Free Relativity by Lauren Dodd

or if I was just a challenge, since I didn’t chase him like his usual conquests. I guess it doesn’t really matter.
    “It’ll be good to make some money,” I reply, wiping grease off my chin with the back of my hand. It suddenly occurs to me that both Dad and I have been avoiding sitting down at the kitchen table since Mom died. All of our meals have been eaten either standing up or in front of the television. I guess neither of us can bear the thought of her empty chair.
    “You don’t need to worry about money, sweetheart. We’re doing fine,” Dad reassures me, flipping through the channels even though I know once he settles on something his mind won’t allow him to concentrate on it.
    “I’m not going to college in the fall,” I blurt out, figuring it will be easier to just get it out there, kind of like ripping a bandage off fast.
    Dad drops the slice he was holding back onto his plate, he swings around to face me, his eyes bugged out unattractively. “Not this again. I just read an article that says you aren’t supposed to make any big changes after a loved one’s death for at least a year.”
    “Right. Going away would be a change. I can still go to community college. I don’t want to leave you,” I admit.
    “I don’t want you to leave either, Rip, but let’s just give ourselves the summer before we make any decisions. Deal?” The smile he is trying to force makes my stomach turn. He doesn’t want me leaving any more than I want to leave but even through his grieving he is trying to think of what is best for me.
    “Deal,” I agree, knowing that my mind is already made up.
    We spend the next hour dazing out in front of the television, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, we walk upstairs together, parting ways at our bedrooms.
    “I guess we won’t really see each other tomorrow,” Dad says. I can tell he is trying to be strong. We’ve been clinging to each other like life preservers and it isn’t going to be easy to separate.
    “I’ll miss you, Dad.”
    He pulls me in for a hug and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Same here. Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl.” He unfolds me and shuffles tentatively to his empty bedroom where Mom’s scent still hangs in the air.
    I curl up in bed with my cell phone and dial a number I know it isn’t healthy to be calling every night before I fall asleep, but I don’t stop until I punch in the last digit. Mom’s soothing voice comes on the line telling me she isn’t available but urging me to leave a message. I leave her yet another message, a part of me wanting to believe that somehow she gets them, then tumble into another dreamless sleep.

 
     
     
Chapter Five
     
     
    My phone rings, waking me up. I must have forgotten to turn it off after calling Mom’s voice mail last night. The unknown number that I now recognize as Tate’s comes up. I always thought I would do cartwheels if Tate ever called me, but all I feel is dread.
    “Hello,” I answer groggily, part of me hoping that he’ll just hang up and never call again.
    “Ripley? Hey, it’s Tate. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he rambles, clearly excited that I actually answered this time.
    “Hi, Tate. Sorry about the other day. I don’t usually make it a habit to pass out or flee screaming from buildings,” I say, knowing he must think I’m a total loser. I bet his mom put him up to these calls just to check up on me. Suddenly, all the mothers in town feel the need to take care of me, which I should feel grateful for, but I just want my real mother back.
    “I tend to have that effect on women,” he says, laughing.
    It immediately lightens the mood and reminds me why I’ve been crushing on him.
    “I really appreciate you calling to check up on me, but I’m fine,” I say, trying to cut the conversation short so that he doesn’t feel obligated to keep calling. He should be off enjoying what is left of our senior year, not worrying about me.
    “Are you coming to