Isabella out of school.”
“Take a deep breath,” my dad said. “Can you do that for me?” He ran his fingers through my hair, just like my mom used to do when I was upset.
I knew students were probably looking out the window at the weird new girl hugging her dad. And I didn’t care one bit. They could call me a prostitute behind my back. And draw targets on my forehead. And refuse to speak to me. But it didn’t matter what they did. Because I was the lucky one. I knew how fortunate I was to have a living parent that cared. And I’d hug my dad on the steps of Empire High whenever I got a freaking chance.
“Just breathe,” my dad said.
Eventually his words and his fingers running through my hair got my heart to stop racing. And my lungs filled again. I looked up at him. “Isabella didn’t actually say to me that she was going to end my bloodline. She didn’t speak to me all day. There was this note written in lipstick but I thought it was blood. It talked about the bloodline thing. And I freaked out. She had Cupcake draw a target on my forehead. And she kept running her fingers across her throat whenever she stared at me like she was going to kill me. The school receptionist gave her the early dismissal note to give to me. And she just used the opportunity to mess with my head. I thought she’d killed you. But she didn’t actually speak to me. Please don’t take her out of school. It’s just going to make everything worse. You taking my side always makes everything worse.”
He shook his head and then looked up at the sky like he was searching for an answer to his problems. But there was no solution up there for his demon daughter. He slowly exhaled and then looked over to his bodyguard. “Text Miller back. Tell him to abort.” Then he looked back down at me. “Let’s go to lunch. We’ll figure out a solution together, okay?”
I nodded.
He kissed my forehead and then ushered me into the car. “You’re sure we shouldn’t stop by Dr. Wilson’s office?”
“I’m sure.” I didn’t want to spend lunch in a doctor’s office. I wanted to spend it with him.
“Well, make sure to write about this in your journal,” he said.
“Dad.”
His eyes always softened when I called him that.
I wanted to tell him that I’d keep writing in the journal. That maybe something else was stressing me out. But it just wasn’t true. “I don’t need to write it down. I’ve only ever had a hard time breathing when Isabella threatens to kill me. I’m sorry,” I added when I saw the look on his face.
“Princess, it’s okay.” He put his hand on top of mine. “I believe you. I’m sorry I pressed it. I was just hoping…” his voice trailed off. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”
I wanted to believe him. But the more promises he made, the less I believed any of them.
***
I expected for us to go to his country club. Or some swanky restaurant that had a huge waitlist. Instead, my dad’s town car stopped at a small corner diner.
The inside was just as adorable as the outside. There were black and white checkered floors and red booths. The heat was turned up for the cool autumn day and the smell of grease hung in the air. It reminded me of a diner back home. My mom and I used to go to it all the time for milkshakes. Especially when I had bad days at school.
The hostess greeted him by name with a friendly smile.
Wait. He comes here frequently? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. I thought there were house rules about carbs or something. Or was it junk food? God, I needed a copy of those rules.
The hostess showed us to a booth and asked if he’d like his usual. He ordered two.
I couldn’t help it. I just stared at him as she walked away.
“This is one of my favorite places,” my dad said.
“But it’s…” my voice trailed off. “It’s not very much like your apartment.”
“I know, it’s refreshing right? I used to come here with your mom all the time.”
I pressed my lips together. First the hidden apartment that had belonged to my mom. Now a diner they used to go to together? There were forgotten pieces of my mom scattered