As if a practically dead phone and the return of an abusive father aren't already bad enough to wake up to, my day is only worsened when I arrive at school on time and Chase is nowhere to be found.
There's no sign of his curly brown hair anywhere, no trace of that stupid cologne he uses every day. I listen closely to see if I can hear his obnoxious voice in the crowd of people, but nothing comes close to a match. That boy better not be absent today; we need to plan for me to meet his parents this week.
I grab my nearly dead phone and hurriedly search through the missed calls. There's only one from Chase that was made at almost two in the morning—no wonder I didn't answer that one—so maybe the voicemail would explain why he's not here today. That would probably be the best way to check.
Except I can't check because there is no voicemail. Nice going, Chase.
I tap his name on my phone, deciding to call him back. If he isn't going to be smart and leave a voicemail, he's going to have to take my call at eight in the morning and explain himself instead.
After three rings, he finally picks up the phone with silence. A short second passes until he speaks. "Hello?" he asks, his voice sounding groggy and low through the phone.
"Chase?" I respond back with another question. His voice is so different, I can hardly register that it's him.
"What's up?" He asks softly. He sounds exhausted—he must've been sleeping. Of course.
"Seriously? You're skipping school today because you overslept?"
He breathes once into the phone. "What are you talking about?"
"Why aren't you here?"
"I'm sick, Michelle."
Sick? Are you kidding me? He knows how much I hate being sick; if he ends up infecting me, I'm going to be so upset. "How did you manage to get sick over the weekend?" I ask him angrily.
"I don't know. The rain probably." He barely even tries to answer me before sneezing away from the phone. I recall the last few days when the weather was acting up; it was definitely raining harder than usual. Fine, I guess I'll lay off for now.
"Whatever," I respond, starting to feel bad for grilling him now that I know he's been sick. "Sorry for waking you up; get some rest and feel better soon."
"You want me to feel better?" He asks hopefully, a smile in his voice. This boy is ridiculous.
"I hate being sick, remember? Plus, I still have to meet your parents."
"Speaking of that—"
"Goodbye, Chase," I cut him off swiftly. "Get some sleep."
The dial tone rings once as soon as I press end call and I'm back to being alone for the school day. Walking by myself isn't all that bad, though—especially when there aren't any curious eyes on me because of Chase. I didn't realize how exhausting it was to be so well-known around here. Nobody even really knows me and I'm still drained by the end of the day.
I make it to my locker and start putting my things away when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around half expecting to see Chase surprising me for no good reason, or even Miles trying to tempt me even more with his big brown eyes and charming dimples. But instead, I make eye contact with Holly Jones, of all people. Her eyes are demanding as always, but her aura is the most unsure I've ever seen it before.
"Hey," she says suddenly with the same sharpness her tone usually has. "How are things going with Chase?"
It takes me a moment to register the last twenty seconds. I didn't expect to be talking to Holly without Chase by my side, and I'm definitely not prepared to answer her random question on the spot.
"Um, good?" I try my best to respond. Her arms are crossed and her face doesn't budge.
"Good. Good," she says with eyebrows still furrowed, but she still doesn't leave.
"Did you need to talk to me about anything else?" I push her.
She frowns. "Um— well, maybe. Do you think you could give me some advice?"
Okay, hold up. Holly Jones—half-sister of Chase Matthews, strong, independent woman, one of the most popular girls in the entire school—is asking me for advice? What situation could she possibly need advice for that she doesn't already know how to handle?
"Sure?" I respond with something that sounds more like a question than an answer. "What do you need help with?"
She takes a deep, desperate breath before speaking once more. "How do I get Alejandro to talk to me? Like, really talk to me? We do all the things we need to do for the game, and I don't want him to fall in love with me or anything, but I just want someone to talk to, you know?"
I nod carefully. "I get it."
"It's just— I'm with him all day, every day, for the most part. I want to be able to find some common ground with him so that I have a friend, but he only wants to kiss me or touch me or— well, you know. Do you have any advice for me?"
I sigh, trying my best to take in her situation. I wish I could give her the answer she wants, or even a good one at that, but I'm not even sure where to begin with this. If I could have things my way, I wouldn't have to interact with Chase as much as I do now. But Holly seems like she really needs someone who will be there for her, and if it's Alejandro she wants to be close to in that way, then the only thing I can do is try to help her.
"Well," I begin, "Honestly, I think communication is a big step. The first thing you should do is tell him how you're feeling so that he doesn't move on thinking his satisfaction is mutual, you know?"
"You really think so?"
I shrug with an unsure smile. "That's what I would do. And Chase never shuts up about his life to me, so something must be working."
Holly raises her eyebrows and chuckles. "Okay, well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."
"I hope it goes well," I tell her and she smiles at me.
"Thanks." She runs a finger through her blonde hair. "I'll get out of your hair now."
"Let me know what happens," I smile genuinely at her.
She nods and walks away, leaving me alone with myself yet again. But on the bright side, I think Holly and I are... friends now? That's good, right?
///
Walking back home after classes is not as refreshing as I imagined it would be. I don't have Chase to piss me off and tease me, I don't have Isaac to ride back with me and blast his annoying pop music—hell, I don't even have Evil Anna to make my life a living hell. For once, school is actually boring again, and I'm not sure I'm a fan of it.
Still, it's much better than walking through the door and being forced to talk to my father.
"Michelle, sweetheart," he tries getting my attention for the first time since coming home on Saturday. My name on his lips is disgusting; I can barely even bare to look at him.
"No," I simply say, trying my best to push past him.
"Please, let me explain myself—"
"Explain yourself? There's nothing to explain, Dad. You're a shitty person who put your hands on your wife and your own daughter because you don't know how to control yourself when you're drunk. I'm not giving you another chance, no matter what you or mom have to say, so you can get that out of your mind right now."
"You won't even hear me out?"
I can't believe him. "Are you joking? No, I won't 'hear you out' Dad, you abused me. You don't deserve to explain yourself, or apologize, or reconcile with me. You are dead to me."
"Michelle, I'm sorry—"
"I don't care. The only one you should feel sorry for here is yourself."
With that, I turn away from him without another word. He doesn't deserve my time, and the last thing I would ever want to do right now is give him any sort of sympathy. That man is not my father anymore.
Wednesday, January 17th
As great as my luck is, Chase never showed up to school on Tuesday. He claimed he was still recovering, which meant I was alone for another day. But thankfully, nobody said anything to me or tried to apologize for being a shitty person, so it was easier to handle.
Today, Chase's golden brown curls are right where they're supposed to be, and I can't help but smile. As soon as I feel it on my face, I wipe it off so that he doesn't say anything stupid about it, but I can't deny that I'm happy to see him for once. After spending two entire days in my lonesome, texting Isaac occasionally and eating lunch alone, it's nice to have someone to talk to again; I guess Holly was right about that.
I make my way closer to Chase as his body is leaning casually against the wall by the entrance. He acknowledges me with a nod when he sees me, and I can't help but notice he looks no different. I guess some part of me expected him to show up looking like a mess after being sick, but nope—annoyingly gorgeous as always.
"Feeling better?" I ask when I approach him.
"A lot better," he says as we begin walking toward my locker. "I took your advice and went back to sleep."
"Did you sleep the entire two days?" My voice comes out in a chuckle.
He shrugs. "Probably."
I shake my head at him and grab all my things from my locker. Chase just stands there, no smartass remarks like usual, looking at the ground in silence. It's definitely worrying, seeing as he would normally take any opportunity he can get to annoy me.
"You okay?" I ask, taking the plunge. He immediately looks up—well, down—at me with confusion.
"I'm fine, why?"
He looks okay now that he's looking at me, but I swear he seemed so off just a few seconds ago. But whatever; I must be making a big deal out of nothing.
"Nevermind," I brush it off, shrugging my shoulders and finishing up in my locker.
"Oh!" Chase catches my attention after a few more seconds of silence. "About meeting my parents—"
"Yeah, when are we doing that?"
"Tonight."
"Tonight?" I repeat. "That's... soon. Are you sure you're not sick anymore?"
His eyes send me a skeptical glance. "Would I be looking like this if I was still sick?" He asks, his hands gesturing up and down his body.
I roll my eyes and agree. "Okay, tonight's good. What time?"
"I'll pick you up at seven."
"Sounds good," I close my locker. "See you later."