Free The Coincidence 04 The Probability of Violet and Luke by Jessica Sorensen Page B

at the moment that might help me dig my way out of this mess. “I have to make a phone call,” I tell Violet, my voice sounding strained. But I shake it off and grab my phone from my back pocket. “Can you give me a minute?” I ask and then head back to the kitchen to make a call I don’t want to make. But as I stand there, trying to dial my father’s number, it proves harder than I thought. Still, it’s either ask him or get my ass beat to death, so shoving all my pride aside I just do it.

    He answers after a couple of rings. “Luke, I’m so glad you called,” he says before I can even utter a hello, sounding so relieved I’m talking to him again. “It’s been too long, but I was waiting for you to call like you said the last time we talked… I didn’t want to be too pushy anymore.”

    “I didn’t call to talk,” I tell him, closing my eyes and pressing my fingers to the brim of my nose, feeling a headache coming on strong. “I… need a favor.”

    “Oh.” The disappointment in his voice makes me feel bad, but at the same time causes rage to flare inside me for feeling guilty. “What did you need?”

    I open my eyes and plop down on one of the barstools at the counter. “I need Uncle Cole’s number. I used to have his number but it got erased from my phone a while ago.”

    “Oh. Okay. I can give you it.” He pauses. “But can I ask what you need it for?”

    “No.”

    “Luke, I… do you need some help with something.”

    “No.” I know I’m being a douche bag, but I can’t seem to stop myself. What he took from me when he left me as a child, what he left me with, and what it did to my life—what it all stole from me, still aches like an unhealed wound. I have so much anger inside me, eating me away, bit by bit, because I can’t seem to let it go and just let the damn wound heal. “I just need his number.”

    “If you need help… let me help you. I want to make up for stuff, Luke.”

    “Then give me Cole’s phone number. That’s what will help me.”

    He gets quiet again and I think he’s going to make this complicated, but then he surprises me and gives me the number which I hurry and punch in my phone. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” he asks when he’s finished.

    “Nope. Not from you.” That remark gnaws at my chest and I open my mouth to mutter an apology, but he speaks first.

    “Okay then.” Now he sounds like the wounded Bambi. “Well if you need anything, you can always call me. I’m always here.”

    “Thanks,” I mutter, then press end . Deep down, I know that my life might be easier if I just let go of the stuff between my father and I, but it’s difficult, especially when I barely understand it. I mean, I get why he left my mom, because he needed to find himself. Self-discovery. And he’s happy now with Trevor, his husband, at least it seems that way. I get the need to be happy, but why did he have to leave Amy and I behind? Couldn’t he have done all that with us?

    “You okay?” Violet’s tone carries caution.

    I nod, turning toward her, forcing myself to shake off what I’m feeling. “Yeah, I’m good… I’m going to try and call my uncle and see if I can go to Vegas and crash with him for a week.”

    She lingers in the doorway. “You have an uncle that lives in Vegas?”

    I nod. “But I barely know him. I’m just hoping he might do me a favor,” I say then dial his number.

    After I call him up and have a five-minute conversation with him that mainly centers on gambling, he tells me, “Sure, come the fuck down here. We can totally hit up a few underground games and see what we can come up with.” He says it like he understands, which he probably does, since he’s a lot like me, only about fifteen years older. So I get up to go finish packing, while Violet stands in the doorway not uttering a word, but the worry in her eyes says a lot.

    “What about school?” she finally asks as she shifts her weight.

    My