My phone vibrates and my breath catches, the tiniest bit of hope forcing its way into my chest. Maybe she liked my message. Maybe she’s into awkward losers with anxiety issues. Maybe.

I flip it over only to see a text from my mother with my flight information. There’s a forced apology saying that she’ll be coming on a slightly later flight but she’s arranged a car for me when I land in Seattle. It’s fine. I mean, it’s not, but it has to be. Yay, three-hour layover in a strange airport by myself.

I stare down at the screen for a few more seconds, waiting just in case. Allison crosses her arms and frowns at me from the other side of our giant corner booth. I flash her the most sarcastic smile I can muster. “I’m taking a break,” I say.

“A break from what, staring at your phone?”

I scratch the side of my eye with my middle finger and walk away. My dad catches it and narrows his eyes—because of course this would all go down during the one moment he deigns to show up at the booth instead of schmoozing in the casino—and god, can I just not disappoint him for five seconds?

His jaw ticks as he walks toward me, and shit, this is going to be bad. This is going to be really bad. Dad’s temper is never that great, but Dad’s living-in-a-casino-and-partying-around-the-clock-for-three-days temper is next level. As in, last year he made half our teardown team cry because they parked to the right of the loading dock and he said to park on the left, so.

But right when he gets to me, right as he opens his mouth to let me know exactly how much of a fuckup I am . . . one of his buddies walks up, and Dad’s whole demeanor changes. His face softens and he looks welcoming, almost happy, as he clamps his hand onto the other man’s shoulder and says, “Chuckie, where have you been hiding?” And off they go back out to the casino. To the casino bars, more accurately.

And okay, nice. Crisis averted, I guess? As long as I don’t think too much about how he must not even care enough to yell. It’s fine. It’s whatever. It’s not like today can get any shittier anyway. I have a long flight alone ahead of me, and Peak never texted me back or even came to see me—unless she did, and that’s why she’s not writing back, which sucks worse. And what right does Allison have to question me, anyway? I’m an Everlasting, at least by blood, and she’s just my father’s latest lay. So yeah, maybe I flip her off again, just once more, as I disappear into the mass of people around us.

For once, I think I have something better to do.

•  •  •