Page 15 of Pretty Broken Things

He hands her a controller, and just like that, the last member of our group has accepted Tessa. Honestly, I thought it was going to be a much harder sell, but she’s actually letting them see the side of her I saw the other night.

* * *

After a few hoursof kicking back and being normal teenagers, the time for us to go home arrives, whether we’re ready or not. I am certainly not ready to go home to find my parents gone, or worse find them fighting. Assuming my mom has bothered to come home at all that is.

Shane abandons us first to go join his grandfather and work on his car. Lydia cares for her younger sister when her mom works nights at a diner in Playa, so she takes off with Ted who is still anxious around Tessa. I can tell Tracy is wanting to get me alone, and normally I would be all for spending some time with her, but I feel off. I’m not a relationship guy, and it feels like the dynamic between us is changing.

If someone asked me a week ago, or hell a few days ago, I’d have said there was a better chance of winning the lottery than for Tracy to develop feelings for me. The way she’s been looking at me lately though makes me nervous. The last thing I want to do is hurt my friend. I know that our extracurricular activities muddy the waters between us, but until now I thought we prevented that.

I’m not proud of myself, but the only thing I can think of is to avoid the entire situation. “Trace, why don’t you go ahead and take my truck home.”

Her mouth falls open, but she doesn’t miss my keys when I toss them to her. “What? You only live a couple blocks from me, why don’t you just take me home?”

“I want to go with Tessa and see if I can catch my mom over at her place. I need to see it for myself and confront her.” When the words formed in my head I thought I was constructing an excuse to appease Tracy, but as the words come out of my mouth, I realize it’s true.

She puts her hand on my arm. “Be careful, Ford, there are some questions that once asked can never be forgotten. Make sure you really want to face the truth here.” Her hand slips off, and drops down to her side. “Perhaps I should follow my own advice.”

Tracy takes off in my truck, leaving an awkward silence in her absence.

Tessa blows out a breath. “So what are we actually doing?”

“What I told Tracy. I don’t agree I should talk my mom into going back to my dad—”

She holds up her hand. “I was wrong to demand that. No, actually, I was ignorant. I’ve felt sorry for myself for way too long. It was too easy to think my problems were so big, because they were all I could see. But, listening to Tracy and Lydia talk, I realize that I was privileged even in my pain. You need to get out of that house. It’s not safe for you there.”

“I know how to survive in my world.”

“You should be doing more than surviving. Promise me you’ll thrive someday,” she insists. I can hear the emotion in her voice, and it makes me tense.

“Does that mean you’ll let me drive your car?” I waggle my eyebrows and try to lighten the mood.

She rolls her eyes. “I know what you’re doing, but I’ll let it pass.” Tessa tosses me her keys. “This isn’t exactly what I meant when I said you should thrive, but I suppose it’s a good start.”

Tessa shouts in excitement as I pull onto the highway and step on the gas. We might be heading straight into a giant clusterfuck, but for just a minute we’re reveling in being young.

Jefferson Park and Ocean Bluff might be worlds apart socioeconomically, but the actual distance is only about five miles. Tessa lives on the opposite side of town in a gated community. With a moderate amount of traffic, we’re pulling into her driveway only half an hour after leaving the McKinnick’s house.

We’re the only ones here, despite it being close to seven at night. “Does your dad ever come home?”

I can’t see her eyes through her sunglasses, but I don’t miss the way her body tenses. “He’s had an apartment close to his office in Playa for the last few years. It’s stupid, because it doesn’t take more than forty-five minutes to make the drive, but apparently that cuts too much into his work time.”

My eyebrows draw together as I shut off the car and turn to face her fully. “The other night when I stopped by you seemed like you expected someone else to come here.”

She nods. “He promised to come home at least on the weekends. He had the weekend before, and I thought since school was starting…” she trails off.

“You thought he’d come home that weekend,” I supply.

She turns her head away from me, but I can see by the tight set of her shoulders how hard she’s trying not to cry. “It’s senior year. I’m going to graduate and move out in just nine months. I guess I just hoped he’d want to spend time with me before it was too late.”

“You’ve been living here by yourself for how long now?” I turn off the car, and settle back to give her my full attention.

“A couple of months after my sixteenth birthday. Basically, as soon as I could drive. He might not have abandoned me like my mom. I do see him for dinner once a month, but for the most part he lives his life, and I live mine. Constance, our housekeeper, checks up on me, leaves me dinner, and handles the running of the house, but otherwise I’m usually here alone.”

“My abuse might take the form of bruises, but neglect is abuse too,” I tell her gently.

She lifts her glasses and wipes under her eyes. “Yeah, well, no one is going to cry for the poor little rich girl, right?”

“We don’t want their tears, or their pity. Face facts, you’re one of us, not one of them.”

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