Page 24 of Race to Me

Dad takes a threatening step forward, and I stay put, waiting. He tries his hand at talking, “Don’t embarrass the family name, Skyler. You can’t be friends with people like that.”

I’m in shock, but I shouldn’t be. They’ve always been this way: judgmental. “People like that? He tried shaking your hand.”

Mom chimes in, interrupting whatever he was going to say. “She busted through the door with her legs wrapped around him!”

My cheeks redden, both in anger and embarrassment. “I’m an adult!”

“Enough!” Dad booms. “You’re grounded. We’re leaving tomorrow, and I’ll make sure the maid is here to watch you.”Her name is Rita.

Mom grabs a glass, pouring herself some liquor from a nearby decanter to cool down. “Thank God our flight got delayed or you would be making a terrible mistake right now.”

When the room goes silent, I ask, “When will you be back?”

Mom looks to Dad, thinking. “We were going to be gone until Friday morning, but now coming back Sunday sounds better, right honey?” She looks to him, he agrees.Seriously?

“You’re really going to miss my birthday, again?”

“Cut the attitude. You don’t deserve to have us here. What were you thinking bringing that into our home? What if someone saw?”

The way he called Foster ‘that’ does something inside of me, and rage boils through my blood. “Oh! What if someone saw us not being picture perfect?” I’m screaming now, and my throat burns.

Dad’s finger flies in front of my face. “Don’t push your fucking luck, Skyler.”

“You wouldn’t have cared if it was Warren.”

The way that they stare at me with no response answers that question for me. They leave, and I run to my room, slamming the door.

Things didn’t escalate, and I think that’s because for the first time in my life, I raised my voice.

∞∞∞

I dive onto my bed, and my face landing on the sleek silk pillowcase does nothing to comfort me as tears stream down my cheeks.

Until a sound breaks my angry, saddened tears.

A tick, then another—no, a ping.

I walk to my window and push the curtains open to find Foster standing below, chucking pebbles at my window.

I smile brightly as I open it up. “How did you know this was my room?”

He points towards me. “Pink curtains,” Then, he looks serious. “Who’s Warren?”

I laugh, wiping away a tear. I don’t need to be too quiet, but I’m scared to risk it. My parents controlled their hostility with me tonight, but I don’t want them to catch us again. Their wing is the opposite of my room, though, so we should be fine. “All of that and you’re worried about some guy?”

He looks so boyish, standing near the garden below me with his hands in his pockets. “Should I be worried?”

“Warren Hollingsworth, my parent’s dream guy for me.” I shrug.

Foster laughs, doubling over. “What kind of fucking name is Hollingsworth?”

The name always makes me laugh, too. “His family owns the country club on Willow.” He starts to speak, but I already know what he’s going to say. “And no, I don’t have teatime with him.”

He places a hand over his heart, feigning shock. “Not even on Sundays?”

This moment with him has cooled down every bit of anger I felt for my parents. I understand it was an awkward situation for them to see, but we’re all adults, and they should have been nicer to him. So quietly that I almost didn’t catch it he asks, “Is he your dream guy?”

I shake my head slowly. Foster nods, a smile creeping up his face.

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