Page 159 of Mad Girl

Nic shrugged, hands propped on his hips. “We knew this would happen eventually, right?”

“But how are you so calm about it?” John demanded, staring hard at my dad.

Nic closed his eyes. Sighed. Wiped a hand down his face. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

“That’s what I thought.” John tilted his head to the side. “Tell me, Nic. When did it start?”

It took Nic a good thirty seconds to answer that question. “The end of last summer.”

Michael and I exchanged a look of both surprise and confusion over the coffee table. All this time, my dad had known we’d hooked up?

“You kept this from me?” John asked. “From us?”

“I know,” Nic whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other,” John said, and I remember thinking that was a really odd thing for one man to say to another, despite what great friends they were. Then again, Libby had said it, too: “The three of us don’t keep secrets from each other.”

Nic looked guilty as hell as he gazed back at John. It was obvious—to me, at least—that Nic was thinking about your secret.

“This is done,” John said, waving his hand between us. “It ends right now.”

“But I love her,” Michael said.

“Sorry, son. But the answer’s no.”

“I don’t remember ever asking for your permission,” Michael snapped.

“Oh, that’s funny,” John said, but he laughed like someone who wasn’t amused at all. “You think because you’re in college now, and you live on your own, you can stop doing what I say? You forget who pays for that nice apartment of yours—who pays for your tuition, and your credit cards, and all your fucking bills. So, yes, you do need my permission. You need Nic’s, too—and we’re both saying no. There are hundreds of eligible girls in this city for you to date, but this one’s off limits.” John jabbed his finger at me. “This one’s a hard no.”

I flinched as if he’d socked me in the stomach. Worse—in the heart. It was one thing for me to say I wasn’t good for Michael, but for John to do it? In such a harsh way? He couldn’t leave it at no. He had to make it a hard no. Tears pricked my eyes. “Seriously, John? You don’t speak for my dad. He hasn’t said no to anything.”

“Elliot,” Nic said. “Of course I’m saying no to this.”

“Why?” Michael asked. “Give me one good reason.”

“You don’t belong together, son,” Nic said. “It’s as simple as that.”

“I disagree,” Michael snapped.

“Doesn’t matter,” John said. “This isn’t up for discussion. It’s over whether you agree or not.”

“See, Michael?” I said. “I’m not good enough for you.”

“You’re not good for each other,” John claimed.

“Again,” Michael said, “I disagree. And if we really want to be together? You can’t stop us.”

Both of our dads laughed at that.

My dad said, “Yeah? Watch me.”

“You might not be able to see it now, son,” John added. “But this is for the best.”

I felt so much more than rage. It was hurt, deeper and more painful than any pain I could inflict on myself. It was the startling realization I’d been lied to—by one of the people I trusted most in this world. You’re not bad. But John didn’t think I was good, either. Not good for his son. A hard no.

“Fuck you, John,” I said.

Nic stepped forward. “Elliot, he’s right. Also: watch your mouth.”