It’s enough. If he knew, odds are my parents knew, and if he’d been at the school, they knew, too.
Reynolds McAllister, the boy who broke me, is finally back.
And no one had the guts to tell me about it.
I storm as fast as my defective leg will take me into the house, carelessly tossing my backpack on the kitchen table. Conveniently, both of my parents are standing near the island. Dad is still in his blue scrubs from the hospital. My mother looks up and obliviously asks, “Hey honey, how was the first day of—"
“When were you going to tell me?” I hate the way it comes out. Not angry, despite the way I feel. It comes out small and wounded.
My mother blinks and glances at my father, her expression confused. “Tell you—"
“She saw Reyn,” Emory says from the garage door.
“Ah,” my mother starts, but touches her neck, like she’s trying to force more words to come. They don’t.
“We were going to tell you tonight at dinner,” Dad says carefully.
“So you all knew.” I hug my middle, chest constricting with a tidal wave of something that’s too big to be contained. I look at my brother. “Exactly how long have you been keeping this from me?”
“For a few weeks.” Dad grimaces and the glint of guilt in his eye is almost enough to forgive this. Almost. “Warren came over and explained the circumstances surrounding the need for Reynolds’ return. You know we’ve kept a friendly relationship with the McAllister’s for years now. And it’s just...” Dad sighs. “Well, it’s seemed like you’ve been doing so much better.”
I try desperately to swallow around the lump of betrayal lodged in my throat. “None of that explains why no one told me about it.”
Mom circles around the island. “We wanted you to have a great first day of school, and we wanted to make sure Reyn was actually going to come home and enroll before saddling you with it all. There were a few things still up in the air about his re-enrollment.”
“You were wrong.” The tears finally fall, leaving hot tracks down my face. “You should have given me the chance to prepare myself for—”
My mom walks up and rests her hand on my shoulder. I jerk away. “Tell me what you’re feeling? Are you only upset with us or are you worried about being back at school with Reyn? Do you need to talk to Dr. Cordell?”
My therapist. Jesus. “God, no. I’m just…” I’m holding in a sob. I press a hand into my chest, the thumping vibration of my heart so hard and fast that it feels like I’ve run a mile.
Dad coaxes, “What? Surprised? Annoyed? Freaked?”
“I’m sick!” I wail, grabbing the fabric covering my chest into a tight fist. “I’m sick of you not telling me stuff, I’m sick of being trapped here all the time, and I’m sick of you asking me how I feel and then never fucking listening!”
“Vandy Emilia Hall!” my mom shouts, eyes wide with shock. I’ve never once cussed in front of them before. Even Emory is gaping at me. “That language is unacceptable!”
I fling my arms out, helpless. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you with the feelings that you specifically fucking asked for.”
My mom’s eyes flash in anger. “One more time, Vandy, so help me...”
“What?” My laugh comes out slightly maniacal. “Are you going to ground me? That’ll be rich. Maybe I won’t be able to leave the house, or have friends, or talk to boys, or go to parties, or wear make-up. Oh, my mistake. Can’t ground me from something you’ve never allowed me to have.”
“Hey!” My dad steps forward, brows pulled together in anger. “That’s enough. Maybe we made the wrong move not telling you about Reynolds, but you talk to us like the adult you want to be treated as. Apologize to your mother.”
My ribs feel like they’re strangling my lungs, and I can’t even properly appreciate the irony in my parents wanting me to act like an adult when they treat me like a child.
I say, “I’m sorry,” because I have to get away. “If you’d told me, then I could have—I could have just—”
It doesn’t matter.
Emory’s stricken eyes watch as I pass him, hobbling my way up the stairs.
What I want to say is that, if I’d known, I could have found out who to be around Reynolds McAllister. The last time I saw him I was whole, body and soul. I’m not that person now. I’m just