Page 40 of The Moment I Knew

“Yeah,” I mumbled, not taking my eyes off Dad. It was a lie, but I was more focused on convincing my dad to stay here like he promised. She walked over to him and smoothed his tie, like it was hers to fix. I gritted my teeth at the sight.

“You’re going to be late,” she said. “Again.”

“I know,” he said, smiling at her. “I owe you.”

She kissed him, quick and practiced. “You always do.”

Something in my throat went tight. He grabbed his keys and turned to me. A look crossed his face, then he was reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, unfolding bills from it. I watched in a daze as he folded two crisp $100 bills and pressed them into my hand like that made up for him bailing on me again.

“Why don’t you and Hilary do something together and I’ll meet you after this meeting? Go shopping. Get your nails done again. Whatever you want. On me.” Then he bent down to kiss the top of my head, but he barely even brushed my hair before he was moving again. “I’ll text you,” he said. And then he was out the door before I could respond. The lock clicked and his footsteps faded down the stairs.

Hilary poured herself coffee and leaned against the counter. “He really did want to take you out,” she said. “Work’s just crazy right now.”

I stared at the closed door, the bills crinkling in my hand as I clenched my fingers into a fist. “He promised.”

“Adults have responsibilities.” She glanced at the clock. “You hungry? I can make you something.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

She frowned. “You shouldn’t skip breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

I thought of my dad in his car, already halfway to whatever meeting he’d decided he needed to be at more than here.

“I said I’m fine,” I repeated.

“You know what!” Hilary snapped, tossing her hands up like she’d just solved a crisis. “Why don’t we go out for breakfast?”

I froze. “What⁠—”

“I saw a receipt for that coffee shop on your bag last night. What was it called? The Corner Cup?”

“You went through my stuff?” I burst, my voice sharper than I meant.

“Oh, Imogen,” she said, waving a hand like I’d said something trivial. “I looked it up and it seems really cute. Why don’t we go together, make a morning of it?”

I clenched my jaw. “Actually, I was thinking I’ll just head home early if Dad’s gone. I have a lot of homework this weekend and⁠—”

“No, no,” she said, already moving toward the bedroom. “You need to enjoy your day off from school, not spend it doing homework! You’re coming with me.”

“I appreciate the offer but⁠—”

“Jump in the shower,” she said, cutting me off. “And wash your hair. It looks a little greasy.”

“Excuse me?”

She turned back around, looking at me with an overly sympathetic expression. “I’m just looking out for you. Girls need to help each other out, right? Now get in the shower before it gets any later in the morning!”

“But I⁠—”

“Go, go!” she said, practically shoving me toward the bathroom. I sighed and decided to just listen because she clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer.

By the time I stepped back into the bedroom ten minutes later, a fuzzy pink bath towel wrapped tightly around me, Hilary had laid out an entire outfit on the bed like I was a toddler: jeans, top, jacket, shoes, matching scarf. She’d even put a necklace out.

“Get dressed, do your makeup and then we’ll head out!” she called from down the hall. I slammed the door shut—to hell with her “no closed doors” policy—and leaned against it, taking some deep breaths. I could spend an hour with her. I think. I could stomach her presence for that long until Dad met with us.

By the time we reached the car, I felt like I’d been run through a blender. I slumped into the passenger seat. Hilary buckled her seatbelt and turned to me with that bright, triumphant smile.

“This will be so much fun!” she promised me.