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My eyes bug out, disbelief coursing through my veins. “Mom?”
I’ve never bothered to tell Dad about Michaela’s hate campaign against me, but I assumed Mom had at least broached it with him.
“This is pointless.” I throw up my hands, done with this conversation. “I’m not going to quit seeing Ace. He says he didn’t play that recording at the party, and I believe him.”
“Are you listening to this, Sarah?” Dad scoffs. “That boy is nothing but trouble, Remi. I refuse to sit by and watch him ruin your life.”
I leap up, my chest heaving. “That’s rich coming from you, Dad. You swanned off with your new family and left us behind like we were nothing. You fucking ruined my life, and I’m done. I’m so done.”
Mom calls after me, but I’m out of the house before she can catch up. I take off running toward the beach, indignation burning through me.
Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I dial Ace’s number but it rings out.
Remi: Call me when you can.
I swipe at the tears falling. I don’t want to cry, not over this.
Not over him.
But I can’t believe what just happened.
My relationship with my father has always been tenuous, ever since he upped and left. But he’s never made me feel more worthless than he did just now.
I glance back, spotting him and Mom on the terrace, searching for me, but I don’t stop, following the beach toward school. Dialing Hadley’s number instead, I barely manage to greet her as an ugly sob rips from my lungs.
“Remi?”
“C-can I come hang out at yours?”
“Girl, of course. You don’t have to ask, you know that. Is everything okay?”
“No,” I confess, all the pain and rejection of the last four years swelling inside me. “But it will be.”
I'm done with my father.
Done pretending we mean anything to each other.
Done playing happy family to abate his guilt.
As far as I’m concerned, Michaela is welcome to him.
“I’ve got Twizzlers, Swedish Fish, Nerds, or Jolly Ranchers.” Hadley glances back at me.
“You have a problem.” My brow rises as I suppress a smirk.
“So what? I like a little sugar fix now and again.” She bites the ends off a Twizzler.
“I’ll take a box of Ranchers.” She throws me one and I catch it, tearing it open.
Hadley’s room at Sterling Prep is like every other dorm room here: big, spacious, and worth every cent of its ridiculous price tag. Each student gets an en suite room in one of three dorm buildings situated in the grounds behind the main buildings. Then small groups share a communal kitchen and games room. Right now, as I stretch out in her queen-sized bed, I almost envy her.
“So what did you say?” she asks.
“I should have told him to go fuck himself.”
“Jesus, Remi.” She presses her lips together. “Why don’t you say it how it really is?”
I’m distracted by the vibration of my cell. Ace’s name flashes across my screen and relief floods me.
