Page 56 of You're To Blame 2

I peeked up at him. “I’ve been expelled. That bitch pulled my hair, all I did was twist her nipple, so she’d release my hair.”

Tate chuckled.

“What else could I do? She is after all carrying a baby.”

“Come on and eat.”

“My dad ordered me home.”

Tate sat me on his lap and placed a potato chip in my mouth. “I wish we didn’t have to leave. But I probably should pick up Lake your new boyfriend.”

I threw my head back in laughter.

“I’ll take you home after I make love to you a second and a third time.” Tate pecked my lips.

“Not sure when we’ll be together again.” He dropped his forehead against mine.

I caressed his face. “You know we have to break up tonight?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

∞

I laid on the sofa staring at my father’s lips. They moved a hundred miles a minute. He gestured several times to the house across the street. Not sure why. Mom, already called on her break between surgeries tearing me a new asshole. I think it was obvious I’d never been kicked out of school before.

“God, Dad. What was I supposed to do not defend myself? Then I exited the classroom and who was waiting for me? Mason.” I sat on the edge of the sofa.

“He’s evil. He wants me to be a broken shell. It won’t happen.”

Dad slipped his fingers through his blond hair and sat beside me. “I am proud of you for sticking up for yourself. Do you want to complete the semester in Texas?”

My eyes widened. “No.” Tate would surely lose it if I moved out of state without him. The plan was for us to move together.

The doorbell chimed.

My heart plummeted to my feet. “I’ll get it.”

Tate and I were settling into our lives again and now we had to break up. I felt sick to my stomach. Grabbing the door knob, I swung the door open. “Come in, Tate.”

“What was so urgent that I had to rush right over?”

He closed the door behind him and stalked toward me.

“Tate, we’re over.”

He chuckled. “No, we’re not. We were just together earlier. What happened?”

“All those pictures of you hooking up with other girls. We haven’t even been home a month, Tate.” I cried.

“What the hell,” dad roared from behind.

He darted past me. “Get out, Tate.”

“Sir, I did nothing wrong.” He widened his arms.

“I haven’t been with another girl.”

“Tate, there’s proof. Just go. I never want to see you again.” My fists slammed into his broad chest.

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