Page 56 of Call You Mine
“Hey, G.”
“Hey,” she echoes, but it comes out muffled from under the fabric of her sweatshirt.
I open the passenger side door of my car, closing it behind her once she’s all the way in.
I didn’t realize how cold I was standing out here waiting for her until she’s safe in the car. I blow into my hands to try to warm them up as I round the hood, hopping into the driver’s seat and cranking up the heat to the highest setting.
Reaching to turn down the music playing—I was sure to put on one of the albums she listened to earlier this week when she and Ava came over for dinner—I ask, “How was school?”
“Fine,” she answers, but her attention is on her phone in her lap.
Pulling out of the school’s parking lot, I contemplate forcing more conversation, but I ultimately decide against it. If she doesn’t want to talk, I’m not going to make her. I turn the music back up, and I notice Georgie puts her phone into the side pocket of her backpack lying by her feet. Within a few seconds, I hear her quietly singing along, and I feel the corners of my lips lift.
I can’t help but mouth the words as the music fills the silence, the lyrics being enough for the two of us right now.
When I pull into Ava’s apartment complex, I check my phone for any updates from her. There’s nothing since she texted me that she got to her mom’s house, and that was a half hour ago.
“Thanks for picking me up,” Georgie says just as I pull into an empty parking space.
“Anytime,” I answer, unlocking the door.
She reaches down to grab her backpack, and I can’t ignore the voice in my head telling me not to just let her head into the apartment alone. It doesn't feel right to leave her, even though Ava didn’t ask me to stay.
Georgie reaches to open the car door, and I turn off the car, opening my own door. “Why don’t I walk you in?”
“You don’t have to. I have a key,” Georgie quickly says before she adds. “It’s no big deal.”
“I know, but I just want to make sure you get home okay,” I tell her, stepping back into the cold February afternoon, the wind blowing against my face hard enough for it to sting.
Georgie scoffs. “Home,” I hear her mutter as she gets out of the car. “Yeah, right.”
We shut our car doors, walking side-by-side toward the front entrance. I glance at her, catching the way her shoulders hunch, and her gaze stays on the ground in front of her. “You want to tell me what that’s about?” I ask, keeping my tone light even though I’m already on edge.
She shrugs, adjusting her backpack higher on her shoulder. “It’s whatever.”
It’s not whatever. I don’t know her well enough to push, but I know enough to recognize when someone’s pretending they’re fine.
We walk side by side toward the front entrance. The wind is strong, and without thinking, I step slightly in front of her, blocking most of it.
“I don’t need you to walk me all the way up,” she says as we reach the front doors. “Seriously.”
I shake my head, pulling it open for her. “Humor me.”
Because the truth is, I don’t trust the universe with her yet, not after everything it’s already done to her.
And I don’t trust myself to walk away like she’s not starting to matter to me.
She walks through the door I hold for her, and I lean myhead back dramatically. “Plus, Ava willkillme if something happens to you.” I follow her in, letting the door shut behind me. Georgie pulls out a key chain from her jacket pocket, a fob and a key on the silver ring. She scans the fob against the scanner to get us through the second set of doors, and I see her press her lips together, like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “And she scares me,” I add, and Georgie’s lips turn up a little more.
“Ava’s notthatscary,” Georgie offers as we make our way through the apartment lobby, heading toward the elevator. Her smile is gone, but I don’t say anything at the risk of her closing back up. She pulls out her phone, spending a few seconds typing something out before sliding it into the pocket of her sweatpants. “I like staying with my sister, but this apartment doesn’t really feel like my home.”
“Where is home to you?” I ask her softly as I reach to push the button for the elevator. I wonder if Georgie might miss her mom, despite everything that’s happened. Sometimes, all we want is the person who takes care of us, even when they are the one to hurt us. “Is home with your mom?”
Georgie shakes her head, looking down at her shoes as we wait for the elevator.
Maybe I pushed her too far, made her uncomfortable with my questions. I regret bringing it up as the ding of the elevator sounds and the doors begin to open, and we step in.
I shift my weight back and forth in my heels as the silence stretches between us, wishing I knew what to say to bring us back to the light-hearted conversation from before, from Monday night at my house.
