Chapter Thirteen

I frowned, my head shooting toward the door when a knock came at it at seven sharp. "Didn't you take care of the rent?" My dad grumbled from his place parked on the couch, sipping on his first beer since he'd walked in the door.

"Don't worry about it, Dad. I'll get it." I called from the kitchen, as I quickly opened the oven door to make sure the chicken wouldn't burn while I was away. It looked like it could use a few more minutes, so I left it on as I made my way to the door, furrowing my brow when I saw Jack waiting patiently through the peephole.

"Well, who is it?" He barked, unhappily.

"Just a friend." I stated, innocently, as I unlocked and opened the door. "I'll just be a minute."

"Alright." He consented. "Just don't burn supper."

"I won't." I promised, as I stepped outside, not minding the fact that I didn't have any shoes, since my socks helped cushion my feet from the cold of the cement hallway. I smiled at him as I closed the door behind me, giving us at least a little privacy. "Hey."

"Hey, there." He grinned, charmingly at me. "I'm glad this one was your apartment. Your neighbors weren't very happy when I bothered them."

I wrinkled my nose a little at the thought of the meth-addicts that lived one door over from us. "Yeah, they aren't very nice. Sorry about that. So, what are you doing here? I can't really hang out right now. I'm about to have dinner with my Dad."

"Well, I couldn't call or text you and it was driving me crazy, so I decided to bring you... This." I smiled a little when he pulled what was unmistakably a charger for the phone he'd given me.

"Oh." I laughed a little, taking the coiled item from him and tucking it carefully into my pocket. "Thanks."

"So, you're busy tonight. I get that. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow? Before you have to go back to school?"

I nibbled on my bottom lip a little, guiltily. "I wish I could..."

He groaned a little. "Come on!"

"I can't help it." I sighed, helplessly. "I don't have a social life. I do things on the weekend. I'll probably be up all night at the laundromat. We're really backed up on laundry." I crossed my arms over my chest when the cold air began to get to me, looking at him plaintively. "Are you really mad?"

He shook his head after a minute, looking wistful. "No. No, I'm not mad."

"I really am sorry." I insisted.

"No, no, don't be. Would you mind if I tagged along tomorrow? To the laundromat? I mean, it's not my forte, but I can fold clothes."

"I mean, if you really want to." I said, shrugging. "It's not going to be very fun."

"Emilia! Don't forget about that chicken!" My father yelled, making me wince a little.

"I haven't!" I called back, before turning back to Jack. "Sorry. I should go. I'll text you when I can, okay?"

"Okay." He said softly, staying in place, watching after me even as I stepped back into the apartment and closed the door.

"Who was that?" My father asked, as I clicked the deadbolt into place.

"Just a friend." I repeated as I turned into the kitchen, already knowing he wouldn't approve. "I should go check on dinner."