"... and after about an hour, we sort of just slowed down and talked, cuddling under a blanket. We fell asleep for a few hours. He left around one in the morning and said he would call me."

Tracy sat flabbergasted at her desk as I described the activities from Saturday night. When I came in on Monday morning, she said I had a glow and looked "suspiciously happy" and wanted details.

"Was he good kisser?" she sipped her coffee. I was positive our work efficiency had gone down since we started talking, but I could honestly not care less in that moment. "Like is he sloppy, or is he like passionate?"

"Oh, very passionate, I mean it was just so..." I leaned back in my chair and sighed, "so good."

"Where were his hands?" she wiggled her eyebrows.

Now, normally, I wouldn't give too much detail, but after hearing her talk to me about her and the forklift operator, I genuinely think my experience was rated PG.

"Well, at first, they were on my waist, and then he sort of placed one on my neck, but like gently. Then they sort of roamed all over, but nothing too inappropriate. Just a little." I thought back to when one hand slipped to my chest for a second before quickly pulling away.

She seemed so happy for me, giggling with joy. "So now what?"

I shrugged, "what do you mean?"

"Are you going to go out again, or you know... sleep with him?"

J.D. did call me the next day and we spoke on the phone for a little while during physical therapy, he even texted me this morning and told me to have a great day and wished me luck on my test for school. I didn't know how to answer Tracy because I wasn't sure.

"I mean, I want to, but I don't know." Our conversation stopped when someone walked into the office, and we had to get back to work.

After the day was over, I made it home and ordered a pizza for dinner, not exactly feeling up to make dinner after my finals. My phone buzzed as I watched TV, and my mood immediately boosted.

J.D.: hey  how did your test go??

Me: Good, I think I will find out next week.

J.D.: I'm sure you did well smarty pants.

Me: we shall see. What are you doing?

J.D.: I am cleaning my place and taking a well-deserved break before I make a grilled cheese. It's my reward for cleaning.

Me: It's late for cleaning

J.D.: Well, I work all day and never have time for it, and I wanted my place to be clean when I invite you over.

I gasped, almost choking on my bite of pizza.

Me: Oh, I see  how kind of you. When will I be able to see this clean home?

J.D.: Well, I know you have a busy schedule, so maybe Friday?

Me: That sounds good. Can't wait!

J.D.: I can't wait to see you again.

Me: Really, I wonder why lol

J.D.: it's not just the kissing you're fun to talk to

Me: Kissing is a perk, then?

J.D.: a big one, yeah, lol

We texted back and forth until I eventually called it a night and went to bed.

I was almost sound asleep when my phone went off with another text message. I smiled, but upon further inspection, I realized it was not J.D.

Zackary: Hey, it's your brother. Dad said you wanted to talk to me?

I'm going to kill my dad.

*

I didn't bother knocking when I made it to my father's house that Wednesday afternoon. I walked into his living room and saw him sitting and eating a bag of chips. He seemed relaxed and was in his going out clothes.

"Hey, kiddo." He smiled at me.

It was difficult to be mad at my father mostly because he wasn't a mean man or did things out of spite. Him giving my brother my phone number was his way of trying to fix things. I understood it from a parent's point of view, but I was still mad because this was between two siblings.

"You gave Zack my new number?" I stood by the door. "And you lied and said I wanted to talk to him."

He let out a deep sigh and paused the television, turning on his lights with his remote and putting his hand out as if to tell me to sit down. "I can't stand so you sit." His voice stern.

I sat down and shook my head in frustration, "dad, I asked you to stay out of it, you ignored me and then I told you I wouldn't talk to him and again you went behind my back and told him that I wanted to talk. I have nothing to say to him he made his choice by calling me unwell and dramatic after mom's funeral and taking everyone's side over mine!" I looked away and tried to calm down. "I tried to make up with him after your accident, but he still blames me - "

"My accident wasn't your fault, and your brother knows that!"

I stood this time and yelled, "Does he! Because at the end of the day, I blame myself for it! He's just another person who loves to remind me!"

My dad moved out to Missouri after he sold his business. It wasn't exactly my favorite choice, but I accepted it. When he left, I felt lonely and scared and flew out to see him every few weeks. It was one night that I was out here that I called him to pick me up from the airport during a storm. His car slid, and he landed upside down in a ditch. It had been a whole day before someone found him, and his leg had been damaged, an infection spreading up his leg from his foot. He had a few issues over the years due to him being diabetic, but this infection wouldn't go down, and it became more obvious as time went by that his foot would have to be amputated.

A part of me knew that if I hadn't shown up, he would have been okay, but my dad reassured me that it was just a freak accident. When my brother showed up to the hospital, he gave me the cold shoulder and told me that it was my fault this happened.

Maybe that's why I stayed here in this town, maybe that's why I punished myself by keeping to myself for so long and maybe that's why I did things that made my father happy and stuck to a routine around him for the last two years.

"Zamora." My father stood and looked at me. "When your mom died, I stopped taking care of myself, and I let myself get sick, and I stopped going to the doctors, and I just wanted to take care of you kids. I drove to that airport to pick you up because I love you, and I would have done it in a tornado or a snowstorm a million times to get you even if it meant losing my damn leg. Your brother said what he said because he was scared and alone and needed to lash out at someone. I've talked to him, and I want you two to talk. He's told me he has guilt for what he did."

"No." I shook my head. "I don't want to hear it."

"Zamora, please?" he begged me. "I'm not asking you to be his best friend, but you must understand that he also lost a lot after everything. "

I didn't say anything, just sat down again and took a deep breath, counting to one hundred and attempting to prevent a panic attack. Maybe I was acting like a child, but my brother started it, and he should be the one to apologize. "Whatever." I mumbled to myself. "This is such bullshit."

My dad began looking around as if to think of what to say. "Bullshit or not, he will be here on Thanksgiving for the long weekend."

My eyes widened and I curse, "what the fuck, you told me he would be here for Christmas? Were you just going to spring this on me last minute in hopes I couldn't leave?"

"Well, I invited him a while ago and this time he said yes. If you leave, I will find you young lady. Patty has invited us to her home for thanksgiving you're off the hook for dinner."

I scoff, "what, is she your girlfriend now?"

He doesn't say anything for long minute, "I don't know, yesterday J.D. stopped by and when I asked him if you two hung out the boy couldn't look me in the eyes, want to tell me what's going on there."

"N-no, he and I are f-friends, and I am going now to the kitchen away from you." I stood and walked away, avoiding any sort of conversation about what I was doing with that man.

Thanks for reading.xx