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Now everything felt wrong.
She was keeping me at arm’s length, and some part of me wondered if it was because she thought I was like them. Like my mother and father and the rest of the Old Darling Hill elite.
“I made a lot of mistakes where your sister is concerned, some I fear I will never be able to rectify. But I am determined to keep her in my life. I am determined to show your mother that Harleigh Wren can be a part of our family, in her own way.
“I can love you and Max and your mom, and love Harleigh. It isn’t a scenario where I have to choose.”
“Does Mom know that?”
His expression tightened. “She’ll come around eventually. But what would really help my case is if you weren’t running off with Nate Miller and cutting class to go across the reservoir—”
“He’s my friend. They all are.”
But my voice had lost its usual conviction where Harleigh and her friends were concerned. After all, you couldn’t be the only person to fight for a friendship. If one of you started to let go, it left the other drifting. Clutching at air.
“You can invite them here,” he said. “I’ve told you more than once Harleigh and Chloe can come here and hang out.”
“So I can be friends with them but only if it’s under your roof?”
“Celeste, that’s not—” He let out a weary sigh. “I’m just saying, sweetheart, that things are a little tense right now. Max is… well, he’s Max. He’ll do whatever the hell he wants whether we tell him he can or not. But you’re different, sweetheart.
“It would mean a lot to me if you could try and appease your mother a little. She only wants the best for you. We both do.”
Pressing my lips together, I gave him a tight smile. “Got it, Dad. Maybe Chloe will want to hang out here.”
I don’t know why I said the words. She wouldn’t come here. Just like Harleigh wouldn’t. And I couldn’t blame them. But I also couldn’t keep trying to explain my side of things to my parents only to have them ignore me.
Dad was only worried about appeasing my mother and not losing the fragile relationship he had with Harleigh. Mom was only worried about impressing her friends and boosting her own reputation around town. And my brother… well, who knew what he worried about, but he certainly wasn’t confiding in me.
“That sounds great, sweetheart.” He smiled. “And please, don’t cut class again. Your mother almost had a heart attack when she got the call from Principal Diego.” He stood.
“I won’t, Dad.”
Dad gave me a small smile and left me alone. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest. I didn’t regret cutting class, not for a second. But I did regret letting Nate talk me into going to the game. Because now everything was only more confusing.
Zane had said some horrible, vile things to me. But then he’d kissed me.
He’d kissed me like he couldn’t help himself. And I’d loved it—I’ddrownedin him, ready to cross all kinds of lines that would only end in my ruin. Until he’d pushed me away like he hated me, and my heart had sunk. But just when I’d started to lose hope, to think that maybe I’d imagined all the tension between us, he had warned Greg off me like he was jealous. Like he couldn’t stand the idea of another guy wanting me.
I could only assume he wanted me. He just didn’twantto want me.
And I didn’t know which was worse.
That he wouldn’t allow himself to cross whatever imaginary line he’d drawn between us.
Or that he even had the willpower to stop.
* * *
“Celeste, so nice to see you again.” Mrs. Sinclair beckoned me into her office.
“I had a few hours to spare so figured I’d drop by.”
The truth was, I couldn’t bear to stay at home with Mom and Dad there. She’d collared me at breakfast, outlining her disappointment over bacon and eggs. I’d barely touched my plate, a potent mix of guilt and bitterness churning in my stomach.
My whole life, I’d followed the rules. Stuck to the rigid expectations bestowed on me by my parents. Any teen would crumble eventually. Fall prey to the whims of impulsivity and opportunity. Adults—parents—were foolish if they truly believed their kids weren’t getting up to no good on a weekend. The student population at DA had access to money, and money could buy all kinds of vices. Statistics suggested that nearly one out of every ten alcoholic drinks purchased in the country was consumed illegally. In a place like Old Darling Hill, that figure was probably a lot higher. The only difference was, the adults, the people in authority, turned a blind eye to the parties and scandals so long as it didn’t tarnish the reputation of the elite families in the town. Money talked, and when you had enough of it, you could bury any indiscretion deep enough to wipe it out of existence.
“How was your Friday evening?”
