Page 122 of Darkest Obsession

Clover, Kola and Sylvia all snap to attention at my father’s appearance. Great. I never wanted Clover to find out how closely my appearance resembles my father. I don’t want her to know that I have a monster’s face. Half the time I think I have a monster’s mind too. I have worse secrets to keep from Clover.

“Yes, dad.”

I leave my backpack on the chair and follow him out of the dean’s office. A parade of parents are hoofing it down the hall behind my father, who drags me by the sleeve around the corner with a stern look on his face.

“You say nothing. You admit to nothing. You didn’t say anything without a lawyer, did you?”

This is his idea of a greeting. We haven’t seen each other in months. Why the bloody hell didn’t he send mum?

“I’m not in trouble, I don’t think.”

“Stand up straight, Thomas.”

“Yes, dad.”

“You look thin.”

“Thank you.”

“Grades?”

“All about an A.”

“Good. Excellent. Your mum mentioned you spent some money recently.”

I hate looking into my dad’s eyes. I hate looking at him at all. You don’t know how hard it is not to see yourself as a monster when you look exactly like one. I don’t want to be close to him.

“Yes.”

“You handled everything well. I’m proud of you.”

That doesn’t fill me with the pleasure he assumes it does. I’m not proud of what I did. Pride has nothing to do with it. I did this to protect Clover and when I find the other half of that freaky duo, I’ll do it again. I slip my hands into my pockets and notice that he’s done the same. We even have the same mannerisms.

He drags me back around the corner where I hear a woman shriek, “CLOVER!”

I recognize her distinct voice and what I now can identify as a Baltimore accent shrilling through the hallway and try not to smirk as I imagine Clover’s mortification. If I could save her from that, I would, but we’re the only people who can save ourselves from our parents.

Clover grunts. “Mom. Mom, you’re squishing me.”

Sylvia and her mom speak to each other in Haitian Creole in hushed and calm tones. Her mother hugs her and kisses her forehead. They’re sweet together and they look so similar, with very dark skin and fluffy hair. Kola’s father is quiet and he seems strict. Her shoulders round as he speaks to her sternly and she doesn’t quite seem like herself. I suppose she hasn’t since the attack. We have to find whoever did this to her.

The dean opens the door. “Mr. Bainbridge?”

My father and I both turn towards her. I toss a glance in Clover’s direction, but she can’t meet my gaze. She hasn’t looked at me since my dad walked into the room. Her mother pulls out a pallet of some shiny powder and dusts it over Clover’s cheeks as Clover mutters what’s likely a string of horrific swear words.

I follow my dad into the dean’s office. Kola’s right — today’s going to fucking suck.

My father somehow manages not to make the meeting entirely painful, but considering it’s the first he’s heard of the blackmail and everything else, the dean takes it upon herself to keep him informed. His expression doesn’t change, but it doesn’t have to for me to know how he’ll respond.

After our meeting, I follow him past the girls without looking up. When dad comes into town, you always go to dinner with him. No exceptions. My father isn’t the sort of person you want to offend. However, he isn’t the sort of person who minds being flagrantly offensive.

We slip into the car and he sighs before settling into the Rolls Royce’s custom seats, monogrammed with his initials. My father shakes his brown hair out of his face and turns to me, saying with a straight face, “It’s very wise to explore sex with these less desirable women. At least if you get the urge to kill one, you’ll find it much easier to cover up.”

That’s it. How could I have expected myself to survive an entire dinner with my father.

“Dad? I’ve got homework.”

“Is that so?”