Page 16 of Better Hide

Dad’s going to kill me. My adrenaline mounts.

I stand up, moving over to the machine. It’s still running while upside down. I glance over my shoulder at the house. Mom can see me from the front window. I wish she’d pay attention to me. Just this once. Maybe she’d be all worried about me. Ask if I was hurt. Bustle around me like a mother hen, put a bandaid on my scrapes, and kiss my forehead.

Yeah, I’m being stupid.

I try to flip the ATV back over, but eventually, I flop down, my arms and legs shaking and sweat rolling down me. I skinned up my hands and right shoulder, but otherwise, I’m fine. The sunis getting lower in the sky when I hear my dad driving down the road.

I wait for him. Flipping the ATV made me feel alive for a second, but it’s already starting to fade. I need more.

The car stops, and a door slams. “Mary!”

I get to my feet.

“Mary!” Dad runs up, grabbing me by the shoulders and picking me up. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine.”

Dad checks me all over. “What the hell happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay!” I yank away from him.

Dad steps back, looking over the ATV. He runs his hands through his hair. “Mary. I told you not to drive this while I was gone!”

He did tell me that. But I wanted to feel the wind in my hair. To do something that made me feel alive. Plus, he rarely pays attention to what I do anyway. No one does. Until I fuck up.

Dad looks the ATV over. “Fuck. You fucked it up.”

A slight grin tugs at my mouth, and that confuses me. This is bad. Wrong. I flipped the ATV, and he’s mad.

But he’s here. He’s saying more than a distracted: how’s school? And how’re those grades? A mix of emotions fills me, but none of them are loneliness.

Dad glances over at me. Before I can duck, his hand hits my face so hard it jerks me to the side. Pain explodes up my cheek, and I want to throw up.

I suck in a breath. Dad has never hit me before.

“Don’t smirk at me. And never disobey me.”

I blink the tears out of my eyes as rage fills me. I grin, shaking my arms out. Electricity runs through them. Alive. I feel fucking alive.

I whirl on my dad, striking out before he can hit me again, hitting any part of him I can reach. Exhilaration runs through me. He’s going to fucking kill me.

Strong hands grab me, holding my arms still. Dad shakes me, snapping my head back and forth, then brings me up to his face.

“Why do you always fucking disobey?”

“Fuck you,” I spit.

Dad shakes me again so hard I get dizzy. My world spins.

Dad sets me down on my feet so hard my stomach jars.

“Brat. You’re such a fucking brat.” He steps away from me and runs a hand through his hair.

I taste blood, but I’ve never felt more alive. Dad sees me. I’m a brat, but he sees me.

I heave for breath, and Dad puts his hands on his knees, also gasping.

I straighten. I’m a good driver. I spent years practicing, learning tricks with no one to show them to. I hate to admit it, but I wanted Dad to get off his damn phone and pay attention to me. But he never does. Unless I’m in trouble.

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