What Her Dad Doesn't Know(10)

Dad puts the bowl of sundae in front of me.

“What about you?” he asks.

I almost choke on my spoon. WHAT?! He knows!? I look up, blood rushing to my face, but he’s busy shaking out the last of the sprinkles onto his own bowl.

“What about me?” I venture.

“Do you have someone in your life?”

Oh. That’s what he meant. My secret is safe. At least, it is as long as I can calm the hell down.

“Nobody serious,” I say airily, then resolve to change the subject. “This is the best sundae you’ve made yet dad.”

“You say that every time,” he says, but he’s still pleased as punch.

**********

My eyes snap open the next morning. Immediately my first thought is my phone. I grab it, but there’s nothing there. Not a call, not a text, nothing. I unlock it and go straight to Facebook, even though Andrew and I have never ever exchanged a message on there before. Nothing. My phone buzzes, and for half a second my heart gets all excited, but it’s just Lana asking me how my shift went last night. I don’t bother with a reply. I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do anything with Andrew for the sake of my dad, but I had a dream last night where we bumped into each other and I’m waking up still wet. I want to see him again. I want to kiss him again.

Last night Andrew mentioned that I should send my resume over for an internship position with his company. It would be rude not to. It’s 1 p.m. now, and I figure that he should be awake. I pull my laptop up from where it hangs out beside my bed on the floor. Opening up the lid, I pull out my resume. It works great for getting a waitressing job, but terrible for an internship. I spend thirty minutes fiddling around, deleting and moving things around until I’m satisfied. Then I pull up Andrew’s email and hit send. Once that’s done, I unlock my phone again and send off a text.

I just sent you my resume. Thanks for giving me a chance!

I scrutinize the message. Does that sound too peppy? It had taken everything in me not to send a text message before bed last night asking him where we stood. That just sounds desperate and tween-y. But should I mention it sort of casually? I could add on a little something now that I had a reason to get in touch with him.

I just sent you my resume. I appreciate the opportunity. Also, thank you for saving me last night.

Blech. I sound so... stiff. I frown and delete the whole thing. I probably shouldn’t say anything at all. Wait for Andrew to acknowledge it. For all I know he completely regrets it and never wants to talk to me again. It’s not fair. I’m twenty-one years old. I can even drink now! So why can’t I be kissed by a man that I like? The fact that he’s older than me is a great thing. Guys my age can hardly see past the next weekend of partying, never mind the rest of their lives. Andrew already succeeding in life should bring my parents relief. They would never have to worry whether I’ll be okay or not. I’m caught up by my own argument and I drift off for a few moments before I snap back. I need to send off this text before it’s too late and it becomes obvious that I’ve spent far too much time on it.

Did you get my resume?

I hit send and hold my breath. Nothing happens. I stare at the screen, willing the little speech bubble to pop up. A minute passes, then another. A watched pot never boils. I put the phone down, then get off the bed and put on some sweatpants. I hate wearing anything but a tank top and panties to bed. It just gets too hot. I pick up my phone again. Still nothing.

Disappointed, I head out of my bedroom and down the stairs. My mom’s up making pancakes for brunch, and my dad has the newspaper spread out in front of him. I tried to show him how he can get the news on his phone, but he wasn’t interested. In that way he’s the complete opposite of Andrew. I’m pretty sure that if it wasn’t for the fact that he lost his flip phone, he would never have upgraded.

“Morning Mom. Dad.”

I sit down and pull some pancakes onto my plate, drizzling it with maple syrup. I’m just about to cut into my stack when my phone buzzes and I drop my silverware with a clash. It’s Andrew! I rearrange my face quickly. I sneak a glance at my dad, but he’s still busy behind his paper. That was close. My excitement is short lived though.

Yes.

One measly word. I unlock my phone anyways, hoping for something more, but that’s it. I check my email, and there’s nothing there either. It’s like he’s brushed away what happened last night. Suddenly I’m doubting what happened. Did he start the kiss, or did I? Was he just being polite? Was I being pushy? Maybe he just didn’t want to cause a scene. Was that why he left so suddenly? But then my phone buzzed again.