“Well, if you wanna know, I’ll tell you,” I begin and swallow hard.

She nods, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

“I’m not sure how much Brandon told you about me, but my dad’s a state senator.”

Lennon’s eyes widen as the realization hits. “Oh my God. Harris Manning. I never put two and two together.”

I’m impressed she knows him by name, considering anyone else I’ve told had no clue.

“I can’t believe that’s your dad. How cool.”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Oh. Sorry. Not a good relationship, huh?”

“Nope. He’s been in politics my whole life. Started on the city council, then ran and won for mayor of Sacramento, then worked his way up to attorney general, then lieutenant governor of California, and now he’s a senator. He’s always picked his career over his family, yet still had time to pressure my brother, Hayden, and me into playing football all through middle and high school and then college.”

“I thought you loved playing football?”

“Didn’t have a choice. I grew to like it eventually. Mostly because I was able to channel my anger for him through sacking other people.” I half-laugh, but it’s true. I put all my rage into the sport.

“So you didn’t have a good relationship because of all that?”

“Wasn’t just that.” I inhale, thinking about how much I want to share. Deciding to say fuck it, I tell her the truth. “He had an affair for years, and the media found out. His money covered it up mostly, then he put on this whole charade about having the perfect happy family. Two sons who played football. A loyal wife. He sold himself as a family man to get reelected over and over, and as ridiculous as it was, it worked. I hated him for it. I hated how people fell for it too.”

“Oh God.” She sucks in a breath, her gaze never wavering from mine. “That’s awful. How could he do that?”

“Because he’s corrupted by money and his career. I was so pissed when I found out what he did to my mother, but she didn’t leave. I still don’t know why she stayed or continues to. I love her, but I wish she’d get out.”

“Maybe she feels like she has no choice,” she suggests with a half-shrug. “A lot of women feel that way, especially when the man is the breadwinner. Maybe she didn’t want you and Hayden to have a broken home. Did you ever ask her?”

“I did after the media released it. She told me it was a misunderstanding. Clearly, she was in denial.” I groan, remembering it so clearly. “I knew there was no fucking way. There were pictures.”

“Eww.” Lennon scrunches her nose. “Did your dad ever talk to you boys about it or anything?”

“Nah. He’d have to man up and admit what he did to talk to us. It was swept under the rug like it never happened. He came downstairs for breakfast, talked to us about football and school, then went about his day. Made me so goddamn pissed. That’s when the fights started.”

“With who?”

I shrug, thinking back to my middle and high school days. “Anyone and everyone. In middle school, they’d pick on me for being from a wealthy family, though I never felt that way, and called me a rich snob. They thought since my dad was in politics, it would be fun to mess with me. After a while, I had enough of it and started pushing back. When words weren’t enough to get them to back off, I used my fists. In high school, other team players who got in my face about my dad’s reputation got tackled to the ground even when they weren’t my targets. They all thought I’d do nothing and assumed I wouldn’t be able to because of my last name, but they were wrong because I didn’t care. I didn’t want any part of his campaigns or his life. So instead of dealing with it through words, I fought people to get my feelings out.”

“Wow…” she says, and I realize I probably rambled off way too much information. “I can understand that.”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh. “Well, you’d be the first one then.”

“It was your form of rebellion and releasing pent-up anger you didn’t know how to express. I mean, I sorta did the same thing.”

“You?”

“Yeah! I dated a guy my freshman year in college. He was my first real boyfriend since my parents were too damn strict to allow me to date in high school. It was a toxic relationship, to say the least, but I didn’t know any better. He used me as an emotional punching bag, and for a long time, I let him. I thought that’s what love felt like. But then I saw my friends in these loving relationships, and their boyfriends were so sweet and caring. I started wondering what was wrong with me because mine wasn’t like that. It finally hit me that it wasn’tme, it was him, and I got so mad. One day, I found out he was messing around with three other girls, and I felt so filthy. I’d let him be my first everything, and I stupidly trusted him. Everything he’d done to me in the past on top of his cheating made me want revenge. I didn’t want to just break up with him. I wanted him to feel the same kind of pain he’d caused me.”

“I’m kinda scared to ask what you did, Lennon.” I blow out a laugh.

“Well, we were at a huge party with all our friends one night. When it was nice and packed, I told him to come stand in the middle of the room with me. I stood on a chair, told everyone to be quiet, then said ‘Malcolm, you sorry, cheating piece of shit. I’m done with you, with how you treat me, and your three-inch dick. It’snotaverage. So you can fuck off because I’m done.’ Then I jumped off the chair, grabbed a cup of beer, and?—”

“Please tell me you dumped it over his head?” I ask with amusement.

“Hell yeah, I did!” She chuckles. “He deserved it too. But anyway, I’d never done anything like that in my entire life. I’d never done anything to grant me extra attention or make a scene before that. However, it was the realization as to what he’d been doing to me, using me, for all those months that finally struck a nerve. I was ready to fight back.”