out of his SUV and walk towards the basketball courts. He was wearing mesh shorts and a faded black Interpol T - shirt. So maybe his taste in music wasn’t completely tragic. “ Zoey , are you looking?” She elbowed me in the side without taking her eyes from him.
“I see him,” I said. He ducked and a ball sailed over his head.
“Did you see that, babe?” Jordan asked, calling my attention back to him. He was standing beside the rail he’d been trying to grind on , and failing at , all afternoon.
“Sorry, I missed it,” I said.
He glanced over and caught onto what we’d been looking at. A few of the guys had now stripped off their shirts, but to my disappointment, Matt wasn’t one of them. Jordan walked over to us and sat down, taking a swig of my Diet Coke.
“What’ve they got that I don’t?” he asked, puffing out his chest.
Morgan looked hi m over with an eye brow raised, h er mouth quirked up. “Let’s see, for starters, pectorals, trimmed nose hair , actual athleticism …”
“ Nevermind .” Jordan held up his hand in front of her face. He pulled a cigarette out of hi s pocket and lit it, then bl ew the smoke in Morgan’s direction .
She wav ed a hand in front of her face, clearing the puff of smoke , then took the cigarette from him and took a drag. “ Zoey ’ s gonna get with that.” She pointed at Matt with the cigarette.
I rolled my eyes. Morgan was seriously delusional sometimes. “I’m going — I’ve still go tta pack,” I said, standing up and dusting the grass from my jeans. I left them with Jordan glancing between Matt and his own flexed bicep with a confused look on his face . I looked over once more to see Matt take a shot and miss. Guess he wasn’t so lucky after all.
*****
After stuffing most of what I owned into our ratty black suitcase, I sat down at my desk and wrote out a detailed itinerary of that week’s household routine . Ty had band practice after soccer on Tuesdays and wasn’t home until nine, Cora had swim lessons on Wednesday, Charlie should play outside, not sit in front of his video games after school and Pete needed reminders about studying his spelling words and had a diorama due on Thursday for social studies . Charlie needed a refill on his ADD meds and needed to hav e his paper on Egypt finished by Thursday , since he was giving an oral book report on Friday, a nd there were parent - teacher conferences at the middle school on Tuesday night. The chances of all of this be ing accomplished with me gone were slim to none. I tried not to think about that as I jogged down the stairs to start the macaroni and cheese for dinner.
Chapter Eight
Matt
We pulled up to the airport, and I assumed I’d just jump out at the curb, but my dad pulled into the covered ramp and took twent y minutes finding a spot to park just so they could walk me in side . It was already almost 7:20 and I hoped the group was still waiting by the Air France counter.
We were about to walk through the sliding doors into the airport when a commotion at the curbside drop - off caught my attention. Zoey was being accosted by a little girl — the same one that had been with her at the Laundromat.
Zoey dropped down on her knees, smoothing the little girl’s wild h air back from her face and talked to her in a low voice I couldn’t understand . She stood up and handed her dad a sheet of paper, which he folded and tucked into his back pocket. They looked like they were arguing about something, and when I got closer, I heard Zoey say something about staying home.
“Pete’s got a diorama due and Charlie’s got a book report, and Mom… I shouldn’t even be going.”
Her dad shook his head and handed her her backpack. “ We’ll manage, Zoe — you need to go.”
Zoey looked unsure, but shrugged into her backpack. “Dad, don’t forget Pete’s inhaler’s almost out of juice.”
“We’ll get it refilled. Stop worrying and go enjoy
“I see him,” I said. He ducked and a ball sailed over his head.
“Did you see that, babe?” Jordan asked, calling my attention back to him. He was standing beside the rail he’d been trying to grind on , and failing at , all afternoon.
“Sorry, I missed it,” I said.
He glanced over and caught onto what we’d been looking at. A few of the guys had now stripped off their shirts, but to my disappointment, Matt wasn’t one of them. Jordan walked over to us and sat down, taking a swig of my Diet Coke.
“What’ve they got that I don’t?” he asked, puffing out his chest.
Morgan looked hi m over with an eye brow raised, h er mouth quirked up. “Let’s see, for starters, pectorals, trimmed nose hair , actual athleticism …”
“ Nevermind .” Jordan held up his hand in front of her face. He pulled a cigarette out of hi s pocket and lit it, then bl ew the smoke in Morgan’s direction .
She wav ed a hand in front of her face, clearing the puff of smoke , then took the cigarette from him and took a drag. “ Zoey ’ s gonna get with that.” She pointed at Matt with the cigarette.
I rolled my eyes. Morgan was seriously delusional sometimes. “I’m going — I’ve still go tta pack,” I said, standing up and dusting the grass from my jeans. I left them with Jordan glancing between Matt and his own flexed bicep with a confused look on his face . I looked over once more to see Matt take a shot and miss. Guess he wasn’t so lucky after all.
*****
After stuffing most of what I owned into our ratty black suitcase, I sat down at my desk and wrote out a detailed itinerary of that week’s household routine . Ty had band practice after soccer on Tuesdays and wasn’t home until nine, Cora had swim lessons on Wednesday, Charlie should play outside, not sit in front of his video games after school and Pete needed reminders about studying his spelling words and had a diorama due on Thursday for social studies . Charlie needed a refill on his ADD meds and needed to hav e his paper on Egypt finished by Thursday , since he was giving an oral book report on Friday, a nd there were parent - teacher conferences at the middle school on Tuesday night. The chances of all of this be ing accomplished with me gone were slim to none. I tried not to think about that as I jogged down the stairs to start the macaroni and cheese for dinner.
Chapter Eight
Matt
We pulled up to the airport, and I assumed I’d just jump out at the curb, but my dad pulled into the covered ramp and took twent y minutes finding a spot to park just so they could walk me in side . It was already almost 7:20 and I hoped the group was still waiting by the Air France counter.
We were about to walk through the sliding doors into the airport when a commotion at the curbside drop - off caught my attention. Zoey was being accosted by a little girl — the same one that had been with her at the Laundromat.
Zoey dropped down on her knees, smoothing the little girl’s wild h air back from her face and talked to her in a low voice I couldn’t understand . She stood up and handed her dad a sheet of paper, which he folded and tucked into his back pocket. They looked like they were arguing about something, and when I got closer, I heard Zoey say something about staying home.
“Pete’s got a diorama due and Charlie’s got a book report, and Mom… I shouldn’t even be going.”
Her dad shook his head and handed her her backpack. “ We’ll manage, Zoe — you need to go.”
Zoey looked unsure, but shrugged into her backpack. “Dad, don’t forget Pete’s inhaler’s almost out of juice.”
“We’ll get it refilled. Stop worrying and go enjoy
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