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I wasn’t sure I had the guts.
Actually, I’m pretty positive I didn’t.
More tears filled my eyes. This was going to create huge waves. And I didn’t make waves; I calmed them.
“I…” Swallow, breathe, overcome. “Do you think I could talk about this later? I need to…I need to think.”
Mr. Howard’s facial features softened. “That would be just fine. Whenever you’re ready, my door will be open.”
“Thank you.” Pushing to my feet, I felt the urge to hug my second near-stranger adult for the day.
Must’ve been the whacked out emotions roaring through me.
At the door, I paused and glanced back. “What happened to Todd and Ryder?” I had to know.
He winced. “Out of school suspension.”
“Both of them?”
His nod of confirmation made me feel a little bit woozy and wishing I could see Ryder right about then so I could give him that second hug I was itching to give away.
Chapter 23
I had to get my mother alone, then I had to bolster my courage and somehow spit out the truth.
That’s all there was to it.
But when I arrived home, the first thing I heard when I opened the front door was, “Parents, don’t ever believe anything your teen tells you. Because they’ll lie…every time.”
Say what?
Frowning, I clutching the straps of my book bag tight and hurried to the entrance of the living room, only to stumble to a halt when I saw Mom standing frozen in front of the television, remote in hand as she stared transfixed at the screen where a girl sat, being interviewed. Silver studs pierced her eyebrows, nose, ears, and bottom lips. A black, tribal-lo
oking design tattooed a half ring around one eye and blonde, Jamaican dreadlocks covered her head, spilling down her shoulders. She sat in an interview chair and leaned forward in a dramatic pose as she stared out at my mother. And my mother seemed to swallow every word she said.
“My parents thought I was going to soccer practice after school every day, when really, I snuck off to my boyfriend’s garage to watch his band practice and get high with them.”
My jaw dropped as Mom sucked in a horrified gasp and lifted both her hands to cup her face. From my side view, I saw a trembling tear hover in the corner of her eye. The overhanging chandelier caught it in a prism-like effect, and it blinked out toward me like a light bulb, letting me see how clearly my plan to “talk” to my mother about her husband was a worthless effort.
Parents, don’t ever believe anything your teen tells you.
Dear God, why would someone ever say that? I had never lied to my mom...well, except when she asked who the third, unnamed boy was her husband had seen me talking to at the bowling alley. Ryder was most definitely not a “no one,” but that lie had been majorly white, and I probably would’ve spilled everything about him if Mr. Creepy hadn’t been standing next to her when she’d asked about him.
Grr. I wanted to storm into the living room, grab the remote control from her hand and turn that after-school special garbage off. Not every teenager on the planet did drugs, participated in premarital sex, or lied about where she was going to be.
But Mr. Creepy himself appeared in the living room and went directly to Mom, wrapping his nasty arms around her as he gave her a supportive hug. With a shiver of distaste, I jerked further out of view until I was cloaked in shadows.
“It’s only a stage, sweetheart,” he murmured in an assuring manner against mom’s temple. “Every teen goes through it. Grace is simply acting out because she’s jealous of me being the new person in your life. Just be patient. She’ll come around eventually.” Then he kissed Mom’s hair. She rested her head on his shoulder, hugging him back.
As my mouth dropped open in disbelief, he lifted his face and looked across the room, directly at me. I felt frozen as his gaze glittered, the meaning in his eyes no secret. If I tried to tell her what he’d done, she wouldn’t believe me; she’d only think I was trying to break her and her new husband apart because I was jealous.
Spinning away, I hurried to my room and bawled most of the evening away, until it was my turn to make supper. Before seeing her cry, I had planned on hopefully catching Mom by herself for a moment to lean in and whisper, “Hey, I need to talk to you…alone,” but he prevented even that, because he stuck to her like glue through the entire meal and even lingered around afterward to help her clear the table.
Then the call came.
She had to go into work. Again.
Barry glanced at me as soon as she hung up and made the announcement. The look of relish in his gaze sent a sickened shiver up my spine.
