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My gaze snaps to the door, as I listen to make sure dad is still watching TV downstairs. “Yas, please keep your voice down,” I practically hiss. “What if dad heard you?”
“Sorry. Yeah, that’s fair. But so is my question.”
I wring my hands together, trying to make sense of my thoughts, which is an impossible game to win. “I don’t know what I want with him. I just know it’s more than a fling.”
“Well, you can discuss it when you see him. Did you give him a location for this secret romantic rendezvous in the letter?”
Secret romantic rendezvous.
The words should make me laugh, but I can’t deny that’s exactly what we’re going to do. At least, that’s what I want.
“Starling Park in the city. It’s huge and even at this time of year, there should be tourists all over the place. So even if dad decides to randomly leave work and drive to the other side of the city to walk through the park, he shouldn’t see us. God, this makes me feel so dirty.”
“Who said dirty was a bad thing, huh?” Yasmin teases.
“Come on, Yas. I don’t mean dirty like that. I mean… What if dad finds out? He and Bennet served overseas together. It would break his heart.”
Yasmin frowns, some of the sassiness deflating out of her. “Yeah, that is a problem. You could tell him you’re meeting with Bennet?”
“Without discussing it with Bennet first? What if Bennet doesn’t even show, and then I’ve told dad for nothing? Or what if he does show… but only to tell me he’s not interested and our letters were a mistake?”
“Rory, he left a fuck note in your mailbox, inside your writing magazine. That’s a whole lot of effort to go through, a whole lot of time to turn back and rethink his decision, but he did it anyway.”
“A fuck note?” I can’t help but laugh, despite the guilt making my stomach knot.
“It’s like a love note. But you know… for when somebody wants to fuck.”
“Because I’m such an expert in that area.” I groan. “What the heck am I doing, Yas?”
“Well, you need to stop saying heck, for a starter.”
We chuckle together. Yasmin has always been the more adventurous one, going out with boys and to parties when I stayed home with a book, either reading or trying to write. We remained friends because of our bond through our early years, always finding time for each other, even when our paths veered when we were teenagers.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say after a pause.
“It sounds like you do know what to do, though,” she says. “You went through the effort of writing and delivering that letter. That seems pretty clear to me.”
“Yeah, I get that. But…”
“But what?” she urges.
“But dad.”
She nods. “Yeah, I know. It’s tough. I wish I had the perfect solution. Maybe meet with Bennet first, see how you both feel, and then you can make a decision about your dad.”
I’m far too eager to agree with this plan, far too desperate for a way out of telling him. I just can’t think about how he’ll react, the pain in his expression.
But Yasmin’s right.
I won’t know if it’s even worth mentioning to my dad until I meet with Bennet.
Or is that just an excuse?
“Rory, are you okay?”
I look up from my paperback at my dad. He sits in his favorite armchair, his face ruddy from so much time spent out on construction sites. Even if he owns the company, he spends most of his time outside. He’s a tall strong man, with a kind smile and eyes, supportive in a way most girls could only dream of.
And here I am threatening to shatter him to pieces.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’ve been reading that page for fifteen minutes.” He smiles. “Is it your book? Or college?”
“College is going fine,” I tell him. “Better than fine, actually. I love it. And my book is… well, it’s going. Pages are accumulating. Whether they are good or bad pages remains to be seen.”
“I’m proud of you,” he says. “But then you already know that, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t hurt to hear it though.” I return his smile. “Dad…”
Shut up, a voice warns inside of my head.
“Hmm?” He’s turned back to the TV, watching the highlights from a football game.
“You know Bennet?”
“I’m familiar with the name,” he jokes.
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
Dad glances at me. “No, why?”
“Yasmin and I have a bet. She is sure he does. I guess she thinks he’s attractive or something.”
Am I being way too freaking obvious here? I try to keep my voice casual, trapping my feelings down deep.
“Why did you bet he wouldn’t?” Dad asks.
“Because I’ve never seen him with a woman,” I answer honestly. “All while growing up, and through his visits, I can’t ever remember him having a girlfriend.”
