The alarm clock goes off as I stretch my limbs, my mind racing.
My morning felt the same as it ever was until my phone started buzzing.
I braced for impact and picked up, playing it cool. “Morning, Yo-Yo.”
“Florence, really?” Yolanda’s exasperated voice came through. “Why didn’t you call me last night?”
I yawned, rubbing my face. “I was sleepy.”
“Lies,” she shot back. “You are a night owl. Don't act like I do not know you.”
"Well, I change things up every once in a while, you know that."
"Sure. Are you coming over?"
(Banter between Foil and Yolanda)
I donned my giant metal funnel hat, a signature look, and stepped outside.
The sun started to claw its way down when I got in my car to drive to Yolanda’s parents’ place. My hands were tighter on the wheel than I wanted to admit. I kept wondering if agreeing to come over had been a mistake. I was making a choice to see Yolanda. Maybe for closure. Maybe just to prove I was moving on. Or maybe to get things back on track. I kept telling myself I wasn’t afraid. That’s the thing about lying to yourself—you repeat it enough times and it just sits there with you, stinking up your insides.
*What am I even doing?* I kept replaying the last time Yolanda and I saw each other—her looking past me, me pretending not to notice. She said she’d been tired. She said she needed rest.
By the time I pulled into her parents’ driveway, my chest felt tight like I’d swallowed a fist.
Her mother opened the door before I could knock. “Foil! Look at you. You look good.”
I forced a smile, lowering my gaze. “And you two look younger every time I see you. What’s your secret?”
Her father laughed—one of those deep, practiced laughs that felt like it came from memory instead of the moment. “If we told you, we’d have to charge you for the lesson.”
The house smelled like spices and old wood. Familiar. Too familiar. It pulled at something in me I didn’t want to name.
Yolanda’s sister, Izzy, was at the kitchen table, hunched over her plate like the food was staring back at her. I said hi. She nodded at me like some ghoul.
It was the way she moved—delayed, almost uncertain—that made the hairs on my arms rise. When her mother turned her back, Leticia slid the untouched food off her plate with the back of her fork. I followed her gaze downward. A small dog was waiting under the table, silent and obedient. It inhaled the food without making a sound.
No one noticed except me.
Yolanda came down the hall just then, hair a little messy, face a little too pale. She hugged me quickly—her arms light, almost skittish. “You made it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Would’ve been here sooner, but traffic was a mess.”
A lie, but a harmless one.
She gestured toward the counter. “Sit. Eat. You must be starving.”
Her tone was… insistent. Not caring-insistent. Urgent. Like she needed me to take a bite for reasons I didn’t understand.
I picked up the fork, then hesitated. “Actually, I really need to get going soon. I still have work stuff to finish. I forgot a bunch of things at the house.”
“You can eat first,” she said. A little too quickly.
“Yolanda,” I said, soft but firm. “I really can’t. If I don’t do it tonight, my manager’s going to hang me by the schedule board.”
She looked… disappointed. More than disappointed. But she covered it like she always did—face smoothing out, smile sliding back into place.
“Oh. Okay.”
Leticia suddenly stood up, chair scraping. “Can you give me a ride to my shift? I’m supposed to be at the pizza place at eight.” Her voice sounded thin, like something inside her was worn down.
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”
Her parents barely reacted. Yolanda didn’t either. It was like they’d forgotten she’d spoken at all.
As we stepped outside, Yolanda touched my arm. "Come back after?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded automatically, even though I wasn’t sure if I meant it.
The air outside felt colder than it should’ve. Or maybe I was just finally noticing the cold inside me.
Leticia climbed into the passenger seat slowly, like she had to think through each movement before her body agreed.
I started the engine. “You okay?”
She stared straight ahead. “…You shouldn’t eat here.”
My stomach dropped.
Before I could ask what she meant, she added quietly, “Just drive.”
So I did.
And the whole time, the lie I told myself earlier kept cracking, piece by piece.
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