Page 49 of The Dare

I don’t mention her efforts, instead holding up the cardboard trays of wrapped food and fresh coffee.

“Not hungry,” she says quickly, avoiding my eyes and looking out the window again.

“I thought you wanted to drop all the bullshit,” I tell her, sitting down opposite her but leaving the door open.

Her eyes dart from me to the door and then scoffs with scorn.

“Oh, okay. So nowyou’regonna tell me how things should be? How I should feel, is that it?” she spits.

I feel a stab of pain in my chest.

Suze and I have our fights, our disagreements all the time. But nothing like this.

Everything about her mood and behavior seems so… final.

Feeling suddenly drained, I twist my face and shake my head.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” I ask her.

Feeling like I’m asking the whole world the same question.

Her eyes narrow on mine and she draws her knees up and clasps them with her hands in defiant silence.

“It’s like you only seem happy when I’m miserable.” I realize. Having a moment-by-moment realization about a lot of things in my life up until now.

Suzanna, my mom.

My dad.

Even myself.

I move to set the food down closer to her, noticing her drawing back from me.

“Suze?” I ask her, coming as close as I dare. “It’s me here, okay… Let’s talk. Tell me what you’re thinking otherwise how can I—”

“Your stuff’s there,” she cuts me off dryly, moving her eyes to the neat pile by the narrow doorway.

It’s almost like dealing with a child when she’s like this, but I’ve never seen her so bad.

She’s changed since I’ve been away. But I guess I’m one to talk.

We sit in silence for a while, the sound of Suze’s stomach growling as she eyes the food I brought finally making me smile as I try not to laugh.

I think it might be our way out of this fight. But she’s not laughing.

With a sigh, I stand to leave. There’s no point wasting my time here when I could actually feel happy with someone else who actually wants me around.

Michael’s waiting for me, my whole life’s waiting for me.

“I should’ve made you pick truth again,” Suze finally groans, right before I make it out of the door.

I turn to face her. Her eyes are wide, shining with tears.

“Why do you hate Michael so much?” I ask her plainly. I have to know.

She finally does laugh, but it’s an ironic laugh.

Spiteful.