Page 89 of The Coldest Winter


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“Okay.” He sighed.

I sighed, too.

Okay.

CHAPTER 31

Milo

We found a rehab center in Chicago that fit Dad’s needs. He stayed in the hospital for a week to recover, and on a Sunday morning, he came home for a short period, packed up some of his clothing, and Weston drove him down to the center to get him checked in.

I offered to go with them, but Dad said he’d rather not have me see him checking into a place like that. I wanted to be there, but I respected his choice. I couldn’t argue with him when he was on his way to get help. He’d be there for at least four weeks, which felt like a reasonable amount of time to help him get back on his feet.

The moment they left the house, I called Starlet to come over, and she was there within thirty minutes. We talked for a while, then spent hours working on our homework. We cooked one of Mom’s recipes for dinner, and as we set the table for the meal, we were interrupted by the sound of a car engine outside. I froze for a second after hearing keys jiggling in the front door. Then in walked Weston.

“Okay, Milo. Your dad is all settled in. I know you said you wanted today to be on your own, but the idea of you sitting here alone killed me. So I got us some dinner.”

Starlet stood in the dining room, frozen in place. I didn’t move an inch, either. It felt as if everything around us slowed down.

“Ms. Evans,” Weston stated, stunned by Starlet standing there. In my T-shirt. In her panties.

Fuck.

“Oh my goodness! Principal Gallo, hi,” Starlet blurted out, growing flustered.

I saw Weston’s nose flare as the rage he was witnessing hit him at full speed. "Are you kidding me?" he shouted. He pinched his nose and turned his back on us both.

“I can explain,” I said as Starlet began to tremble uncontrollably beside me. Her mind was probably in an instant meltdown. My gut hurt just thinking about what was happening within her body.

“How about you not?” Weston snapped. “Ms. Evans, perhaps you should go find your pants and leave this house.”

Starlet’s mouth parted, but no words came out. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she hurried to the bedroom to collect her things. When she walked out with her duffel bag, Weston huffed in amazement.

“Were we having sleepovers? Is that what we were doing?” he snarled at her.

“Take it easy, West,” I told him.

“Don’t,” he barked, pointing a stern finger my way. “Don’t, Milo.”

Starlet moved past Weston with her head staring down at the floor. Her body was trembling at a speed that made me nervous. Her lips parted once more. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.” I wasn’t sure if it was an apology for Weston or me, but before I could tell her not to apologize, she was out the door, in her car, and driving away.

Weston’s hands were on his hips, and he looked at me as if I were insane. “Are you shitting me, Milo?”

“You didn’t have to react like that,” I told him.

His eyes widened with anger. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to be oddly cool with one of my teachers screwing her students? Screwing my nephew?! Gee, my bad. I forgot that that was how I was supposed to react to that situation!”

“Student teacher,” I muttered as if that made a huge difference.

Weston stared at me as if I had grown two heads or something. “Un-fucking-believable, Milo. Truly. With everything going on right now, you thought this was the right next step.”

“You think I don’t know what’s going on? It’s all happening to me, okay? I get what’s happening. And if it wasn’t for Star—”

“Ms. Evans,” he corrected. “Her name is Ms. Evans to you.”

“I love her,” I said, standing tall but feeling as if I were a little kid being scolded for acting out. “I love her, West.”

For a moment, his eyes glassed over. For a moment, I thought he might understand. For a moment, I thought he’d heard my words and was looking past the flaws in how Starlet and I found our way to one another. But then his stare turned cold. “Well, stop loving her. Now.”

He turned and walked out of the house, leaving me standing there alone.

The first thing I did was rush to my phone to call Starlet.

She didn’t answer.

I shot off a handful of text messages. I called her a dozen more times.

Still, no reply.

CHAPTER 32

Starlet

On Wednesday afternoon, I was summoned to the principal’s office.

I hadn’t slept a wink the night prior. I was physically ill for most of the night, unable to do anything other than throw up everything inside me. Whitney was worried I had the flu, but I was too ashamed to tell her what happened.

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