31

Dad was sitting by the bonfire in the backyard with Roy and a bunch of the others. The conversation died when I stepped into the circle of light.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said. “Just wanted to tell you I’m home.”

“How was the game?” Roy asked.

“We lost,” I said. “But the stars were nice.”

“Sleep tight, princess.” Dad’s face was half in shadow, angular and old-looking. I wanted to sit on the ground next to him and lean against his knee and have him smooth my hair back and tell me that everything was going to be all right, but the awful thing was, I wasn’t sure it could be. He was sober, still drinking soda, surrounded by guys who understood everything he’d been through, but his good mood of the afternoon had vanished. He looked lost again, haunted.

One of the younger soldiers got up and offered me a chair, but I muttered a quick g’night, and hurried inside.

Michael was parked in front of the television gaming with a couple of the privates, dribbling chew-stained spit into a paper cup. I went straight to my room without saying a word. Didn’t bother with a shower or brushing my teeth. I locked my bedroom door, changed into my pj’s, and crawled into bed with a book and my phone.

Finn texted just as I got comfortable:

 

am home

you ok?

yep

 

I texted back.

I waited, staring at the screen. Should I say anything else? Were we supposed to text all night long?

 

ttyt?

 

he asked.

 

sure

 

I hesitated, then held my breath and typed quickly:

 

flowers were sweet

stars spectacular

thx

 

He didn’t reply and he didn’t reply and he didn’t reply. I smacked myself in the forehead. “Anti-date,” what was that supposed to mean? He thinks I’m a nutcase now, a total crazy cakes, I said I was going to shove his nose into his brain, who says crap like that? and then my phone lit up again.

 

nxt to you

i didnt notice any stars

night