I needed Jack.
Once dry and snug under my blankets, I reached for my phone to end this night on the highest note possible.
You awake?
He called instead of replying.
“Hel—”
“Fuck, Cal, are you okay?” Jack rushed out, interrupting me with a raw voice and sniffles.
“Don’t cry, Princess. I’m okay.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think beyond worrying. Fuck, your dad was so mad. What happened? I was so scared for you.”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry you were scared. Everything’s okay.” I sighed and grinned in spite of it all. “So much happened. I told them, like, all of it.”
“Them?”
“Momma came over and brought Cara home. We talked—well, they started off arguing, but I was so fed up. I yelled and bitched them out for being bad parents.”
Jack gasped. “Jesus. Good for you. They deserved it.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’m so tired.”
“Will you be at school tomorrow?”
I nodded, but he couldn’t see it, of course. “Yeah. Momma and Daddy are coming with me too. They want to talk to the faculty about Sasha, about, you know.”
“Fucking finally. They better kick that bitch out.”
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Same. Want to sleep?”
“No. I mean, will you stay on the phone with me until I do?”
Jack chuckled. “Anything for my princess.”
“You’re the princess,” I slurred.
If he answered, I never heard it. The night would be too short to be restful, but finally, things would get better—they had to. I was determined to make it so. With Jack beside me and the support of my friends, we’d make it happen.
Thefirsthalfhourof our two families coming together was as awkward as I’d figured it’d be.
Our daddies had shaken hands in introduction while our mommas said nice things about what each other was wearing. Alissa had also added how much she thought of me and was glad Jack and I were together. Then the table had fallen into silence.
Jack held my hand where it lay propped on my knee, and Ty kept Cara quietly giggling with God only knew what.
Having dinner together during our winter break had been Daddy’s idea.
After storming into school the day after we’d had our family meltdown, demanding to know what the faculty was doing to protect its students during school hours, to protectme, he’d wanted to meet the family of the guy I’d been spending most of my days with.
Daddy and Momma, both, had apologized over and over about how they’d acted, but I stayed firm in what I said. The hurt feelings and the stung self-esteem was too raw, and I wasn’t willing to open myself up to further pain if they failed to followthrough.
But they’d kept their promises so far.
It wasn’t until the week between Christmas and New Year’s that everyone’s schedule aligned. Momma had suggested cooking at our house, but Daddy wanted to meet them at a restaurant—neutral ground, he’d said.
