“You didn’t.”
He looks relieved. “What about in the future? If we keep doing this, then things might come up—things we didn’t plan on. We should know where the line is. Or have a code or something so we know when the other person isn’t comfortable.”
My cheeks flush. “Like…a safe word?”
He chokes on his bite of pizza. Our eyes lock and we start laughing.
“Whoa, that escalated quickly,” he says, and coughs out another laugh. “Not a word, that would be too obvious. And weird.”
“How about we pinch each other?” I grin and reach over and pinch his forearm.
“Oww! Not that hard!” He rubs his arm. “I’m already regretting this, but fine. As long as you don’t pinch hard enough to draw blood.”
Chapter Eleven
To my surprise, Mom is in the parking lot Tuesday to pick me up, looking like she’s just walked off a fall photo shoot. Her hair now has a reddish tinge and she’s only wearing makeup and clothes with a “warm autumn palette” until December. If she could walk around holding a pumpkin, she would.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask as I climb into the SUV.
“He got caught up at the store and asked if I could swing by. How was school?”
“It was fine.” I pause and then smile at the music filling the car. “Back to listening to this again?”
“Time doesn’t diminish quality.”
Mom and I spent a good six months listening to theHamiltonsoundtrack on a loop when I was in elementary school. In fact, we almost always have a soundtrack playing when we drive places. I try to remember if we did that whenDad was in the car with us, but I don’t think so. It was always a special thing we saved for the two of us.
The knowledge gives me a twinge of guilt, which is weird. I’ve never felt guilty about leaving Dad out before.
I glance over at Mom. “Did you know Dad has been telling people at the store about my theater performances?”
She raises an eyebrow. “How could I possibly know that?”
“Right. It’s just…isn’t that weird? I didn’t think he cared.”
“Well”—she hesitates—“he doesn’t love theater the way we do, but he does love you. Maybe he wanted to show off a bit about his talented daughter. I know I do.” She pats my leg fondly.
I take a breath, thinking of how happy he’s been at the store. You’d think I wasn’t there as a punishment at all, the way he smiles at me and bustles around checking on me and asking how I am. It’s not that he’s unhappy when I stay with him on weekends, but there’s always underlying tension, like we don’t know how to be around each other. Being at the store with him is the first time we’ve been together doing something he actually likes and knows about.
“Maybe you should ask him,” Mom continues. “You should have a good relationship with your dad. I know we haven’t always made things easy on you since the divorce…thatIhaven’t made it easy. It’s hard to share you.” She looks over and gives me a smile. “But maybe this time at the store will give you the chance to get to know him better.”
“Okay. Maybe I will.”
“But I’m not giving up our musical movie nights. We’redue for another this Thursday. Maybe aHamiltonrewatch is in order?”
“Yes!” I agree, and turn up the volume. We sing along to “Wait for It” and then I think of something else I’ve been meaning to bring up. “Soooo, homecoming is the first weekend in October.”
She raises an eyebrow. “What an interesting and random fact to mention out of the blue.”
“Mom,” I plead. “Do you think there’s any way I can stillgo? I know I’m in trouble, but you wouldn’t want to deprive me of such a time-honored American tradition, would you?”
She shakes her head and groans. “You can do better than that.”
“Hoshiko and I always go together. It’s just one night.”
“I don’t know, Riley. You’re supposed to be learning a lesson with this punishment. If we give you everything you want, then what’s the point?”
“But I am learning my lesson. I’ve already learned it.” I lean my head against her arm, which is maybe dangerous since she’s driving, but I need to suck up to her. “Will you at least think about it?”