4
Saige
Dinner with Callan wasn’t much different than coffee. He chatted, and I offered my two cents if he asked. I didn’t expound on my home life he’d already dragged from me the year before. He didn’t ask after my parents—and I didn’t offer.
Neither noticed when I got home, nor did they care when I went straight to my bedroom without cleaning up my trail through the house like usual.
After a lovely dinner with my friend, bitterness damn near choked me at having to pick my way through trash just to get to the only place I could call my own. Even though I’d had a good time, even smiling a few times, tears soaked my cheeks and pillow as I lay in bed that night.
Callan hadn’t kissed me, hadn’t even suggested he’d wanted to. Perhaps after the long winter, he needed an ear more than a fem
