The Next Day
“So you guys made up?” Dad asks during breakfast.
“Yep,” Matt replies, fist-bumping Mason.
“But why did you stop talking in the first place?” Dad frowns.
“Private matters,” they smirk together.
“You and your non-verbal communication,” he chuckles, standing up. “Well, I’m off to work. Good luck at your game later.”
“Why don’t you come, Dad? It starts at 4:30,” I say.
“I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart,” he replies, kissing my forehead.
“Dad’s girl,” Matt coughs, and I shoot him a stern look.
“Weren’t you the one who still sleeps with a night light?” I smirk as he blushes.
“It’s for safety in case someone tries to kidnap me,” he defends.
“Whatever, Matt.”
I continue eating and scrolling through Twitter. I see my old post from Friday night, with lots of likes, retwee
