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“He’s not making me beanyway!” Of course she’d try to blame this all on him. “He makes me feel alive, Mom, more than I have—”
“Alive.” Her voice sounded unrecognizable, caught on a scoff. “You’re seventeen, Destelle. Dating a guy with tattoos and mystery may seem fun now, but what plans does he have for the future, hmm? Does he even haveany?”
“Don’t act like you know him. He wants to advance with his music career—”
“Music career.” Disdain dripped from her voice. “He doesn’t have one, Destelle. No records, no albums. That’s not a career.”
I recoiled from her tone, from her heartless words. “When did you get so judgmental? When did you turn intothem?”
To me, “them” was obvious. All of those people at the country club and the fundraisers who cared more about image and prestige than actual human decency. They’d put on fake smiles, give phony compliments, but there wasn’t anything genuine behind their mask.
The sedan’s door popped open, and Dad stood up. Interesting that he got out only now, once Harry left. “Get in the car, you two. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
Mom pretended that she couldn’t hear him, fixing me with an intimidating stare. “He’s taking you down a path that you can’t reverse off of.”
“No,” I said, emotion gripping my throat. “I’mtaking myself down a path, one thatI’mchoosing. Not him. Not you. A path that you can’t control anymore.”
“Destelle, give your mother your cell phone and get in your car,” Dad said, voice forceful, in a way that was much scarier than Mom’s. “Now, before you say anything more that you’ll regret later.”
He was wrong. I wasn’t going to regret any of it later.
After slamming my cell into Mom’s outstretched palm, I settled behind the steering wheel, the coldness of the surrounding air finally settling over my skin. Even so, I could barely think of it in that moment. I could barely think around the rapid beating of my heart, the way it pulsed like a roaring wave in my ears. Everything crashed down around me. Something was going on with Harry, and my parents found out the truth about the double life I’d been living since November.
Things were changing, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face it.
I put the car into gear and drove home, and Dad’s headlights stayed in the rearview the entire time.
Dad determined that everyone needed to sleep off their anger before we got into the Harry conversation, so he pushed off the verbal chew-out until Saturday morning. I couldn’t really sleep my anger off, though. I’d been tossing and turning all night. No matter how I tried to lie in bed, I couldn’t get comfortable.
Now I sat in a chair in Dad’s study, slumping back against it. The chair was usually a formality, a piece of furniture in the space to take up the room, but whenever one of us kids got in trouble, we were doomed to sit in it while Dad doled out a punishment.
My eyes were on my father, who looked at me evenly. It was only Dad and me having this conversation, but I had no doubts Mom would come in later. “Destelle,” he began, voice deceitfully calm. “Why don’t you tell me what went on last night?”
Let the trial begin. “I went to Crushed Beanz to listen to a band play.”
“Instead of babysitting, like you explicitly told us you were going to do.”
“Yes.”
Dad made a show of shifting in his seat, never taking his eyes off me. “Your mother called Mrs. Heston a little before ten. Asked what time you’d left her house.” He raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Heston promptly replied that you were not, nor had you been, at her house.”
Of coursethat’swhat ruined it all—Mom checking in on me. I’d always been afraid of that happening, Mom calling the place I was supposed to be volunteering at, and she finally did.
“So, we tracked your cell,” Dad went on, walking me through their process. “Found your phone in downtown Hallow. Foundyou, half-dressed, wearing a wig, kissing a boy against your car.”
Half-dressed. It wasn’t like I had no shirt on at all. “He was my boyfriend. I’m allowed to kiss him.”
Dad caught the word. “Was?”
Some wind dropped out of my sails, shoulders slumping as I remembered Harry’s expression even before my parents showed. “After the way Mom talked to him last night, why would he want to be with me?”
“Your mother thinks I should ground you,” he said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. With the action, I found my gaze latching onto his wedding ring, the gold catching in the morning light that peeked through the window. “You deserve it, you know. We’ve raised you better than to lie. And you’ve been lying this entire time about your volunteering services.” Dad lowered his hand, gaze intense. “Think about it, Destelle. Think about who I am, who your mother is. We can’t have a child going off the rails.”
“Yes, because you and Mom are God’s gift to the judicial system,” I muttered, slumping even lower in my seat. I wished he’d get on with it. “You two are just mad that I’m acting out.”
Dad snorted, but it sounded more amused than angry. “Well, yes, we are—”
“That I’m not being the perfect daughter you’ve forced me to be.”
