CHAPTER 19

Going home was weird. I mean, Jeremy Paris was sitting in the front seat and that was usually my seat. Up front, right next to my mom. It was too weird seeing him there, and me being in the back. As far back as I can remember, I never sat in the back seat. Unless Zac was with us, I was always up front.

I walked into the house, my mother close behind me, just in case I would lose my balance or what not. Shocked, I saw boxes and boxes filling up our living room.

“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked, sensing that something was going on. She looked uneasily at Jeremy Paris, then back at me and tried to look happy.

“Honey, your father is going to move it with us.” She told me. What?! Moving in with us?

“But there isn’t enough room! Our house is just the right size for two people! It’ll be too crowded with three people living here!” I complained. Actually, our house wasn’t too small, I just thought it would make a good argument.

“Don’t argue with me right now Angela. The doctors want you to stay calm for awhile.” She warned me. Ugh, whatever.

I ran up to my room, slammed my door and threw myself across my bed. What a homecoming, I thought. I cried. I cried for reasons that I don’t even know. But I needed to cry and get some frustration out.

I guess that I cried myself to sleep because the next thing I knew, I woke up and it was dark outside. A note was slipped under my door that said “You slept through dinner and I didn’t want to wake you. You know where the fridge is if you get hungry. Love Mom” Wow, how lovely. Looking over at my phone, then at the clock, I wondered if it was too late to call Zac.

Dismissing the time, I called him. It rang and rang and rang. Great, I thought. Just as I was about to hang up, someone picked up and I heard a groggy hello.

“Zac?” I asked the unrecognizable voice.

“Yeah?” he asked. Good, it was him.

“It’s Ang. Look, sorry for calling so late - ”

“Is everything all right?” he asked, suddenly sounding wide awake.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just, um, wanted to talk.” I replied. I heard him sigh.

“But it’s so late...” he groaned.

“Can you come over?” I asked him. I needed to see him. I wanted to see him. Had we kissed before? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t figure out the truth from my dream anymore. Everything seemed like a big fuzzy picture and that nothing ever happened, regardless if it was reality or if it was just in my dream.

“Will your mom care?”

“Who knows. Come over, please.” I begged.

“I’m leaving now.” He said. “See you in a few.”

I held the phone to my ear until I heard him hang up his end. Then I cradled the receiver in my hands, setting it down gently. I crawled out my window, sat on the roof of the front porch and waited. I didn’t know how long I sat there waiting for him, but eventually I saw him walking along the sidewalk, still in his pajamas. I smiled when I saw him, he smiled, too.

I went back inside the house and then downstairs to open the front door. Seeing him filled me with such happiness and joy that I almost was scared when I felt what I was feeling when I looked at him. I loved him and I knew what I was feeling was love.