Page 84 of More Than Chemical
“He feels bad for putting you in that situation. He wishes he hadn’t.” She tilted her head. “In fact, there are a lot of things he regrets. It seems never-ending…”
I moved the noodles around on my plate and nodded. At least he was trying to show some remorse.
A quiet settled around us. An awkward silence.
I glanced at my mom. Her eyes were glistening, and her nose had turned pink.
“Mom, please don’t cry.”
“I can’t help myself.” She sniffled. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do if your dad is sent to prison.”
“I doubt he’ll go to prison,” I said.
“But you said it yourself. Five counts. Maximum sentence for each is ten years.”
“I’ve done some research since that night I gave you those pamphlets. In the cases I’ve found of college athletic bribery, the coaches got two, maybe three months tops and a year or two of probation.”
“I suppose that makes me feel a little better.” Mom’s voice went back to being as steady as she could make it.
She stirred her soup and blew on it. “Your dad said you’re not going to come to the trial next week. You haven’t changed your mind?”
I didn’t say a word. Mostly because I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t going. That decision was final. Actually, it had never even been a decision. It was a nonnegotiable given.
Finally, I said, “It’s true. I’m not going. It could jeopardize my situation at school. Where I am Adriana Blankin and not Adriana Bianchini.”
Mom nodded. Seconds later, she whispered, “Okay.”
I breathed in, but my lungs wouldn’t fill all the way.
Mom hadn’t yelled at me or reprimanded me for it, and Dad had accepted it. They were treating me like the adult I was. Yet still my chest was heavy with the burden.
Thirty-One
Or Not
On Monday morning, in the middle of chemistry, I woke up my phone. The screen said nine thirty in the morning. Dad’s trial must be well underway.
A picture of him in orange flashed like a beacon in my mind. An image of a prison cell with metal bars came next.
Stop it. Just stop it. You are not going to the trial to be an exhibit. You’re just not.
I glanced at Dallas’s empty seat. It shouldn’t bother me that he was a no-show. He’d told me that he didn’t know if he’d be back by Monday, but his absence and lack of contact hurt. He hadn’t bothered to text me all weekend.
After class, Jay and I walked together to our next one. I was having a hard time keeping up with him. My legs just wouldn’t cooperate.
“I take it that you still haven’t been sleeping very well.” Jay blew another bubble with the gum he was chewing, and I grimaced. The popping sound was driving me crazy.
“Do I look that bad?”
“No, not bad. Just more tired than usual.”
I sighed. He was right. My insomnia hadn’t relented.
“Doesn’t your dad’s trial start today?” Jay asked.
“Yes.” My shoulders tensed.
“And you didn’t go?”
