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SULLY
Iwait up all night for Theo, but she doesn’t come home. I’m praying she stayed with Martinique.
I tried to call her ten times and texted her, alternating between fear, fury, and cold, sinking misery.
By morning, I’m sure I lost her.
It’s all my fault. I lost my temper. I saw the look on her face, the way she was reeling from whatever poison dagger Jessica deposited, but instead of asking her what was going on, I erupted, boiling over with the hot, molten rage that bubbled up in my guts when I laid eyes on Davis-fucking-Verger.
It was a shock, all our old classmates, all those same staring eyes, the ones that followed me everywhere I went in a wind of whispers,There he is, I heard his mom was cheating, I heard his dad went crazy, I heard he shot her himself…
And then that smug fucking bastard whispering in Theo’s ear, telling her all the old lies, all the old rumors…
I should have punched him just for taking her to prom. That little worm never deserved her.
And now, neither do I.
What the fuck do I care if she told Martinique? That was always going to happen; they’re best friends. It wasn’t fair from the beginning, and she told me that—I had Reese and my dad, while she had nobody else to talk to.
I should punchmyselfin the face for how I spoke to Theo, after everything she’s done for me. Right now, at this very moment, my dad’s sitting at the kitchen table drinking a latte with me. He hasn’t come inside the house in years—not before Theo came.
The sun shines on his clear blue eyes, on his bright and open face. Bernie Sanders rolls around our feet, nipping at our ankles. Dad’s telling me how Reese got him a bodyguard gig next week.
“It’s just a couple of days, but it pays a hell of a lot better than roofing?—“
“That’s incredible, Dad. Good for you.”
He puts his hand over mine on the table. Our hands are almost exactly the same size, but his is battered and weather-beaten, with tattoos on the knuckles. Mine is the same smooth olive tone as Reese’s and our mom’s.
“You’re not gonna need to cover the bills anymore, Sully. I’m sorry you ever did.”
“What are you talking about, I live here, too?—“
“And you’re welcome to live here as long as you like. But I’m not gonna drag you down anymore.”
I turn my hand over to grip his. “You never dragged me down, Dad. Everything good in me comes from you.”
He squeezes my hand tightly, eyes bright and blinking. “And everything great comes from your mom.” He lets go of my hand to ruffle my hair instead. “Where’s Theo?”
The smile slips off my face. “She went home.”
I can’t stand the pity in my dad’s eyes, so I stare at the table instead. It doesn’t help much—those baby blue lasers will burn right down to your soul.
“How’d you fuck that up?” he says.
I sigh, slumping down in my chair. “The usual way. Bad ideas, worse priorities, shit behavior.”
“Ah.” He nods, taking in all of me, the whole, familiar, frightful mess. My dad knows me inside and out, for better and for worse. Mostly worse. “How are you going to fix it?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
His snort startles me. My head jerks up, and I see my dad shaking his head at me.
“Sully, there’s not a damn thing you can’t do if you put your mind to it. You’re trying to tell me you can’t win back this girl who’s head over heels for you?”
“I don’t think she is, Dad. I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up this whole time?—“
“And she liked you this whole time.”
