Kiss and Break Up - Ella Fields Page 0,74
mouth being on him.” I nodded. “I’m so damn jealous.”
Her cheeks flamed, her lips flattening, and I laughed, flipping her off before cutting through the students that’d paused to listen and heading to my car.
I took my broken heart pass on Tuesday and bummed around the house, alternating from crying, eating, gaming, and more eating. My appetite had returned, but I wasn’t proud of the choices I made.
I drizzled more chocolate topping into my tub of cherry ice cream, then scooped a massive heaping into my mouth as I restarted the game. Dash hadn’t been online, and I was keeping the hell off social media.
Nothing made an already angry heart angrier faster than people boasting about their best selves.
“Mother trucker,” I spewed, coughing as I swallowed the ice cream before it’d melted enough. I threw the controller down, then picked up the tub as the game unexpectedly updated.
The door opened and closed, and Mom’s heels clipped over the wood as she probably dumped her bag in the kitchen, then she headed this way. “You’ve used your free pass.”
“And I’m using it wisely,” I said around another glob of creamy goodness.
Her lips twisted as she spied the chocolate sauce on my dresser. “Just don’t get any of that on the sheets. I washed them yesterday.”
I waved her off, checking the TV screen and groaning when I saw the update still hadn’t completed.
“Okay, well, I’ll order in some pizza so you can make the most of it.” She left, and I would’ve fist pumped the air at the thought of garlic pizza, but I probably wouldn’t be able to fit it in.
A pounding on the front door had Mom’s heels stopping, and I set my ice-cream tub down, about to restart the game, finally, when a high-pitched voice had my whole body stilling.
I moved to my bedroom door so I could hear better.
“He hasn’t been here,” I heard Mom say.
“You’re lying; he’s always here. It’s like his second home or something.” May made a sniffing sound, and I could picture her nose in the air as she peered down it at our tiny foyer. “I just want to know if he’s okay.”
Mom repeated herself. “He isn’t here, and he hasn’t been for a few days.”
May was quiet a moment. “Well, where’s Peggy? Does she know?”
“What’s wrong? He hasn’t been home?” Mom asked.
May huffed. “If he had, I wouldn’t be subjecting myself to this.”
A short burst of laughter from Mom. “Goodbye, May.”
“Wait,” May said in a rush. “He hasn’t been home since Sunday morning. It’s not like him to be gone for longer than a night. His fucking cat gets anxious.”
Church did get anxious. He’d usually only eat when Dash was home. Still, I couldn’t make myself move. Where had he gone?
“Have you notified the police?” Mom asked.
May didn’t sound like she liked the sound of that. “No, Mikael said he’s just throwing a tantrum, and that we’d only make an unnecessary fuss by acknowledging it.” It was like May to make a fuss but not like this.
“Yet you’re worried,” Mom said.
May said nothing for a long moment. “Let me know if you see him.” Belatedly, she tacked on, “Please.”
Mom must have nodded because then the door shut, and I walked down the hall to peer through the living room curtains as May pulled away from the curb in her pearl white Mercedes.
“You haven’t heard from him?” Mom prodded behind me. “At all?”
I let the curtain fall. “No. Nothing.”
“Yeah, girl! Shake it.”
I swung my hips faster, the black dress I’d stolen from Mom’s closet swishing around my hips, flashing a little too much thigh.
I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything as I kept swigging from the bottle of vodka in my hand, and dancing over the sand.
“Fuck off, Tenterson,” Daphne said, kicking sand at him.
He raised his hands as he backed up. “Hey, she’s dancing of her own accord. I’m just here to watch.”
As were the other five guys creeping closer with drinks in hand. The music coming from the tiny speaker was loud enough to surround half the bay, and I was surprised any of us could hear a thing, let alone talk.
I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to forget, and it’d occurred to me late Wednesday night when I’d found a half-emptied bottle of wine on the counter that Mom and Phil had shared, that alcohol was probably good for that.
I’d finished it, blamed its disappearance on Phil when he’d left for work the next morning after spending