Fourteen (15 page)

“You had a good . . .
life
before me.”

“Anna, he was an ass,” Ashley said bluntly. “Sorry, Evan, but it’s true.” She waved a hand in his direction, and he grunted at her. “And while he’s still an ass, at least I can tolerate him a little better.”

“Thanks, Ashley,” he said dryly.

“Deny it; I dare you.” He glared at her, and she smiled smugly when he remained silent. “That’s what I thought.”

“How do you put up with her?” he asked, looking at Kyle.

Kyle merely wiggled his eyebrows, and I laughed.

“Stop apologizing,” he said, seeming to remember where we’d left off before Ashley had interrupted. “I’d do . . . well, I wouldn’t . . . hell.” He moved, and pressed his lips into a thin line. “This is what I want, right here.” He squeezed me. “So stop.”

The bell rang and Evan groaned.

“See you at lunch!” Kyle exclaimed.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Ashley said, sliding her hand into Kyle’s. “We’re sitting with you from now on.”

She shook her hair over her shoulder, waved, and towed Kyle down the hallway.

“Why are they going to be sitting with us from now on?” I asked, pointing over my shoulder at their retreating backs.

“I think this is their way of saying that they’re on our side.”

I sighed heavily. “I don’t understand.”

“You know how Christina and Vince were the only two you could talk to before I showed up?”

“Yeah.”

“Kyle and Ashley are my closest friends, and they’re supporting me.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it. “They’re supporting us.”

“But they . . .” I trailed off and blew out a breath. “It’s going to be one of
those
days isn’t it?”

“Clarify, please.”

“The ones that make no sense whatsoever.”

“Yes,” he said. He grabbed my books from me and grinned when I stared at him in confusion.

“Come on, milady,” he said in a horrible British accent. “Human physiology awaits.”

I slid my hand into the crook of his arm when he offered it to me.

“You’ve lost your damn mind.”

“Nah. You helped me find it.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Thank you.”

“Cheesy.” I nudged him.

“Complaining?”

I grinned up at him. “No.”

“Okay then.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I’m up and about tomorrow,” he said against my lips, his hands pressed against the window of my car as he leaned in. “Are you allowed to use the phone?”

“He’ll be gone all day anyway.” I tilted my head. “So, you know, if you just happen to drop by . . .”

“I’m not crossing Mister Lawyer Man,” he joked, cupping my cheek. “Sorry.”

I sighed dramatically, and he chuckled, leaning down and kissing me again.

“Have fun, okay?”

“It’s all Kyle’s fault, you know,” he grumbled, resting his forehead against mine. “Maybe Ashley’s too.”

“You had planned to go before . . .”

“Before I started hanging out with you,” he said. “Everything’s different now.”

“Is that bad?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

I did everything I could to keep the smile off my face. He caught it, of course, and kissed me again.

“You should get home.” He nudged his nose against mine. “I don’t want you to get into any more trouble because of me.”

“He’s just grouchy,” I said, hesitantly placing my hands on his chest.

I could feel his heartbeat as I moved my hand over it, marveling over the way it was racing much like mine always did with him around. I looked up when he covered my hand, and smiled slowly as he threaded our fingers together.

“Grouchy or not, I still want to take you on that second date. Preferably before we graduate.”

“You and your expectations.”

“I know. Pain right in the ass, huh?”

“You really are.”

He laughed and kissed me again before stepping back from me. I sighed and let him fully link our hands together.

“Have fun tonight, okay?”

And come back to me.

“I’ll try. Won’t be much fun without you.”

“Kiss ass.”

“But, oh so true.” He pulled me against him, placing one more kiss on my lips. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Talk to you tomorrow,” I said and squeezed his hand before I made myself let go and watched as he walked to his car. We were the only two left in the parking lot, everyone else damn near flying out the minute the last bell rang in anticipation of the two days of freedom we’d all been granted. It had been a normal day for me; the stares and whispers were only a little worse than usual, but not altogether something I wasn’t used to. Evan had seemed tense and uptight most of the day, but he still held my hand whenever we met up in the hallway, so things couldn’t have been
that
bad, right?

I sighed and finally climbed into my car, strapping the seat belt across my lap and turning the key. He waved at me when he drove past, and I waved back and then shoved the car into gear and pulled out of the parking space.

I made it home within ten minutes, very unhappy when I saw my father’s truck sitting in our driveway.

Normally it wouldn’t have bothered me that he was home early. Today, all I could think was that he wanted to check up on me, which really only served to annoy me. I slammed the door to my car, threw my book bag over my shoulder, stomped up the steps, and pushed through the front door.

“Anna, we need to talk,” he said as soon as the front door shut behind me.

I resisted the urge to yell at him and dropped my bag to the floor before trudging my way into the living room. Surprisingly, the television was off, and he was sitting in the armchair as opposed to the couch where he usually sat. I hung my head, accepted the fact that I was about to get one hell of a lecture, and plopped myself down on the middle of the couch. After taking off my shoes and propping my feet up on the coffee table, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for it to begin.

“You were right about some of the things you said last night, Anna, but that doesn’t mean that you had a right to say them.”

I narrowed my eyes at the silent television and hunched my shoulders.

“Your mom’s death was really hard on me . . .”

“It hasn’t been hard on me? It’s not like this didn’t affect me, too.”

“Would you let me finish?” I grunted. “I don’t know how to raise a teenage girl, Anna, and you’re a complete mystery to me. I don’t know what to do or what to say, so I just thought that it was better not to say anything at all. That was wrong.”

I snorted.

“But this is my house, and you have to respect my rules.”

“When have I ever
not
respected your rules, Dad? It’s not like we were having sex in the middle of the living room when you walked in or anything!”

“Close enough.”

“Right,” I looked over at the front door.

“I still don’t want you to be alone with him.”

I ground my teeth together and said, “Fine.”

“And if you’re really going to date him, I want you on birth control.”

He fidgeted, looking around the room like it was the first time he’d ever set foot in his own home, and I felt just as uncomfortable about where this conversation was going as he seemed to.

“I’m already on it, Dad.”

“What?”

“One of the things Mom did before she got sick was take me to get them. And I know all about the birds and the bees, so please, spare me that lecture.” I picked at my nails. “Was there anything else?”

“Have you been . . .”—he cleared his throat again—“have you
been
with him?”

“Oh, God.” I moaned and slapped my forehead.

“Have you?”

“No, I haven’t
been
with anyone.”

He was quiet for a few moments, and I just kept wondering if there was any way that this could possibly get more embarrassing and aggravating.

“Are you on drugs, Anna?”

Yes, apparently it could get more embarrassing and aggravating. I had no idea where that question came from because I didn’t think that I’d ever given him a reason to think that I was on drugs to begin with. If this question was because he’d seen me kiss Evan, I didn’t even want to think about the other questions that he might have had in store for me.

I blinked at him, my mouth moving without sound before I finally managed to say, “Excuse me?”

“I just wanted to make sure.”

“You think that little of me?”

“Of course not! I just—”

“No, Dad, I’m not on drugs. I don’t smoke, I’ve never gone over the speed limit, I’ve never been suspended from school, and I’ve been accepted into my first choice college.”

“You were?”

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to cry, scream, or throw things to get out my frustration. I’d purposely left the acceptance letter from NYU that I received a few months ago on the kitchen table so that maybe he’d see it and
say something
or at least look at it and know that his daughter was moving away from this place when she graduated. I’d even foolishly hoped that he’d be proud of me.

“Yes, I was,” I said, folding my hands in my lap.

“Where’s that?”

“NYU.”

“You are
not
going to the city.”

“I’m not going to the community college.”

“Well you’re not going to New York, either.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too far away.”

“It’s three hours.”

“It’s too far away,” he said again.

“That’s the point!” I exclaimed.

“You want to get away from everyone here—including me—that badly?”

“Yes,” I said.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever, and I’d memorized every little groove of my fingernails before he cleared his throat.

“Well, I can’t stop you.”

“Do you even
want
to?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m invisible to you, Dad; we both know it.” I threw my hands in the air before letting them plop back on my thighs. “When I leave for college, what’s going to change for you?”

“Anna, you’re not invisible to me . . .”

“Sure I’m not, Dad.” I stood and smoothed my hands over my shirt. “Does my being grounded bar running as well?”

“An hour. If you’re not back within that time, I’m coming to look for you,” he said, his voice detached as he stared down at the coffee table.

“Because I definitely deserve to be treated like a prisoner, don’t I?”

I ran up the stairs without waiting for an answer, fighting off angry tears as I changed and threw my hair up into a ponytail. I slid my sneakers on and ran back down the stairs, grabbing my iPod from the table and walking onto the porch. As I stuck the ear buds into my ears, I let out a shaky breath and bolted down the porch steps.

It didn’t matter that I’d run five miles the day before and my legs had been protesting all day; I needed to get out and not be around anyone. I needed time to myself, and this was the only way I was going to get it with my dad being home.

I did my best not to think about anything but jogging my usual route and concentrating on the music flowing through the buds to my ears—nothing but the feel of the pavement underneath my feet. The wind hitting my face, and the relaxation I could only feel out here helped me to relax.

I came to the street before Steve Forrester’s house—like usual—and hesitated as I reached the corner. No one would be there yet; it was doubtful that even Steve would be there yet. After all, he had to drive into Albany to beg his brother to buy some beer from the liquor store he worked at so that everyone had something to drink. I pulled my iPod out from my pocket and looked at the time. Estimating I had about five extra minutes of freedom, I started down the street.