She pauses, then says, “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but he left a few weeks ago.”
“Left for another rehab place?” I ask, knowing he’s done that before. He’ll go to a place for thirty days, it doesn’t work, and he’ll transfer to another.
“As far as I know, he went home. As his daughter you should already know this,” she says in a suspicious tone. “I don’t believe you told me your name.”
I press end on my phone and toss it on the bed.
He’s not there anymore. He left weeks ago. I moved here weeks ago. Why didn’t he let me stay with him? Why is he making me stay with Brock? Is it because he doesn’t want me? Or can’t afford to take care of me? Or maybe he’s using again and doesn’t want me to know.
Whatever the reason, he could’ve at least told me he was back home. But if he’s home, why isn’t his phone working? He lives in LA. He wouldn’t have issues getting a signal there, which means he’s somewhere else. But where?
My phone dings with a text from Jackson.
Need to see you.
I can’t,I text back.
They’re all here. They’ll know if I leave.
Make up an excuse. Meet me at the end of the street. I’ll pick you up.
Now? Where are you?
Home. We need to talk. We’ll go somewhere where people won’t see us.
I chew on my lip, pacing my room as I try to think of a lie to tell Brock that’ll get me out of the house without him suspecting something.
My phone rings, and I race to my bed to pick it up. “Yeah?” I say, assuming it’s Jackson.
“Hey, it’s Shayla,” she says in a cheery tone. “Sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been busy with school and helping my mom.”
“That’s okay, I’ve been busy too.” I grab my keys from my drawer and my sneakers from the closet.
“How was your first week at Twisted Pine?” Shayla asks.
“Not great. I punched the principal’s daughter.”
She gasps. “Oh my God, you mean Kristen? Kristen Reynolds?”
“You know her?”
“Everyone does. Her mom is like the richest person in town. She donates a lot of money to get her name on stuff so yeah, everyone knows her. I can’t believe you punched Kristen! What happened?”
“Long story. And long week. I was tired and cranky and not in the mood for her shit.”
Shayla laughs. “You’re like a hero now. Do you know how many people would love to punch Kristen? She’s so freaking spoiled. She gets whatever she wants and she’s still not happy.”
“That was part of the reason I punched her.”
“Why? What’d she want?”
“Nothing important,” I say, remembering I can’t tell Shayla I’m with Jackson. She’ll tell me to let him go, and I can’t. He’s the only person here I feel I can really talk to, and who understands. “I was just fed up with her. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m trying to forget it.”
“So what are you doing? You want to hang out?”
“I can’t right now. Something happened. Something I can’t talk about.”
“Does it have to do with Andrea?”
