...

"This is it," he tells me softly, as if I don't know where my own home is. I nod and reach over to open my door until Chase grabs my wrist yet again. When he starts climbing out of the car and running over to the passenger side, I roll my eyes. It's only when he opens my door for me and our eyes make still contact that I have to force myself to look away and take his hand.

"Your parents were great," I tell him honestly as he walks me to my front door. "Not as suspicious as you made them seem."

"Yeah, well, I guess you drew the lucky straw." His face softens against the dark sky and his eyes flick down to my lips, which are still sore from just a bit earlier. Before he can draw me back in, I push myself away from him and through my front door. I don't even try looking back at him before I close it and dart immediately toward my room where I call Isaac as soon as I change into some pajamas.

"Were they monsters or, like, in-law worthy?" Isaac asks as soon as I tell him I just got back from meeting Chase's parents. His eyes are wide over the video call and he's flat on his bed, leaning against his arms. Overall, way too interested.

"Neither," I answer instinctually. One of his eyebrows twitches up in confusion.

"Interesting," he admits. "I guess it is a little too early to tell. I mean you guys have only been dating for, what, two weeks?"

When the words come out of his mouth, it hardly registers in my brain. Two weeks. I've only spent two weeks as Chase's "girlfriend" and yet somehow it feels like we've been together for much longer. I know more about him than anyone would know about another person in only two weeks, we've kissed on multiple occasions, and we've both already met each other's parents. Two weeks just doesn't feel real at this point.

"Did anything happen while you were over?" Isaac's voice brings me out of my confused trance, triggering a memory I'd been fighting all night to keep locked away.

So, of course, I shake my head no. I mean, what would I even be able to say? Yeah, he made the mistake of wearing gray sweatpants and flirting with me, so one thing led to another and we may have spent twenty minutes too long making out on his bed. I guarantee Isaac does not want to hear about that.

"Well, I'm glad it wasn't horrible," he finally says. "Listen, it's getting late, Mich. I'll talk to you more tomorrow?"

I nod with a smile before saying goodnight. "Get some rest," I tell him before hanging up the call and making my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. It is fairly late, after all—well past midnight, which is my usual bedtime.

I quickly throw a toothbrush to my teeth and scrub away, staring hard at myself in the mirror with the faucet running some warm water below. As I spit the toothpaste out and turn to wipe my face on the towel behind me, there's a racket coming from the kitchen.

Suddenly, I'm stuck.

As my body refuses to make a single move, I begin to hear it like déjà vu. Dad's violent tone, yelling like he wants the whole neighborhood to fear him. Mom's helpless demeanor, pleading for him to calm down. I can't even bring myself to drop the towel from my face. Every bone in my body is screaming, begging me to go help Mom, but not a single muscle moves.

It hurts, the way my body is frozen when I hear the loud smack of a hand against a cheek. And then the tears come, both from my mother and from my own eyes. Against every one of my wishes, my hands tremble in the towel while I close my eyes and just listen.