The parking lot was emptying out—first period was going to start soon. But I knew I had to give him an answer.
Finally, I said, “Dances aren’t really my thing.” Obviously it was the truth, since I’m not supposed to do anything overly physical lately, but it sounded stupid even to me.
He let go of my arm, looking incredibly dejected. But here’s what I still don’t get: why? He can have anyone he wants. Why me?
“That’s cool, I get it. See you later, Meg.”
“Wait!” I called out as he walked away.
He turned back.
“Do you want to do something else tomorrow night? Something more…low key?”
A huge, gorgeous grin crept over his face. “Yeah, absolutely. School dances are lame anyway. What did you have in mind?”
Honestly, we could sit on the side of the road counting cars for all I care. I just can’t wait to be alone with him. But I do have an idea: the secret beach. “You’ll see,” I said, and I still can’t believe how cool I was able to play it.
Holy crap. I’m going on a date with Ryden Brooks. Mabel’s going to flip. :-)
Chapter 5
“There’s Daddy!” my mom says to Hope as I slam the front door. She holds the baby out to me as I pass by the living room on my way to my room. “How was work?”
“It sucked.” I keep walking.
Mom follows me. “Aren’t you going to say hi to Hope?”
I stop at the door to my room and slump against the doorjamb. My fingers grip Meg’s journal. Hope’s happy and babbling in my mom’s arms, trying to grab her necklace.
“Can’t you keep her in your room tonight? I’ve had a really shitty day. I need sleep.”
“No, Ryden. I can’t.”
“But look at her—she obviously likes you better than me.”
Mom sighs. “No, she doesn’t. You’re her father. She loves you. I just have more experience handling babies—that’s what she’s responding to. You’ll get it. You just need to keep practicing.”
“I don’t want to.” The words are out before I can stop them. I don’t even think I really mean them. Or maybe I do. I don’t know.
I did everything wrong with Meg, and I really don’t want to do everything wrong with Hope too. But there’s a part of me that thinks I might as well stop busting my ass trying. Stop trying to get her to respond to me the way she does with my mom, stop trying to get her to stop screaming and crying and fussing whenever she’s alone with me, stop trying to get her to sleep through the whole night one fucking time.
Until I find that missing piece of me, it’s hopeless.
Mom frowns. A lot of women her age haven’t even had kids yet, and here she is, a single, working grandmother. I know none of this has been easy on her either, but she’s so much better at managing it all than I am.
Mom passes me and walks into my room. She puts Hope down in her crib, turns on her mobile with the different colored dragonflies, and then sits on my unmade bed, patting the spot beside her. “Come here.”
I drag my feet across the floor and collapse face-first onto the bed. The mobile serenades us with a tinny, four-note tune.
“Ryden,” Mom says. Her voice has that serious tone that I heard for the first time about a year ago. “We need to talk.”
“Can we talk tomorrow?” I ask into the sheets.
“No. Now.”
The lake, Alan, Joni…and now this, whatever this is. It is so not my day. I sit up and lean my head back against the wall. “What?”
“We need to figure out what we’re going to do when school starts up again in September. You’re not dropping out,” she says firmly.
“What? Why the hell would you think I want to drop out?”
“Don’t look at me like that. Do you know how incredibly common it is for teen parents to drop out of high school? It’s a hard balance, being there for your child, going to school, keeping up with your homework, and providing financially for your family.”
“Mom, it was my idea to go back to school this fall, remember?”
She continues as if I hadn’t said anything. “So, you’re not dropping out, and you’re going to have to keep your job. But we need my job too, which means I won’t be able to watch Hope while you’re at school and while you’re at work.”