“Yeah, right. You’ll kill the guy, Dad. I don’t want more attention on any of this. Just leave me alone.”
Guy. All I heard was guy, and my daughter telling me I’ll want to kill him for whatever he did to upset her. I want to punch a hole through the door. Even though I know the door is locked, I try the handle again, and when it doesn’t budge, I walk down the hallway, hands on my head.
I’m not cut out for this. Renee and I were supposed to be raising our daughter together, but now there’s just me, trying to navigate the needs and moods of a teenager. It’s so much fucking harder than it was when she was a little girl. An ice cream cone and a piggyback ride solved every problem back then.
I jog down the stairs, then go into my bedroom, where I grab a pillow and set it on the bed, then punch it about thirty times. Once I’m out of breath and feeling a little less homicidal toward the guy who upset my daughter, I go back upstairs.
“Giselle, I’m your father and I’m telling you to open this door.”
“Will you just leave me alone? God. Like it matters whether I eat dinner tonight.”
“It’s not about dinner, it’s about you being upset.”
I hear her walking, and then her voice is louder, so I know she’s on the other side of the door. “It’s nothing you can help with, okay? It’s just going to make you mad and I can’t handle that right now.”
I squeeze the sides of the doorframe until my knuckles turn white. Talk it out.
“What if I promise not to get mad?”
She laughs. “That’s not possible.”
“Are you pregnant?”
Another laugh. “Are you serious? No, I’m not pregnant.”
I relax slightly, and take a deep breath in and out. “Did someone physically hurt you? Is that why you don’t want me to see you?”
“No, Dad. It’s nothing like that. I’m just…humiliated. That’s what it is, okay? I just need to be alone.”
“Please let me in. I promise I won’t get mad. Just give me five minutes.”
“Whatever.” She huffs a sigh and unlocks the door.
The dark wood floor of her bedroom is strewn with clothes, and more are piled in a gray chair in the corner. A strand of LED lights hanging behind her dresser casts a purple glow. And on her queen-sized bed, there’s a mountain of used tissues.
She flops down next to the pile, then curls up and rests her head on her arm.
“Will you order pizza?” she asks.
“Sure, I can do that. You want the cheesy bread, too?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s got you so upset, ma crevette?”
I dump the clothes off the gray chair and move it next to her bed so I can sit down while we talk.
Giselle sits up and crosses her legs. “Did you go see the woman you rescued from the car?”
I furrow my brow. “I did yesterday. Why?”
She shrugs. “I saw a picture of you on Twitter and it said you were going to see her. Do you like her?”
“I do, but Giselle, no one will ever be more important to me than you. Don’t ever worry about that, okay?”
“As long as you’re not moving in with her and her husband to become a throuple.”
I shake my head, cursing my ex-wife. “Never ever. If I date a woman, and that’s a big if, it will just be me and her, and it’ll never come between us. Until you go off to college, you and me are going to live right here, just the two of us.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to date anyone. I just don’t want it to be serious immediately.”
“I get that. You have my word. Is that why you’re upset?”
She pulls her knees up to her chest, sighs and looks away. “I sent a picture to a guy from school. He said no one else would see it, but he lied. He sent it out to everyone.”
My stomach clenches. “What kind of a picture?”
She shrugs. “I’m sure you can imagine, Dad.”
My heart hits the floor. Fuck. It sickens me to think of my daughter sending a nude photo to anyone, and then for it to be shared with others? I want to crush that boy’s bones to dust with my bare hands.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to keep my promise about not getting mad. Elbows on my knees, I ask, “Was it a nude photo?”
“God, this is so embarrassing.”
“Just tell me and we can deal