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I’m immediately on my feet, anger and frustration over this entire mess finally boiling over. “No! He didn’t, Dad. He’s m-my friend, and he was nice enough to come along for support, and you’ve been nothing but rude to him since he got here. And…and it’s really insulting to even suggest I c-can’t make my own decisions.”

“Okay, let’s all just calm down a bit,” Daddy interrupts. “No one is accusing Dallas of anything. Right, Jay?” Of course Dad doesn’t say boo. “Jay?” Daddy glances sideways and glares.

With a flat stare and an even flatter voice, Dad says, “I retract all unsubstantiated allegations.”

“Jay…”

“I apologize, Dallas.”

“Apology accepted, sir.”

Dad sighs deeply and runs both hands over his short, thick salt and pepper hair. “You’re not going to be satisfied until you do this…”

“No. I-I w-won’t.”

“Honey,” Daddy says. “You saw the email––the only reason why we’ve discouraged you for so long is because we know her very well. We’re just…” he sighs, “no other way to say it––trying to spare you the pain.”

Tears of frustration well up in my eyes. “But you can’t. Not from this. Because it already hurts. I feel like I’m m-missing the last small piece of the puzzle. That I’ll never be whole if I don’t at least see her and have her see me…I can’t explain it any other way. I’m prepared for her to turn me away. It’s not about her…I’m doing this for me.”

A large, warm hand covers my lower back, his thumb brushing soothingly across my spine under the tank top I wore to bed. And despite the tornado of emotions twisting out of control inside of me, threatening to rip me apart, all my senses take notice of him, converge on that one spot grounding me.

Dad’s head tips back. Then my parents share a look. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

“You have your credit cards on you?” Daddy brushes my hair away from my eyes.

“Yes.”

“Stay someplace nice and call me as soon as it happens,” he orders, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” I say, smacking a kiss on his clean-shaven cheek. They’re both seeing us off early. I don’t know who’s more eager to get on the road: me or Dallas. Each for different reasons.

“And lower your exceptions into the grave,” Dad grumbles, wrapping me in his arms more gently. “Love you. Try not to break any laws when you’re up there, please.”

It nudges a smile out of me. Before last night I’d never once gotten in trouble for anything. I’ve never even been grounded before.

“And watch your step. That city has officially gone to shit and I mean literally. People are shitting on the sidewalks––”

“Jay––”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, babe.” Daddy turns to face Dallas who’s been standing to the side watching us, expression so serious I wonder if something is bothering him. I can’t tell what he’s thinking and it makes me a little nervous.

“Dallas, it was a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully, Jay hasn’t run you off just yet.”

Dallas smiles softly. “No, sir. It takes a lot more to scare me off.”

“How much more?” is Dad’s quick comeback.

“He’s kidding, Dallas,” Daddy says. “Don’t listen to him.” Dallas and I get in the car. I lower the window down and wave.

“Love you.”

“Drive safely, sweat pea,” Dad says. “And call us when you get there.”

As I back Bernadette out of our driveway, Dad hooks an arm around Daddy. In the rear view mirror, I see them standing, watching…until we’re out of sight.

“You’re lucky.”

It’s the first sentence he’s uttered in an hour. He’s been staring pensively out the passenger side window since we left my house.

“I’m sorry about my dad.”

“He loves you. I would do the same for my daughter.”

I’ve never heard a guy my age talk about having children and it kind of surprises me. “C-Can I ask you something?”

Turning to face me, he says, “Shoot.”

“What happened on T-Thanksgiving? With your mom. W-What did you fight about?”

He blinks, looks out ahead at the highway. He’s quiet for so long I think he’s not going to answer me.

“My ex died.”

“What?” I say flabbergasted. I can’t have heard that right.

“My ex-girlfriend died in September. In a car accident.”

Nothing could’ve shocked me more. Then I think of that night in October. I recall the pain in his eyes and it all makes sense now.

“I am s-so so s-sorry. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” An ugly streak of jealousy slices through me I’m embarrassed to say.

“We haven’t been together since I was eighteen. We started seeing each other when I was sixteen.”

“Oh, your high school girlfriend,” I muse. Weird that it makes me feel a little bit better.

“Beth was my tutor,” he casually announces like he hasn’t just dropped a bomb the size of the Hiroshima nuke in my lap. “She was in grad school when we met…she was twenty-seven.”

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