She opens the door. "I just wanted to ask if you'd heard from him."
I shake my head. "Not today."
She comes over to me. "I'm sorry, honey. You know it isn't about you, right?"
"I know." I give her a half-smile. "I'm fine. Really. I'd rather not talk to him. Not right now."
She half smiles, then leans down to kiss my forehead. "I'll let you study. Let me know if you change your mind about dinner."
I lied. I actuallydidhear from him. My dad called me, texted me, then called again. I ignored him because I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to hear him try to apologize or make excuses for why he did this. My dad's a cheater and a liar who only cares about himself. I used to idolize him and think he was the best dad ever. I couldn't have been more wrong.
The phone rings. It's Chelsea, my sister. She's 23 and lives in Dallas. She graduated college last year and has a job at a bank.
"Hey," I say, answering the call.
"Bad day?" she asks, sensing it from my tone.
Chelsea knows me better than anyone. I don't bother trying to hide how I'm feeling with her because she always knows when I'm faking it. Mom has no clue. If I smile, she assumes I'm happy.
"I just want this year to be over."
Chelsea sighs. "Wish I could be there to make things better."
"I'll be okay. It's just a lot of change all at once."
"How's Mom doing? I talked to her but you know how she is, always pretending everything's great when it's not."
"She's the same way with me so I really don't know how she's doing. From the bags under her eyes I can tell she's tired but she denies it if I ask."
"Has she heard from Dad?"
"No, or if she has, she didn't tell me."
"He called me today."
"Me too. Twice."
She pauses. "I picked up."
"Youwhat?" I get off my bed, anger filling my veins. "We had a deal!"
"That wasyourdeal, not mine. Brook, I know you're mad at him for what he did—I am too—but he's still our dad and someday you might want a relationship with him again."
"Why? So he can lie to me? Tell me what I want to hear? Make me promises he'll never keep?"
"I shouldn't have told you. Just forget I said it."
"Too late." I stand in front on the window, looking down at the dingy street, litter blowing around from a garbage can tipped on its side. It's a sharp contrast to the street I used to live on, lined with trees and flowers, manicured lawns, and well-kept houses. "So what did he say?"
"He told me about her."
I let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, so now he wants us to know about her? After hiding her for over a year? Telling Mom she was crazy to think he was cheating? How could you betray Mom like this? After what he did to her? And tous?"
Chelsea sighs. "He made a mistake, and I'm not betraying Mom. She's the one who told me to talk to him. She doesn't want us losing our dad over this."
"Well, you can talk to him but I'm not. I hate him."
"You don't hate him. You're just angry."
