Page 96 of The Last Special Thing

Her phone vibrated.

Art

Amelia please talk to me. I’m sorry. I will do whatever you want. I’m lucky to have you and I know that. Please please respond. I love you.

She let out a breath. It was a conversation for after dinner.

Amelia dressed for the occasion. She wore a long brown skirt with a slight slit, crossover sandals, and a blush blouse. Even with makeup, her hazel eyes dulled. Instead of a summer adventure giving her a spark, it drained her. She brushed her blonde hair back and went to the main house.

A step inside, she could smell Lauren’s pot roast. As she entered the dining room, she found Weston sitting at the table, and she slowed.

“Glad you could join us?” she asked, perplexed.

Her father answered, “We asked Weston to join us tonight. We have something we need to discuss.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the formality of the statement. She took a seat. Dinner was set with white linen napkins and iced water in crystal glasses. The air felt colder, and dread seeped into her chest. Something was wrong.

“Is Georgina okay?” Amelia asked.

Her father leaned back and evaluated her. “You have no idea why you’re here?”

Her eyes flashed to Weston. His eyes were trained down at the slab of meat in front of him.

“Weston,” she commanded.

“I told them about Saturday,” he murmured. He had at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

Her skin crawled. How much about Saturday? She brought the cup of water to her lips, prolonging a response. She waited for someone else to speak rather than incriminate herself. A minute or two passed before her mom had had enough of the silence.

“The shrooms, the drinking, being alone!” Lauren shouted. The words were like glass breaking. Her mother never yelled, certainly, never in front of a guest.

Amelia pushed her feet into the floor, steadying herself. Weston told them everything.

“So what?” she finally retorted with a shrug. She didn’t know what else to say. It was true. It was a good strategic decision to have Weston join; she would give them that. Without him sitting across from her, able to corroborate the story, she might have tried to twist her way out of it.

James’ eyes bore into hers. “So you’re done. You’re done seeing this boy.”

Weston’s lips twitched.

“This is what you wanted all along,” Amelia said to Weston.

He leaned forward to answer, but James cut in. “This is not about Weston. He’s here, so you take accountability. You’re going to school in three weeks, and we’ll consider this all behind us.” He picked up his steak knife and cut into the slab of meat.

“He’s coming with me.”

Lauren choked on her water. “What?”

“We’re getting a place together in LA. I was going to tell you, and now you know.” She picked up her fork and dropped her eyes.

Amelia didn’t know if that was entirely true anymore, but she wouldn’t leave the conversation being told what to do. It was her life. She could make her own decisions.

“Absolutely not,” Lauren said.

There was a painful silence in the stalemate. Amelia took a bite of broccoli, feigning confidence as she chewed.

It was her father who broke the tension. “You’ll defer a year. Go abroad now,” he mused.

“What do you mean?”