Stay with me

Chapter 3: Addison

Once we're far enough away that she can't hear us, I tell Alec what happened. By the time I'm finished we're in the car and I'm turning the keys into the ignition. I pull out of the badly parked parking space. 

    Menchies is only five minutes away so it shouldn't be that  terrible listening to Alec. (Correcting me on my driving skills the whole time, might I add) 

"Okay, Is it just me or is Mrs. Potter a little too old to be wearing those type of outfits?" He asks. I glance at him from the corner of my eye and he's looking at me expectantly hoping that for once I'll agree with him. Oh, how wrong he is to hope.

"She's not that old, only like, thirty-five and how many times do I have to tell you It's Ms. Potter not Mrs. Her husband died a couple of years ago." 

I practically see him deflate. Maybe I should've just agreed with him but then again I didn't want to call Ms. Potter old because that, I feel, would be rude.

"But her husband died and he was like sixty." He counters.

"Look. Just because someone dies of a heart attack doesn't make them sixty-years-old." I say, getting slightly annoyed.

He can tell I'm getting annoyed too so he quickly approaches a different, semi-safer subject.

"How's your dad? I didn't see him earlier." He asks his facial features softening.

I know he's genuinely asking because he cares and not because he's just trying to change topics. So, I answer truthfully.

    "He's doing better. He still gets sad sometimes, which is to be expected. But not as much as before." I brighten, trying to have a cheerful face but probably looking like a donkey trying to smile. "Dr. Wrighte is even thinking about taking him off his anti-depressants." I say and seeing that Menchies in on my right, I put on my right hand signal, turn right and pull into a parking space.

    I turn the car of, taking the keys out of ignition and turn to face Alec. My lip trembles and I can already feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. Alec takes me into a awkward type hug, considering the fact that I'm leaning over a bunch of crap he doesn't need. I sniffle and am surprised to find that I am able to talk.

"I know I should be happy for him that he's getting better but I just can't. I want him to be happier. But he's not. He's just... less sad."

Once I've calmed down a little, I say "You need to clean the junk out of your car." Pressing two fingers against my rib cage, I open the car door and straighten my body from being hunched in such a small car and now I'm able to find out that I, yes, Indeed have a bruise.

    "Your collection of colored pencils just attacked me. I don't understand it, your apartment is as clean as can be but your car,  which is a nice car by the way, looks like trash on the inside. I'm not trying to offend you." I say when he gives me a wounded expression. "Just clean your car." I add in the most serious tone I can muster. Which is not that serious considering the fact that along with Alec's wounded facial expression, he has a hand to his chest and is pretending to fall backwards. "I'm hurt." He says.

"Oh grow up and buy me some ice cream." He gives me a look. "Please?" I add.

    We walk in and the bell rings over our heads attached to the door. Typical ice cream place. I look around. There's a couple in the back who are sitting in our seats. I should complain. I should totally complain. We even have our initials carved in the wall behind it. Alec wanted to do it on the table but #1. That would be more noticeable. #2. They switch around the tables too often. But complaining that we have rights to a table that we (Illegally might I add) graffitied would not be the wisest choice, my friend. Not at all.

    Since I really don't feel like getting arrested on my birthday, we get our ice cream, pay, and sit down three tables from our original spot, so we can talk about them without their knowing.

    "The girl even looks bitchy, like she knew that was our table but took it anyway." She has blonde hair up in a high ponytail but still manages to twirl it around her fingers. Ugh. Her boyfriend or whatever he is to her (she could be flirting with her cousin for all I care) is a hispanic guy that's got to be about twenty-two. The girl looks seventeen.

"Pervert"  I think, almost saying it out loud.

    As I throw away my ice cream, the boy waves goodbye to the girl, well she stays here. I don't think the feelings are mutual on her part. 

I tell Alec I'm going to the bathroom and head over there.