100% That Witch - Celia Kyle Page 0,40

breath come out in a long, painful rush. He always knew the right place to hit. No matter how deftly she stepped, he was always one move ahead.

“It didn’t work out.” She tried to force a strong, confident note in her voice, but it came out fake and whispery instead.

“Oh, really?” He didn’t even try to sound sympathetic. He was clearly triumphant that he had been right. Again. “I did tell you.”

“Yes, you did tell me,” she whispered, fighting the tears that were pounding against her carefully constructed wall of control.

Everyone fucking told me!

“We just weren’t right for each other,” she said, trying to sound breezy. “You know how it is.” Her voice caught, just a little, on the last word. She heard her father sigh.

“I am sorry, Tiffany.”

Her heart warmed at the genuine emotion in his voice. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I know you were very excited about the relationship. I understand how hard this must be.”

“I really appreciate hearing that, Dad,” she replied, surprised and pleased to have his sympathy.

“Of course, it’s no surprise. Surely you must realize that.” The clipped, dismissive tone was back. Tiffany felt like she had been walking up a set of stairs only to find the landing drop out from under her foot.

“What?”

“He’s from a good family,” her father went on. “Even if they are necros.”

“Okay...” Tiffany wasn’t sure where this was going.

“They usually stick together, you know. Of course, he would want someone who would complement his magic. It’s no wonder he moved on to greener—or should it be blacker—pastures. Don’t take it personally.”

This is not helping.

“Yes, of course,” she answered, trying to disconnect her feelings from her words. She didn’t want to cry again.

“It probably didn’t help, trying to look like them, you know.”

“What?”

“The clothes. You walk around all the time like you’re going to a funeral. It’s off-putting.”

“I’d describe my style as heading-to-a-party-with-the-Addams-family,” she said, trying to keep her voice under control. Her Dad laughed lightly.

“Sure. Of course. Young people often fall into certain trends trying to express themselves. This is indicative of what they want to be just as much as what they’re running from.” His voice had taken on a lofty tone, and she could sense him getting up on his righteous pedestal. She wasn’t sure she could take it.

“I’m not sure I understand, Dad.”

“Of course not,” he said soothingly. “You’re still learning. The thing is, dressing like them when you aren’t one of them must be really unsettling. It’s like you’re trying to be someone you’re not.”

Tiffany felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. He was using a kindly—if a bit superior—tone. He actually thought he was being nice!

“You can’t hide who you really are, kiddo,” he said softly. “Not forever. I’m just trying to help you. Remember that.”

Tiffany shook her head and grabbed a tissue, dabbing at her cheeks. The tears were hot, but at least they were silent.

“Thanks, Dad.” Her voice was a bit rough, but she couldn’t do about it. She looked out the window, seeing the sunlight beginning to slant across the garden. It was getting late, and this conversation wasn’t lifting her spirits at all. If she didn’t get off the phone soon, she was going to totally lose her shit.

“Hey, Dad,” she said, trying to be firm. “Like you said, I’ve got a lot I should be doing, so—”

“Wait just a second. I’ve got something else to talk to you about.”

What now? You’re locking me in a tower guarded by dragons? Cutting me off completely because I got a job? I’m really adopted? What?

Tiffany couldn’t see how this situation could get any worse.

“I’m coming to Othercross next week. Thought we could get together,” he said brightly.

Tiffany’s stomach plummeted right out of her guts and onto the floor under the bed. For a few seconds, she couldn’t process his words.

“Wait, Dad, when are you coming?”

“Next week. If I didn’t at least take you out to dinner, your mother would skin me alive!” His carefree laugh made it clear he was merely humoring her mom.

Gee, thanks. Can I take the price of the meal out of my tuition, maybe?

“That sounds good, Dad.”

“Excellent,” he said, his voice cheery and light. “Looking forward to it. By then, I’m sure you’ll have even more positive updates on your work and your grades overall.”

She rolled her eyes, even though she should have expected him to say something like that.

“Yes, Dad. For sure.” She rubbed her eyes gently, hoping this torturous phone call would be over