When my alarm went off, I grabbed my phone to shut it off, checking for a message.
A missed call.
Something.
Grimacing, I realized my phone was dry and rolled onto my back, glaring up at the ceiling. What the f**k was that last night? Shutting me out of his room. No, it was worse than that—he’d completely ignored me. I’d sat outside his door for a good while, waiting, annoyed. I’d talked through the door too, told him I was sorry. I am sorry. He never opened the door.
It was really late when I finally realized he wasn’t going to let me in.
Even later when I finally got up off the ground and made my way home.
Irritated, I dragged myself out of bed, going about my rushed morning routine, jogging downstairs to find mom at the counter, swigging some coffee.
