“I see,” he replies. “Let me give him a call and talk some sense into him.”
“Good luck with that,” I say.
Phil sighs. “Okay, well, thank you for letting me know. I’ll see what I can do.”
I hang up just as I reach the safety of the apartment complex. My heart is still racing, and my mind is spinning with everything that just happened.
I update Alice.
Me:
So I guess I have a date if I want it.
(I don’t) but Jesus.
His dad is going to call him.
But he didn’t answer my 21 or so calls, so good luck to him.
Alice:
This is such a fucking trip, girl.
And not healthy for you.
Me:
I wanted to punch him in the face, but I just smacked his hat.
Alice:
He knows he can do whatever he wants.
Me:
Not any more.
Alice:
What are the consequences?
Me:
He can move out and live with his new friends.
I’m sure their tents are palatial.
Alice:
You’ve said that before, friend.
Many times.
Me:
I know. But he didn’t leave all night before.
I check Find My iPhone, and see that Timmy has now migrated to the store. The store that isn’t open. It’s where a bunch of the drug users hang out at the bus stop at all hours.What the hell is he playing at?