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Chapter Twenty-Five
Mia
I shouldn’t be surprisedto see Dad waiting for me when I walk inside the house.
I’m later than usual. Boy am I ever. It’s just gone midday and I usually get here around eightish. Nineish.
Let’s just say it’s been hiking up for the last few days. Could be a little over a week. Maybe a little more.
He’s not used to me coming in later than I said I would or falling out of habit.
I never gave him the trouble most teenaged girls give in those core years when you’re trying to explore and date.
I always had my nose buried in a law book and in my spare time I’d be shopping with the girls. He always knew where I was and like clockwork I’d be in on time.
That’s not me now and I know he would have seen Nick one or two times when he’d brought me home.
Like just now and we were kind of kissing on the porch.
Kissing a little too scandalous for our suburban neighborhood with peeping Toms looking for the next item of gossip, or worried sick fathers who want answers.
I close the door and Dad quirks a brow.
“Morning,” I say trying to sound bright and chirpy. Then I remember it’s not morning. I keep doing that.
Dad glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall which counters my brightness and answers for him as it shows it’s twelve fifteen.
“If you say so. I don’t mind pretending it’s still morning, though.” Dad smiles and runs a hand through his light blonde hair he’s allowed to grow out over the last few weeks.
“Oh, um… I know I’m a little late. I just…”
He holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Mia no… you don’t have to apologize to me. Just send me a text so I don’t worry. That’s all. A text if you’re going to be late, or um… busy with your friend.”
At first I think he means Chloe, but in an instant I know he’s not talking about her. He totally saw Nick and me on the porch.
My skin flushes and heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Friend?” I should say a little more about Nick. It’s not right that I don’t talk about him if people are going to be seeing us kissing the way we were on the porch.
It was different when we weren’t doing that.
What do I say though?
What do I say Nick is when I’m still not sure myself?
“Yes, guy with the Ferrari who seems to be the cause of my daughter’s happiness. I’m guessing for the last few weeks? Gonna tell me who he is?” Dad smiles.
Here we go…
I pull in deep a breath, set my bag down and walk closer to him.
“He’s from work.” There that was a good start and probably where I should leave it, but Dad looks at me like he wants me to continue and elaborate. “His name’s Nick.”
“Do I get to meet friend Nick?”
I stare at him and think about it. I think about what that kind of meeting would be like. Dad thinks this is normal, like I know Nick under normal circumstances. I know he’d be so shocked and probably ashamed of me if I tell him the truth.
What is truth though?
