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She didn’t think that was a very good idea.
Thunder cracked again, and she flinched. But lightning flashed harmlessly behind the trees.
Simon stepped forward and shoved her father with his shoulder, stomping to the BMW. At the door, he turned and gave her father a gesture that didn’t need any translation. Then he slid into the backseat and slammed the door.
Layne swallowed. But at least her father’s focus was thrown.
Michael was already herding Gabriel toward the front door, and she turned on her heel and headed for the car herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting next to her father for the drive home, so she slid in beside Simon.
She didn’t have the courage to slam the door herself.
A lecture had to be forthcoming, but when her father got in the car, he didn’t say anything. Just switched on XM Radio, the classical station.
He only listened to classical when he was furious.
“Dad,” she whispered, “I’m really ”
“Not now, Layne.”
His voice was a smack across the face, disappointment and disgust and fury all contained in three words. She fell back against the seat.
But Simon tapped her leg. His eyes were red, some combination of fear and anger. With rain on his cheeks, he looked like he was simultaneously ready to cry and put his fist through the car window.
It’s okay, she signed. I’ll tell him it was my fault.
Simon brushed her hands aside, his way of telling her to shut up.
Then he glanced at the front seat of the car, the way her father’s hands were practically molding the steering wheel into a new shape.
Simon looked back at her. I hate him.
Layne remembered her thoughts from the kitchen, when she’d wondered about what she always saw and what was really there.
After hearing her father denigrate Gabriel and his brother, it made her want to realign everything she knew about her father.
And about herself, too.
CHAPTER 28
Gabriel couldn’t get the music loud enough. Maybe if he put a pillow over his head. His eyes were fixed on the white drywall of his bedroom ceiling, his iPod earbuds pressed into his ears so tightly that they were beginning to hurt.
He was trying to block out the sound of Layne’s father’s voice, which kept replaying in his head like it was on some kind of loop.
His door opened, and Michael filled the doorway.
Gabriel yanked the headphones out of his ears, but music still poured out against his comforter. “Ever hear of knocking?”
He wanted his voice to be sharp, but he couldn’t generate the usual anger.
He’s not worthless. And you’re out of line.
“I did knock,” said Michael. “Three times.”
Oh. Gabriel pushed PAUSE on the iPod and looked back at the ceiling. “Sorry.”
He was ready for the lecture about the lightning, about lying, but Michael just stood there, keys jingling in his hand. “I still need to go to Home Depot. Want to come?”
He didn’t want to. But the alternative was sitting alone in his bedroom, feeling lightning in the air. Regretting the afternoon.
