Back at the apartment, I unlock the front door and push it open with my foot, picking up the grocery bags from the floor as I step inside. The living room is a mess; empty water bottles and food wrappers litter the coffee table. My father and Hardin sit on opposite ends of the couch. “How was your day, Tessie?” my father asks, craning his neck to look over at me. “Good. It was my last day there,” I tell him even though he already knows. I begin to clear their trash from the table and floor.
Girl WHAT
