Flash
Sixth Grade, 12 YearsOld...
Iheard Dad’s pissed-off footsteps on the stairs and scowled. I was currently sitting cross-legged on my bed, trying to text Tate.
Unsuccessfully.
Dad knocked, then pushed the door open. “Phone down, bud.”
I dropped the phone on the nightstand and settled my chin in my hand as Dad sat beside me on the bed. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Nothing.”
Dad nodded to my phone. “Do I need to ground you from textin’ Tate?”
“She grounded herself,” I grumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s not talking to me, Dad,okay?”
Dad raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Swear to God, kid, you keep up with this ‘nothing’ bullshit, I’m gonna sell your bike.”
I glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Start talkin’. All of it.”
“A girl at school’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Her dad hits her.”
Dad fisted his hands in his lap. “And why’s Tate not talkin’ to you?”
“Because I’ve been skipping our study group to help Madison.”
“Madison’s the girl who’s gettin’ hit?”
I nodded.
“Has Madison told her teachers what’s goin’ on?”
“No. And she swore me to secrecy, but now I’ve told you, so I’ve betrayed her confidence.”
“You like this girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Tate jealous about that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. She’d probably tell me if she was. She tells me everything. Even stuff I don’t wanna know.”
“I guess that’s what best friends are for, huh?”
