His eyes darken, and I’m scared. His jaw muscles tense as he grabs the glass of water in front of him. He takes a sip and shakes his head. Then he throws the cup across the room.
It shatters against the wall, and glass explodes everywhere.
I flinch, watching him move. I need to calm him down somehow, but tears are falling down my cheeks, and my vision’s blurry.
I try to swallow it back, keeping myself grounded.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I really don’t know them. I keep telling them to leave me alone.”
He starts pacing.
Back and forth.
The look on his face is twisted.
Back and forth.
“I’ve told you so many times, Lily. I told you… absolutely no boys.”
“I know,” I agree.
“Andhockey players?”
I wince. “Dad, I promise you I’m telling the truth.”
“How can I trust you when you’re doing all these things behind my back? You bring your friends here without my permission. Why?”
I’m shaking, hating how controlling he is. I hate how small he makes me feel.
This is why Mom left.
The thought hits me like a punch.
She couldn’t breathe without being accused of something insane, just like I am right now.
“Dad, can we talk in the morning?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Why? So you can come up with more lies? Give me your phone.”
I hand it over, trembling.
He scrolls through it. Message after message. Contact after contact. Finding it clean.
“I don’t know them, Dad. I swear.”
“You keep lying.” His voice is getting louder. “Why do you keep lying?”
“I’m not.”
“Lily!” he screams.
I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter. Tears stream down my face.
“I’m not, Dad,” I whisper.
“Why do they camp outside our house every night?” He blinks and stares at me. “Hmm?”
My stomach drops. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
