Page 45 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Take a shower and get dressed,” Ken said.
“But I haven’t eaten yet.”
“You can have breakfast afterwards.”
That was different. Ricky hurried through his morning rituals, deciding that nothing was worse than anticipation. Once he was downstairs, he’d be able to assess the damage and plead his case. Or so he thought. His father was the only person in the kitchen. A box of cereal and a gallon of milk were on the counter.
“Better eat up,” Ken said.
The rest of the house was silent. “Where’s Mom? Is she okay?”
“You’ll see her soon enough,” his father said. “Now eat.”
Anxiety gnawed at his stomach as he forced a bowl of cereal down. He kept checking the clock. Diego would arrive in ten minutes. Was that what they were waiting for? Was his mother out front with the police? He almost felt relieved when Ami finally appeared out of the master bedroom.
She only sparred a single glance at him as she gathered her things. “Get whatever you need for school,” she said. “I’ll drive you there.”
Ricky hesitated. “But Diego is—”
“Your father will speak with him,” she said tersely.
That was better than the cops. But not much. Ricky was tempted to stall, so he could be there when Diego showed up, but an impatient glare from his mother launched him into action. He was at the garage door and ready to go in two minutes flat.
Ami didn’t say anything as they got into the car and pulled out. Maybe she was waiting for him to speak.
“I’m really sorry, Mom,” he said.
She didn’t melt exactly, but at least she glanced at him. “I’m as much to blame as you are. My parents were strict. I wasn’t allowed to go on a single date during high school. I only went to Prom after my mother became a chaperone. I didn’t truly understand what sex was until I got brave enough to ask a doctor. So when I became a parent, I promised myself to give you the freedom I never had. And as much as I hate to admit it, I was wrong.”
“You’re weren’t!” Ricky assured her.
Ami was already shaking her head. “Look what’s happened since we moved here. First your suicide attempt—”
“That was because of Jeremiah, not you!”
“I’m the one who let you date that boy, despite how young you were. How young youstillare. A fourteen-year-old isn’t ready, emotionally or mentally, for the complications of an intimate relationship.”
“I’m about to turn fifteen!”
“And how old is Diego?” His mother shot back. “Because he has a driver’s license and a job. He’s isn’t really a freshman, is he?”
Ricky swallowed. “He was held back a year.”
“And this is who you’ve decided to spend your time with?”
“He’s a good person, Mom.”
“So good that he brings you cookies laced with drugs. I gave him that recipe, Ricky. The only reason I tried one is to see how they turned out. I would have ended up in the hospital if I didn’t recognize what was happening. What sort of a person thinks that’s okay? And on that note, I thought I raised you better.”
“I don’t take drugs,” Ricky said lamely. “I really don’t.”
“So if I drive you to the doctor’s office right now, you’ll pass a drug test? They won’t find any marijuana in your system?”
He didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought. You’re grounded for a month. Your father and I will drop you off and pick you up from school. You aren’t allowed to see any of your friends without supervision.”
“Okay,” he said, hoping that would be the end of it.
