Page 72 of Saints & Sailors

His quietness left me confused, but I couldn’t articulate anything I was feeling in that moment. I bottled up all thoughts to dissect for another time.

“What are you doing today after school?” Scott asked a while later as we finished up our breakfast.

I gathered our plates and prepared to bring them to the sink. “Work, at Angela’s, unless you think I’ve learned my lesson and wanna pull me from the salon.”

Scott chuckled. “Do you want to be the one who stands up to Ang?”

I paused, thinking it over. “Fair enough.”

In the kitchen, I scraped the remains from our plates into the trash before setting them in the sink to be washed. I was running behind and had to meet up with Dreux, or else I would’ve hung around and helped Scott clean up more.

“Have a good day at school,” he told me as he came and handed me my lunch bag. Inside was probably another salad, or chicken wrap. Whatever it was, I admired Scott’s effort.

“Thanks, I better go before Dreux comes looking for me,” I said.

Scott bobbed his head. “Dreux’s a good kid.”

Even if he’d momentarily slipped and became reckless, there was no denying all the goodness in Dreux. “Maybe someday I’ll be like him.”

Scott’s brows furrowed. “Dreux’s great, but you don’t need to model yourself after him. I like you and the potential you have before you.”

“Mean it?” I wondered innocently. Unlike everyone else, I had no plans, goals, or talents. I was still figuring a lot of things out, and it meant a lot that it didn’t make me a total loser in Scott’s eyes. Despite our checkered past, I wasn’t exactly the kind of kid parents would brag about.

Scott came closer, squeezing my shoulders. “Of course. I want my kid to be herself above anything. You have a lot of time left to find yourself and be who you are. William Henley, right? You’re the captain of your own ship, you don’t have to be like anyone else, Saylor.”

It was the nicest thing I’d heard in a long time and for that I hugged my father.

We pulled apart, sharing a smile and probably both knowing we’d be more than okay.

In time, who knew, maybe we’d perfect this father/daughter thing.

Dreux was waiting for me patiently in his Bronco when I finally made it next door. Again, he was listening to some hip-hop station, and because I knew he’d turn the volume up, I said nothing. I had liked those two songs I’d heard that first day we’d rode to school together anyway.

“Ready?” he asked as he faced me, eager to get a move on.

Underneath his navy-blue and gray Horton High baseball cap, he appeared partly concerned and curious as his dark eyes bore into mine, searching, it seemed, for a sign of distress.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said as I buckled in.

Dreux put the Bronco in reverse and soon backed out of his driveway before hitting the road for school. Even if it took a little longer, I liked that he took the scenic route. It was peaceful just cruising in the car like that.

“How were things with Scott?” Dreux wondered.

Thinking over our small hiccup before breakfast, I said, “Awkward.”

“Give it time, it’s only been a couple of weeks.”

True, we’d made progress by laying it all out on the table. I knew the truth of my conception and his intentions, and the only way forward was to try.

“It’s weird, you know? I totally have the power to be all ‘fuck you, send me home.’ But I’m not feeling it.”

Dreux bobbed his head. “Progress.”

“I guess.”

“He’s trying, Saylor. Can’t fault him for that.”

“Like with René?”