“Well, I gotta get going.”
Brielle shot me a look of panic as if somehow I was supposed to keep saving her.
Reece took another bite of his protein bar as he leaned back with one foot against the basement door frame. The dude was enjoying this! I shot him a glare. He smiled.
Mr. Walters saw all of it. The looks between the three of us, Reece’s foot on the wall, which made Mr. Walters snap his fingers and point at the floor. Reece put his foot down.
Dang.
Mr. Walters turned to me. “I won’t keep you tonight. I’m sure we’ll see you soon.”
“We were going to get supper tomorrow night,” Brielle said quickly. I think she said it now so if her dad was going to get super mad at the date we’d planned, he couldn’t politely erupt in front of me.
But again, Mr. Walters stayed chill. He just nodded. “Come a half hour before.” He stuck out his hand to shake mine. “So we can talk.”
He was squeezing my hand tighter than I preferred. When he released it, I fought the urge to flex my fingers.
“K.” I said. “I’ll—see you guys around.” I tossed Reece a wave and nodded at Brielle.
She opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut.
I won’t lie. I made it out of the Walters’ house as fast as I could and jogged to my car parked on the street. Today had not gone as expected. I woke up this morning with my biggest worry being how to prep for baseball team tryouts next month and who I should get to know at school to make that happen. But tonight? I was going home with trouble, a girlfriend, fifty dollars, and a dad who most definitely was not my biggest fan.
No hamburger was worth this.
Chapter 9
Brielle
Dad was . . . not happy. I may have reached the age of sixteen, where all parents suddenly decide you’re mature enough to date—like someone sprinkles you with magic fairy dust and as soon as the calendar flips, you’re all wise and smart and stuff—but my dad is not a normal dad. I always say Dad has spent my entire life lying to me. I really believe he works for the CIA and is trained in special forces tactics and interrogation skills. I think he’s probably responsible for at least ninety percent of all mercenaries who go missing and are never seen again. Dad is like a Navy SEAL and Batman paired up to become the justice keepers of the world. Or at least our home.
That’s why last night was freaking me out on triggering levels of stress. He even made me take my phone out of my back pocket and—wait for it—hang up on Lia. I’m not sure he was prepared for the emotional tsunami that inspired. After I was done taking out the family peace with my tidal wave of fury for being separated from my BFF in Canada, Dad had the nerve to take off my bedroom doorknob and tell me , “If you can’t react rationally to a reasonable conversation where I’m asking inquiring questions about a boy I’ve never met, and you can’t last five minutes without Lia mumbling from your pocket, then, you need tounderstand that your privacy and the freedom to be your own individual has been canceled.”
“For how long?” I did not react any more rationally with this follow-up question.
“As long as I feel like it. I’m your dad.”
“That’s not—”
“And!” He stabbed me with his I’ve-gotten-to-Level-5-in-the-red-danger-zone look and finished with, “Keep this up and I’ll take your phone.”
Dear God in Heaven. Lord, help.
I didn’t even know what the issue was now. Me dating Brooks without asking Dad about it first? Or me freaking out because Dad told me to end my video call with Lia? Or maybe it was the stress of today just all coming together in one final explosion that felt a lot like stepping on a landmine.
Whatever it was, now I didn’t have a doorknob, and Reece had spent the better part of last night shooting foam bullets at me through the hole. Dad didn’t even put a stop tothatimmaturity. I swear he loves Reece more.
Whatever.
Now my locker door was stuck, and my backpack weighed more than an overweight rhinoceros. I was supposed to go to dinner with Brooks tonight, only now I wasn’t sure if that was even allowed because of Dad. And I was a little weirded out by a few of the sideways glances I was getting from girls at school who usually ignore me completely.
So there was a picture. Of me with the new guy at school.
Big deal.
Apparently, it sort of was, but I hoped after a day or two it’d become old news and Brooks and I could “break up” and go back to our personal happily-ever-afters.
“Coffee?”
