Filed to story: Brace Face Betty Drama Story
I’m slipping into my bedroom when I hear him yell up the stairs after me. “But I love you, too, sweetheart!”
* * *
Mom and Max get back from the movies around five. I don’t go down for dinner. I just…I can’t force myself to convincingly sit there and pretend. I would fail. Snap at her or something, and Dad would lose his shit. No way would he be okay with me giving Mom attitude when, as far as he’s concerned, she’s grieving over the death of her best fucking friend.
If I’m being fair, she is grieving over her friend. She’s just also feeling guilty as fuck because she feels responsible for the accident that killed Gail, and she’s been revealed to be an adulterous monster at the same time. I can appreciate what a head fuck that must be at least.
She goes to bed ridiculously early, shutting herself away in their bedroom. At nine, I head downstairs and knock on Dad’s office door, knowing he’ll still be at his desk, working hard.
“Enter at your own peril,” he calls.
Inside his office, he rubs at his eyes, the light from his computer screen casting a blue glow over his face. “Feeling better, kiddo?” he asks.
“Mostly.”
“Well, if you want money, it had better be for something good. Beer. A handgun. A brick of coke.”
He’s joking, because he trusts me implicitly, and he knows I’d never have anything to do with illegal firearms or hard drugs. Shame cuts at me, a cold, unforgiving knife under my skin. I’m exactly the good girl he believes me to be now, but that hasn’t always been the case. Far from it. He’d have a heart attack if he had any idea the shit I used to get roped into with Kacey. “I don’t need money, Dad. My savings account is looking pretty healthy as a matter of fact. I wanted to ask for something else.”
He peers at me, sitting back in his chair. “Sounds ominous.”
“I want to go spend the night at Marcus’s place.” I blush furiously as soon as the words are out. God, this was a bad idea. What the hell was I thinking, blurting it out like that? My father looks like he’s having trouble swallowing.
“I’m sorry?
Marcus? Your guitar student? The one with the motorcycle and all the prison ink?”
“It’s not priso-never mind. Yes, the guy who came here the other day. He and I…we’re together now.”
“Aaaand…” He shakes his head, puffing out his cheeks. “You tell me this on the back of a request to go and spend the night at his house?”
“Yes. I know. I’m insane.”
He laughs, but I can tell he’s uneasy. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“Not long. A few days.”
“God, Betty. Come on, what do you expect me to do here? You really think I’m going to agree t-“
“He lives at Salton Ash Park. By himself. In a trailer.”
“Jesus fucking-“
“He’s had a couple of run-ins with the law. But nothing bad. Nothing terrible.”
“Betty, if you are trying to make your request sound any less crazy, then you are heading in the wroooong direction.”
“Just laying all the cards on the table, Dad. Giving you all the information, no matter how damaging, seems like the smartest option. It’s a radical approach, I’m aware. I’m just hoping you’ll appreciate the honesty and trust that I know what I’m doing.”
He gives me a troubled, torn look, bordering on annoyance. “Fuck, Betty. Can’t you just lie to me like any normal teenager? Ignorance is bliss sometimes.”
This hits me like a ten-ton weight.
Ignorance is bliss sometimes. Would he still say that if he knew what Mom’s been up to? I have no idea. Am I so candid with him now because I’ve forced Mom to lie to him and I’m feeling guilty as fuck, though? Absolutely, one hundred percent, yes.
“Seemed like I owed you an honest explanation,” I murmur.
“And if I say no? Are you gonna be plotting some great escape and clambering down the trellis at three in the morning? ‘Cause I don’t wanna have to worry about setting up some makeshift perimeter alarm this late in the evening.”