Page 29 of Trusting Blake
I sense Mom and Dad flinch at my ruthless words, but Popeye shifts in his seat to glance back at me. “Good for you, Mila,” he says. Maybe he didn’t expect me to defend myself against my parents, but Mom and Dad have made so many of their own mistakes that it’s, quite frankly, laughable that they believe they can reprimand me for my actions.
“Also,” I add, emboldened by Popeye’s approval, “we’re more thanfriends. In fact, Blake is my boyfriend.”
Dad actually laughs. A hard, cold laugh that slices through the stifling air in the van. “No,” he says, vehemently shaking his head. “No way, Mila.”
“She’s sixteen, Everett,” Sheri speaks up from the front. She must be driving faster on the way home, because we’re already barreling down the quiet country road toward the Harding Estate, outrunning the paps once more. “I don’t think you can tell her who she can and can’t date.”
Oh, Sheri. My favorite aunt in the whole entire world.
“When you have kids of your own,” Dad snaps back at her, “thenyou can tell me how to raise my daughter.”
“Hey!” Popeye snarls. “Watch your step.”
Dad immediately looks contrite and holds up his hands in apology, his tone softening. “Sorry, Sheri. That was out of line.” I glance sideways at him. He sounds like he means it.
“Forget it,” Sheri says in a resigned voice. “You’re always out of line.”
We pull up at the gate where a handful of reporters are still waiting, and all of us know it won’t be long before the rest follow us back from church. Sheri floors it through the opening gate and all the way up the dirt track toward the house. She yanks her keys from the ignition, throws open her door, and strides off. Sheri is relatively composed most of the time; it’s unlike her to be so visibly upset.
“Good job.” Popeye tuts as he stiffly steps out of the van to follow her. “You ruin everything, Everett.”
I want to help him, but I’m still rammed into the backseat with my parents on either side of me. The three of us watch as Popeye carefully climbs the porch steps, and then disappears out of sight.
“You shouldn’t have said that,” Mom says stonily, breaking the silence with a disappointed sigh. She glares at Dad. Maybe I’m in the clear, perhaps the subject has changed, but then Mom crosses her arms and stares me down in the most uncomfortable of ways. “So, is that who you were with yesterday?Blake?”
“Yes,” I answer without missing a beat. My voice may be bold and my expression firm, but inside, my heart pounds in my chest and heat surges through my veins. I rarely ever talk back to my parents, but I refuse to let them decide who I can and can’t hang around with. Not now, not ever again. “We went to Nashville with a few other friends. I’m squished. Can we get out of the van now?”
With a huff, Dad gets out first and I slip out after him. Mom walks around the vehicle to meet us, her and Dad lining up in front of me with very unpleasant expressions on their faces.
“Welcome home,” Ruben calls from up on the porch, his tone sardonic as ever. “How was church then?”
Without turning around or even taking his fierce eyes off me, Dad loudly and clearly announces, “We learned that Mila is dating LeAnne Avery’s son. But not for much longer.”
“LeAnne Avery?” Ruben repeats, and then he recognizes the name. “Oh.The other woman from your early days.” He descends the porch steps and joins my parents, his hands placed sternly on his hips. “Mila, if your father doesn’t want you dating this boy, then you absolutely need to stop seeing him immediately. We are trying to contain a situation here, not create more complications. Thisrelationshipof yours clearly has disaster written all over it.”
“Ruben, enough,” Mom says, then, onlyslightlyless strictly than Dad, “Mila, you can’t date this kid. We have history with his family, and you aren’t staying here forever. I’m sure you’ll find a great guy back home one day. Don’t be difficult about this.”
I’m still trapped next to the car with my parents and the insufferable Ruben against me – the three of them poised in a line in front of me, all staring back with disapproval and intense pressure. Maybe they expect me to give in to their wishes like I most likely would have done a month ago, but one thing Blake has taught me is that you need to live your own life the way you want to, even if that means causing friction with your parents. It’s a good lesson. LeAnne doesn’t want Blake to pursue music, to be with me, but does that stop him? No.
“Dad. Mom.Ruben,” I say, my gaze shifting to each of them one at a time. “I’m dating Blake, and the most I can promise you is that I won’t bring him over here.”
There’s a horrible silence, then: “Your phone,” Dad orders, holding out his hand.
“What?”
“Give me your phone.”
A mixture of resentment and panic seizes me. “You’re kidding, right? No way!”
Dad looks at me, completely unimpressed. “Mila, I have every right. I pay for your damn phone and whether you like it or not, Idoget to have a say in your life. Now, hand it over!”
“Fine.” I grab it from my skirt pocket, and slap it down hard against Dad’s palm, hoping it stings. “It’s smashed, anyway, so you can buy me a new one. You owe me, after all. I threw it in anger because ofyou.”
“Mila!” Mom exclaims, as if appalled by my behavior.
Dad rubs at his forehead in frustration, turning to his annoying shadow. “Ruben, you’re to speak with Sheri and figure out how Mila left this place. Then make sure she can’t do it again.” He glares at me. “Mila, you aren’t leaving this ranch until it’s time for us all to go home.”
I try not to laugh. When will he learn to stop throwing these blanket orders at me? “What, like, together?” I scoff. I’m forcing myself to find this hilarious only because if I don’t, I fear my anger will explode until I burst into tears. “How optimistic of you, Dad, to believe everything will be okay when you are literally ruining my entire life!”
