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He’d named it that, but really, it was a small second living room that he was gradually turning into his office.
“Uh”—I glanced down at my outfit—“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Too late. Dad’s head appeared around the door, his eyes widening when he saw me. Clearing his throat, he said, “Hey, sweetheart. Got five minutes for your old man?”
I smiled, grateful that he was keeping his opinions on my new style to himself, unlike Mom, who wore her feelings on her sleeve—and face—for all to see.
“Sure.”
He disappeared back into the den, and I followed. A stack of boxes stood tall in the corner, making room for his leather chair and oak desk. I’d spent many nights as a kid, watching him pore over case notes at that desk. And I hated that he’d given it all up for me.
“You’re home early?” Dad sat in his chair while I sat on the leather ottoman.
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it.”
“I see you did something different with your jeans. It’s—”
“Different?” We both laughed. Dad made awkward situations easy; cracking a joke or saying something so ridiculous, it was impossible not to smile.
“You know, I knew Credence was going to be different, but I’m not sure I anticipated how much you would change.”
“It’s inevitable, Dad. If I want to fit in, I need to…” My voice trailed off.
What?
Wear new clothes?
Leave my most treasured item of jewelry at home?
Lie to my family? The people I called my friends?
Besides, I’d changed long before we arrived in Credence. Who knew the person I would have become if there had been a way to stay in Montecito?
Dad looked at me with his wise, all-knowing eyes and smiled. “I thought moving would be a quick fix, but I realize now that’s not the case.” He hesitated, a heavy frown set on his face. I opened my mouth, ready to try to reassure him, but he held up his hand. “No, Becca. What we did, what I did, I wish I could take it all away from you and carry it with me. But I can’t. Lord only knows, if I could, I would. I really think we can be happy here, sweetheart. It’s only a year, and then you’ll be off to college, living the life you were always destined for, sweetheart. I don’t want you to lose too much of yourself in the process, okay? Promise me?”
“I promise, Dad.” It rolled off my tongue with conviction because I owed it to him. But I didn’t believe it. I’d only been at Credence High for three weeks, and already, the cracks were showing. A lot could happen in a year.
“Good. That’s all I ask. Now, I hope you didn’t think it presumptuous of me, but I asked Mac about part-time work for students around town, and he lined you up an interview at Shake ‘n’ Pass, a diner downtown, if you’re interested. There’s enough set aside for tuition, but every bit helps, right?”
I flinched at his words. “Sure thing. Sounds good, Dad.”
It really didn’t—it sounded like my own personal version of hell. But I couldn’t tell him that. Because that would mean admitting just how shitty things were at school. So I grimaced through my internal meltdown as Dad shuffled a few papers on his desk and handed me a Post-it.
“This is the manager. You need to call this week to arrange an interview, okay?”
“Great.”
Worst. Nightmare.
* * *
“Doyou realize how pathetic you are?” Kendall circled me while I stood rooted to the spot unable to move. “I mean, look at you. You look like the thrift store puked on you.”
Male laughter sounded from behind me, and I turned slowly to meet Evan’s hard stare. Kendall sidled up to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Tell her, Evan. Tell her how it’s me you want.” She tilted her face up to his, and Evan leaned down, kissing her hungrily. Acid churned in my stomach, clawing up my throat.
“So sad.”
“Look at her, what a loser.”
