I’m sitting in the living room, trying to watch this cheesy Sunday afternoon movie, every commercial break a relief. But I can’t do anything else. Can’t read. Can’t move. Can’t think.
The phone is on my lap and when it finally rings, I jump to my feet and pick up the receiver. “Hey,” I say, knowing it’s him.
“Hi,” he says, full of cheer. “Do you wanna come over now?”
Do I? “I’ll be right there.” I throw the phone on the couch and call out to whomever is in the kitchen, “Going to Alistair’s!” I try not to run to his house, but my feet won’t allow it.
When I come up to his door, he’s already opening it. “Hey,” he says. He’s still wearing that white button up shirt, but not the jacket.
I try to slow my breathing down but can’t. “Where are you parents?” He never answers the door.
“They w
