isn’t the nineteen-fifties—if you love the boy, tell him. Don’t wait for him to tell you.” He touches my shoulder and walks down the path toward the car.
I stare at the contract in my hands. The buyout alone would put my entire family in a much better financial position. We wouldn’t have to worry about Eli’s medical bills and therapy sessions. Elsie could leave community college and go to a four-year school with room and board. And I’d be out of the bagel business. No more early mornings and hairnets or cramps in my hands.
But all that flashes in my mind is Seth. I know he’d understand if I did this.
Fishing my phone out of my purse, I pull up his contact, smiling at the fact that I never changed his name.
Me: Can we meet before the party?
The three dots appear but disappear immediately. I wait for a text to come through, but it doesn’t. I thought he said he wasn’t working today. This entire week, he’s ventured out to take pictures of Cliffton Heights for his portfolio for the gallery on Monday. Maybe he’s just busy.
Me: Call me when you can.
I stuff my phone into my purse, walking around the lake and trying to remember what it is I love to do. When the possibility of starting on a path toward your dream career is placed in your lap, it’s hard to figure out what would bring true happiness. Especially when my mind is preoccupied with Seth and how much I love him. My dad saw right through me and I’m thinking everyone else did too. Everyone but Seth.
Later that evening, I still haven’t heard from Seth except a message to say he’s running late and he’ll meet me at Porterhouse.
I drive over with my parents and Eli, wishing it was Seth I was pulling up to the restaurant with. The sensation in my gut says something isn’t right. But maybe it’s just because after this party, I plan on telling Seth exactly how I feel about him. I have no idea what my future looks like, but I want him in it.
Once we’re in the banquet room, I take in the purple and silver decorations our moms put up. With my purple dress, it feels like it’s my sweet sixteen and we color-coded the entire thing. I only picked purple because Seth said I looked stunning in it. If this was his sick twisted joke, I’m going to punch him.
“Evan!” Rian and Dylan walk toward me. “You look gorgeous.”
I hug them both. “Thank you. Have you seen Seth?”
Dylan looks around and shakes his head. “Not yet. I’m gonna go get some drinks.”
Rian nods and waves to him, linking her arm with mine. “I need more cream cheese and more flavors. That cinnamon one was perfect. Have you ever thought about making frostings?” She smiles at me, but my eyes are following Dylan.
He was acting weird. He tucks himself into a corner of the room and pulls out his phone. That sour feeling in my gut comes alive again. Something is up. I should’ve known when Seth never called me back. I dismissed it as the artist version of him being distracted, but I think I was really wrong.
“So come by next week so we can talk, okay?” Rian says.
I nod, but we get swallowed up by the rest of Seth’s friends, who hug me and offer their congratulations, knowing full well that this is all a lie. Looking over Sierra’s shoulder, I see all the guys huddled together with their hands stuffed in their pockets and shaking their heads.
“Have you guys seen Seth?” I ask.
Blanca looks at Sierra, and they both shake their heads.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Blanca rushes to add.
I nod because that’s all I seem to be able to do.
Mrs. Andrews spots me and waves, breaking the distance between us. “Oh, sweetie, you look so beautiful.” She wraps her arms around me. “You all do.”
We all gush over her dress—which isn’t purple.
“Have you seen Seth?” I ask Mrs. Andrews.
She shakes her head and my shoulders fall.
We go through the entire cocktail hour and everyone’s trying to paste on their best smiles, but I see the concerned whispers. Where’s Seth? Why isn’t he here yet? What could have kept him?
When the banquet guy asks everyone to be seated, Seth finally walks in the room. But he’s not dressed in the suit he said he would be wearing. His hair isn’t gelled back, and he hasn’t