No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

April ended too soon, and May is also coming along fast, to my disbelief. Between finishing up the last of school and working the hours at the job, time will fly faster than a bullet, I guess.

Good news is I'm making a decent transfer from learning not as useful info for no payment to learning how to do my job with payment. Bad news is I've developed a habit of spending all but five bucks on every check I get. Even more good news? I'm now the owner of a rocking pearl-white suit. I have plans for it, just you wait.

Dad peeks over my shoulder as I fill in the last couple bars on the student visa website. "The last two numbers on the credit card's switched," he informs me as I move the mouse to the 'submit' button.

"You sure?"

"It's my card. I'm more than sure."

"I don't believe you." Dad produces his credit card, and I glance at the numbers. "Huh. Guess you're right."

He laughs. "Thanks for the skepticism, hon."

"No problem. Any time." I fix the errors and click the button. A text box appears to let us know the English visa department received my application, and that they'll let us know soon if I'm approved.

I hope I get approved. I won't get the last hour back.

"What are you going to do now?" Dad asks as I close my laptop.

Standing up, I stretch long and hard. "I'm meeting up with friends for a party." With Jeremiah, Ikra, Aspen and me, it's more of a small gathering. Although Ikra might bring out a bottle and attempt to turn it into a party.

I make a note to let Aspen know not to think too harsh about Ikra. She's nervous as is meeting up with past clients, as she explained to me last night through text. I pointed out that she's dating her 'past client'.

Aspen didn't appreciate me bringing up the irony.

Dad's eyebrows furrow. "You're graduating next month; can't you have a party then?"

"That's a different one," I clarify. "This one's because I haven't seen them in forever."

"You guys attend the same school!"

"With different schedules," I defend. I don't bring up the fact Aspen's online-schooled. The less Dad knows, the less I prevent having to explain everything and be late leaving the house. Speaking of... "I gotta go. It starts in a bit."

I put on sunglasses -- damn sun's out to get me, I just know it -- and pick up a plastic bag of snacks. Hopefully my friends bring more food; I don't have enough to last the entire time.

"Do you at least want to say bye to your mom?" Dad asks.

The second the last word leaves his mouth, I freeze.

To be honest, not much has happened between Mom and I since that morning. By 'not much', I mean I dodged her every chance I had. If I have a laundry list of things to do on a regular basis now, I might as well take advantage of using them as excuse. "Sorry, I have an eight-hour shift starting in ten minutes!" is my go-to.

Mom doesn't seem eager to reach out to me. As much as I enjoy having more privacy at the house, I doubt she's doing it on her own. Dad didn't sound happy when I relayed that morning's events to him, after noticing the tension between me and her and asking what's wrong. I later saw my parents having a quiet discussion that stopped when they saw me.

I'm not prepared to talk to her. Or even see her face to face. And I don't think it'll change before I leave this country.

But I don't say that to Dad.