Page 52 of Rush

We don’t speak for a while. Our Diet Cokes are placed in front of us. Luke pays for them.

He’s waiting me out. Waiting for me to talk.

He doesn’t have to wait long. I fold like a cheap suit.

I let out a sigh. “I had a fight with my dad. A big one.”

“Okay. What about?”

I sigh again and tilt my chin in his direction, eyes looking at him. “Ares…the guy I told you about.”

“Your dad’s quarterback.”

“Mmhmm.”

“You know he’s been driving me to and from work after what happened with Kyle.”

“And I agree with Ares that you should consider getting a restraining order against Kyle and also that you should tell your dad.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Well, my dad doesn’t like me spending time with Ares.”

“Why? The guy’s a friend, right? And a positive influence, by the sound of it.”

“My dad doesn’t want me spending time with him…for Ares’s sake, not mine.”

“Oh.”

“He thinks it’ll be detrimental to Ares’s reputation—you know, the coach’s screwed up daughter hanging with the star quarterback. He doesn’t want the negative press. Not with the season about to start.”

“He said that?”

“In not so many words…but yeah. Then, I got angry and said some shitty things to him about my mom.”

“Were they true?”

I meet his steady green gaze. “Yes.”

“Then, don’t feel bad for saying them. You know that I think you should tell your dad how you feel about him not being there when you were younger, when you needed him. I’m not saying, if he’d been there, you wouldn’t have started drinking—no one can say that—but he let you down when you needed him most, Ari.”

“According to him, he was there when it mattered most—after the crash, when I hit rock bottom.”

“Putting a loved one in rehab and bailing their ass out isn’t being there. It’s doing something proactive and right to help them. But being there is about giving them your time and listening when they need it. Your dad doesn’t do that. In the past, with your mom, he ignored the problem because he didn’t know how to handle it, and he left you to deal with it. He couldn’t leave you to deal with this, and there was no one else to do it, so he’s had to step up, but he’s not doing enough. He should be doing more.”

My eyes are stinging with tears. I can’t speak because, if I do, they’ll spill over. I take a sip of Diet Coke and try to steady my emotions.

“Shall we get out of here?” Luke says.

I nod, and he slides off his stool. I pick up my bag and clamber down from mine.

My legs tremble as I follow him outside to his car, a sporty bright blue BMW.

He unlocks it, using the key fob, and I get in on the passenger side. He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

“Where am I taking you?” he asks me.

“We could hit up a club.” I give him a sad-looking grin, letting out an empty laugh. “Home,” I say quietly.

I don’t really want to go home to my empty apartment. But I don’t have anywhere else to go.