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Authors: Lisa McMann
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swear.”
“Then why do you have to tell him something?”
I take a breath and go with the first thing I can come up with. “School project. We’re on a team. The teacher assigned us.”
He narrows his eyes, but I can tell he wants to believe me. “What class?”
“Psych,” I say. It’s almost not a lie.
“You stay away from that place,” he says once more.
“I will, Dad. I’m sorry.”
• • •
When I wake up Monday morning after a terrible night’s sleep, I fight off all the thoughts about what could still happen to Sawyer. I can’t deal with that right now.
All I can think about is that I did what I had to do. I warned him. And just because everything’s all turmoily, and my dad’s a messed-up freak, and the boy I L.O.V.E. probably thinks I belong in an asylum, doesn’t change the fact that I have now satisfied whatever weird business has been going on in my head, and I am now free. I yank open the curtains and look out at the windows across the street. None of them show me an explosion. I cross my fingers and hope it’s over.
I also hope Sawyer won’t tell the whole world what I said to him. But the chances of this? Zero.
And Dad’s just going to have to get over it.
• • •
Five insanely overdramatic things I heard Dad muttering to himself last night as he paced the hallway outside my room:
1. “You have betrayed the name of Demarco!” (Yo, Shakespeare, live in the now)
2. “Why couldn’t you just deliver the pizza to my dear friends?” (So you and Mrs. Rodriguez are hanging out now?)
3. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve fired the first shot!” (WTF?)
4. “No more deliveries for you. We’ll hire a boy.” (Oh, o -kay)
5. “Why do you want to break my heart?” (big sigh)
And now I’m grounded for two weeks, which is no big deal because I don’t go anywhere anyway. The worse punishment is that I’ve got to go to school and face the impending ridicule.
I brush my teeth and touch some pink gloss to my lips as Trey hangs on the other side of the bathroom door, waiting to get in, and I realize I’m the one who should be furious. After all, I bet Sawyer could have stopped his dad from calling my dad.
“He must think I’m a total nutball,” I murmur as I swipe a little raisin-colored eyeliner under my lower lashes.
“I totally do,” Trey says through the crack in the door. “Can you move it along? My hair needs clay before it dries like this. I practically have a ’fro.”
I open the door and he stumbles in over a new pile of magazines that surfaced since last night.
“You okay?” he asks. He got home during the muttering portion of my fight with Dad, and I’d filled him in on the rest, except of course for the real reason why I had to go see Sawyer. And I get the feeling Trey thinks there’s something relational going on between Sawyer and me . . . which I’m happy to go along with.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say in a low voice. “It’s just so stupid.” And the bigger part of me that can’t deal with the truth is crying out the thing I’m not quite ready toacknowledge. That even though I warned Sawyer, he could still die if he doesn’t do anything about what I told him.
Trey sculpts his hair expertly and whispers, “What’s a girl in love supposed to do? In the movies, she has to defy Daddy someday. Yesterday was your day. The first of many, I suppose.” He sighs. “And we’re all in for more yelling. Great.”
“No, I’m done with it. No more yelling.”
He washes his hands and looks at me in the mirror. “Yeah, right.”
“Really,” I say, putting my things in the drawer as Rowan bursts in and squeezes between us. “It’s not worth this. I’ll . . . just forget about him.”
“Forget about who?” she asks. She slept through the fight last night.
“Nobody,” Trey and I say together.
Rowan shoves my shoulder. “You guys are so mean. Move it. It’s my
“Then why do you have to tell him something?”
I take a breath and go with the first thing I can come up with. “School project. We’re on a team. The teacher assigned us.”
He narrows his eyes, but I can tell he wants to believe me. “What class?”
“Psych,” I say. It’s almost not a lie.
“You stay away from that place,” he says once more.
“I will, Dad. I’m sorry.”
• • •
When I wake up Monday morning after a terrible night’s sleep, I fight off all the thoughts about what could still happen to Sawyer. I can’t deal with that right now.
All I can think about is that I did what I had to do. I warned him. And just because everything’s all turmoily, and my dad’s a messed-up freak, and the boy I L.O.V.E. probably thinks I belong in an asylum, doesn’t change the fact that I have now satisfied whatever weird business has been going on in my head, and I am now free. I yank open the curtains and look out at the windows across the street. None of them show me an explosion. I cross my fingers and hope it’s over.
I also hope Sawyer won’t tell the whole world what I said to him. But the chances of this? Zero.
And Dad’s just going to have to get over it.
• • •
Five insanely overdramatic things I heard Dad muttering to himself last night as he paced the hallway outside my room:
1. “You have betrayed the name of Demarco!” (Yo, Shakespeare, live in the now)
2. “Why couldn’t you just deliver the pizza to my dear friends?” (So you and Mrs. Rodriguez are hanging out now?)
3. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve fired the first shot!” (WTF?)
4. “No more deliveries for you. We’ll hire a boy.” (Oh, o -kay)
5. “Why do you want to break my heart?” (big sigh)
And now I’m grounded for two weeks, which is no big deal because I don’t go anywhere anyway. The worse punishment is that I’ve got to go to school and face the impending ridicule.
I brush my teeth and touch some pink gloss to my lips as Trey hangs on the other side of the bathroom door, waiting to get in, and I realize I’m the one who should be furious. After all, I bet Sawyer could have stopped his dad from calling my dad.
“He must think I’m a total nutball,” I murmur as I swipe a little raisin-colored eyeliner under my lower lashes.
“I totally do,” Trey says through the crack in the door. “Can you move it along? My hair needs clay before it dries like this. I practically have a ’fro.”
I open the door and he stumbles in over a new pile of magazines that surfaced since last night.
“You okay?” he asks. He got home during the muttering portion of my fight with Dad, and I’d filled him in on the rest, except of course for the real reason why I had to go see Sawyer. And I get the feeling Trey thinks there’s something relational going on between Sawyer and me . . . which I’m happy to go along with.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say in a low voice. “It’s just so stupid.” And the bigger part of me that can’t deal with the truth is crying out the thing I’m not quite ready toacknowledge. That even though I warned Sawyer, he could still die if he doesn’t do anything about what I told him.
Trey sculpts his hair expertly and whispers, “What’s a girl in love supposed to do? In the movies, she has to defy Daddy someday. Yesterday was your day. The first of many, I suppose.” He sighs. “And we’re all in for more yelling. Great.”
“No, I’m done with it. No more yelling.”
He washes his hands and looks at me in the mirror. “Yeah, right.”
“Really,” I say, putting my things in the drawer as Rowan bursts in and squeezes between us. “It’s not worth this. I’ll . . . just forget about him.”
“Forget about who?” she asks. She slept through the fight last night.
“Nobody,” Trey and I say together.
Rowan shoves my shoulder. “You guys are so mean. Move it. It’s my
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