Page 88 of The Pretender

Uncle Mason won’t letmy dad go all Hulk-like when he gets here and finds out I spent the weekend with a boy. I might be nineteen and a grown woman, but my dad gives zero shits about my age. To him, I will always be his little girl.

Dad: Don’t you move until I get there.

As scary asmy Dad is when he’s mad, for some reason, it’s a lot better than riding home with Sebastian, who basically just told me it was all over and to pack my shit, so we can go home and go back to being enemies.

No thank you. I’d rather my dad yell at me and then hug me before he feels bad and takes me out for tacos and ice cream. My mother broke him in well.

“Vee! Let’s go!”

At Sebastian’s angry roar, I come out of my room and hover in the doorway of the guest room. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while.”

Sebastian’s hair is a mess, like he’s been raking his hands in it. “You want to stay?”

I nod. “I think you might need time to cool off.”

I think that may not have been what he wanted to hear since he shakes his head and huffs. “Fine. I’ll see you around.” He shoves the rest of his clothes in his bag and pushes past me.

I try not to take it personally. Winning this competition was his way out. This was his fresh start away from his family, where he wasn’t the failed son and stem cell supplier. I don’t believe his family truly feels that way about him, but he does, and I know it’s harder to believe others when you don’t believe it yourself.

The front door slams, and I know it’s the last time I’ll see my friend.

* * *

The car ride was…awkward, but I did get my hug and really, that’s all that mattered.

“Go ahead, Dr. Parker. Ask me all the embarrassing questions.”

My dad smiles, when I mention his friend, Dr. Parker, who is, in fact, an audiologist who got my dad through some hard times in his life. Apparently, they became good friends and now my mom and Dr. Parker work together and run a community outreach program for the deaf in my hometown. But unlike the real Dr. Parker, my dad likes to play dirty.

“How long are you going to hold my tacos hostage?” Yeah, the man pulled into my favorite restaurant, ordered my favorite combo and then refused to hand them over. He’s not even ashamed about it. What can I say? The man knows the way to my secrets.

“Is this about that boy at school?” He motions to his phone in the cup holder. “The one you have those wars with?”

I look at the man who let me put his hair in a bow and who swung me around like I was weightless more times than I can count. “How do you know about the wars? Please don’t tell me you and Mom have been watching them.” I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Some of those videos were pretty racy. My father may hug me, but my mom will kill me. She’s the real crazy in our house. We love her anyway, though.

My dad grins. “Just because you aren’t down the hall anymore doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on with my daughter. It’s my job to protect you. My contract didn’t end when you turned eighteen.”

I narrow my eyes. I smell a rat. “You paid Drew to spy on me, didn’t you?” That little shithead.

He chuckles low in his throat, the same sound I remember when I would lay in the crook of his arm when he sang me to sleep. “Please, I didn’t have to bribe Drew. He watches you for free. In full disclosure, though, I know about the wars because your uncle Pe likes to overshare.” He shakes his head. “MyView, apparently, is one of his favorite sites. All I asked him is if you were behaving.”

Eww. I hope Uncle Pe wasn’t truthful.

I wait for my dad to scold me, to give me that disappointed look. When he doesn’t, I offer the truth. “I’ve been behaving. I mostly do makeup tutorials but this war…” I swallow, thinking about how much I actually want to disclose. “The wars with Sebastian just happened and then,” I look down at my hands, knotting them together, “and then it just grew into something more. When the competition came along, I entered, but I wasn’t eligible. Joining forces with Sebastian was the only chance I had at winning and getting noticed by possible studios.”

I don’t know why I feel like I’m justifying why I entered some silly contest. “It was stupid, I know. And now, here I am, having essentially lost, and wasted valuable time when I could have been doing more tutorials and getting noticed the right way.”

My dad shifts in the seat and leans back, handing me one chip as a reward for playing nice. “And what would have been the right way?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Keeping my head down and in my studies?”

He raises a brow. “Are you failing?”

“No.”

“Have you dropped any classes or fallen behind?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

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