37 | a dash of salt

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Jo

"I THOUGHT YOU forgot."

Flynn frowns and crosses his arms. "Why would I forget?"

"Today's almost over," I say quietly. "I wasn't expecting anything from you anymore."

"Well, it's a good thing it's not over yet."

I bite into the cake and grin. "Not too sweet, not too salty."

He smiles and nods. "I know. I made sure of that."

"You made this?"

"No but I was involved in the baking process."

I tuck my hair behind my ears because the breeze is making it go haywire. "What did you do aside from occupying space in the kitchen?"

He laughs quietly. Thank God. I don't want to have to wake anyone up. "I sprinkled a dash of salt."

"Really?"

"Sure. That's what my mum said to do." He pauses, like he's finding the right words to say, then he gestures to the sidewalk. "Walk with me."

"Where are we going?" I ask even though I'm following him already.

We walk further away from my porch and commence our journey on the quiet streets of Lakeville. Under the streetlights swarmed with insects on the sidewalk, his face is clearer and the dust of freckles on his nose are more pronounced than they usually are. His hair is messy but it's messy in an attractive way and a lock of hair falls across his right eye. When he catches me staring, I look away and pretend I'm cleaning off the cake crumbs that may or may not be on my face.

"We're going to get some food." He says. "I'm hungry."

I raise a brow at him. "Aren't you stuffed from dinner or something? Who goes hungry on Thanksgiving?"

He looks at me and then he lifts his thumb to my cheek and brushes it back and forth. "What the fuck happened?"

"Huh?"

"Have you been crying?"

Oh. Maybe I didn't wash my face well enough.

I take a hold of his wrist and take his hand off my face because I'm hot enough to melt on the ground. "It's been a shitty day." I sigh. "My brother's home."

"I'm assuming he's the owner of that truck in front of your porch?"

I nod. "I woke up to a dangerous low, was set up on an insulin pump at the hospital, found out my douchebag brother stole from me and then turns out my dad is living happily with his second family a few miles away from us. Those were the highlights of my day. Wonderful, isn't it?"

He shrugs and his tone sounds playful. "Happy Thanksgiving."

I laugh and nod. "Right. Thanks for being so thoughtful."

"I'm sorry about your dad though." He sounds annoyed. "That sucks."

It does suck. I still haven't fully processed it. It's like I'm going through a state of denial because one thing I never expected my dad to do was abandon his family for another. He had no right to do that. He had no right to give me hope with his yearly messages. Absolutely no right.

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