me, but now it just makes me feel grateful. I’ll be able to sneak over to Vandy’s tonight.
I roll my eyes. “Remember? You talked to Mrs. Hall?” It’s ridiculous all the shit we had to go through to get a single parent-approved evening hanging out together. There were, in fact, three phone calls, a stern talking-to from my dad, and an email from Vandy’s mom containing her contact info ‘just in case’. Just in case what? Who fucking knows.
Comprehension dawns over his features. “Oh, that’s today?” He looks around at all the shit I’ve dragged onto the counter. “Should I stay?”
I shoot him a narrow-eyed glance over my shoulder. “I think I can manage to not almost kill her for a couple hours.”
My dad does not look impressed. “You know how the Halls are about that girl. I’ll just push my meeting a little later.” He takes off his jacket and I determinedly do not think of the way he skittered out the word ‘meeting.’ As if whatever booty call he’s putting on hold is some sort of business symposium.
It doesn’t matter, though. Vandy and I had already agreed that a successful parent-approved hang-out could only open up the possibility for future… meetings.
I watch from my periphery as he takes out his phone, thumbs tapping over the screen. Apparently, dad is in the stage in his life where he can postpone booty calls by text alone. Classy fella, my old man.
Out of nowhere, he lets out this long sigh. “I hope you’re using rubbers.”
I think a drop of saliva becomes permanently lodged in my windpipe. “What?”
He looks up at me, gesturing to my neck. “Rubbers. Wrap it up, Reyn, or so help me god…”
The hickey, I realize. I resist the urge to press my fingers into the mark Vandy made beneath my ear. I mutter, “I think I’m a little old for the rubber talk, so why don’t you just cross that off your list and pretend we did.”
“God damn it.” He slams his hand down on the counter, almost startling me. “I mean it, Reyn! The last thing you need is to knock up some idiot girl—and a Preston girl, at that. Your life is going to be hard enough. You want to be saddled with some princess’s snot-nosed brat for the next eighteen years?”
It takes me a long moment to form words, but when I do, gripping the counter at my back, all I can manage is an awed, “Wow.”
“What?” he snaps, watching me.
“Oh, don’t stop now.” I sweep my hand out magnanimously. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel? It’s not like I don’t already know, what with the way you can’t even stand to stay in the same house with me for more than three hours. Though, I’ve got to say, adding ‘some princess’s snot-nosed brat’ to those college applications will really give it a certain flair. So, thanks for that, I guess.”
I barely catch the look on his face when I sweep past him, but it’s slack and surprised, and I want to tell him, Yes. I know. Of course, I already knew all of this. It’s just different, hearing it all laid out like that.
It stings.
I drop on the couch in the den and try not to let it bother me so much. I’ll be out of his hair soon, and he can have his house back. We’ll probably end up rarely speaking to one another. Holidays. Birthdays. I can see it now, me calling him on Father’s Day and faking through it, pretending he’s still the same guy who built me that treehouse and taught me how to catch a football.
I don’t turn when I hear him walk into the room, keeping my eyes fixed to the TV. Strangely, Vandy’s mom is there. She’s covering a story about fraud down at the board of education. Sometimes watching Mrs. Hall makes me wish I’d turned out to be a better kid—like I could have a mom like that, with warm eyes, who actually gives a shit.
And then I remember the stuff her own kids are getting up to.
My dad picks up the remote control, turning the TV off. The room goes silent, darker, thick with awkward tension. “Reyn,” he starts, and he’s standing there shifting around, hands planted on his hips, looking anywhere but at me. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
I snort bitterly, wishing he’d just go away. Vandy will be here in thirty minutes.