“Braden is innocent,” he snaps. “And he’s your family. You need to support him.”
“Yeah. Got it.” I pick up my literature book.
Brock snatches it from me. “Listen to me.” His eyes lock on mine. “Braden is innocent. I don’t care what anyone tells you or what evidence appears. He’s innocent, and that’s the story we will tell.Allof us.”
“Story?” I cock my head. “Aren’t stories usually made up?”
He sets my book down and does that thing where he breathes through his nose and lets it out. “That is the statement,” he clarifies, “we will give to whoever asks. Braden is innocent. That’s all you need to say. Any questions?”
“Yes, but not about Braden.”
“What is it?”
“I need to take Driver’s Ed. I need to start this week.”
“You said you didn’t want to.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Then sign yourself up. I’m sure you can find a place online. Sign up and I’ll pay for it.”
“You’re really letting me drive?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You never want me to leave the house.”
“Because you’re grounded. Have you forgotten you punched a girl?”
“About that. If I play along at counseling, will you cut the time I’m grounded for?”
“If you’re referring to the counselor I’ll be sending you to, then yes. As for the school counseling sessions, you need to do as I said and find a way out of that. I don’t want you seeing someone who’s inexperienced.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’m good at getting kicked out of stuff.”
“Hopefully that doesn’t include school. How are your classes going?”
“Okay. I heard Ms. Pruitt comes back on Monday so I’m sure that’ll suck.”
“Just keep quiet and do your work. And sit in the back. I’ve heard her eyesight is failing. If you sit in the back, she might forget you’re there.”
“I already sit in the back, but good to know about the eyesight thing.”
He gets up to leave, then turns back. “About the card. I know you took it.”
I keep quiet as I try to figure out how to respond. He doesn’t seem angry. There’s some other expression on his face. I’m notsure what it means. His lips are turned slightly up, his eyes dark and intense.
“Did you try the number?” he asks, his lips turning up even more.
Why is he smiling? Does he think hiding my dad from me is funny? If so, he has a sick sense of humor.
“He’s not there anymore.”
“Is that so?” he says with a laugh.
“Why are you laughing? He’s missing. That’s not funny.”
“He’s not missing. He’s on one of his many binges. He always does this after getting out of rehab.”
