I was sprawled across my bed, waiting. Sweating.
Dad was home. “I’m upstairs,” I called.
“Fantastic. I suggest you get DOWNSTAIRS. NOW!”
I swallowed hard and climbed to my knees. Getting in a fight was bad enough. But ditching my ride(my father) to ride home with the reason for my fight was pretty stupid.
I took the walk of shame down the wooden staircase. My dad looked furious.
“So nice of you to make an appearance, beautiful daughter.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.
“Stop,” he said, holding up his hand. “I’m tired. I had to leave work early. Just answer me this.” He took a deep breath. “Did you win the fight?”
“No. She sort of kicked my ass.”
He shook his head. “Then I’ve taught you nothing.” My father slapped his hand on my shoulder. “Here’s the deal, Stella. No phone. No television. And absolutely, positively, NO BOYS.”
“Agreed,” I said. Well, at least the no boys part. The phone loss was going a bit overboard.
“Good. Now to start this punishment off, how about you fix dinner?”
“You are a tyrant,” I said and led us toward the kitchen. But just as we got in there, the phone began to ring. I looked at my dad.
“Get it.” He held up his finger in warning. “But only to tell them that they aren’t allowed to call the house for at least a week.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled, crossing to the phone. “Hello.”
I paused. It was a guy. And not Conner. “Who is this?”
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s Becker. Do… do you hate me?”
My stomach flipped. Hot college guy calling me on the phone to ask me if I hated him? Yeah. This happened every day.
“Of course I don't hate you,” I said. “Why would I?”
I swear I heard him gulp. “Because I’m the one that told everyone about you and Conner.”