Page 114 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

He set his guitar aside just in time, because I tackled him, kissing him hard, practically knocking us both off the bed.

“Congratulations.” He kissed the tip of my nose, smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes—there was no dimple in it. “So now what?”

“Look.” I handed him the letter and he sat on the edge of his bed with it.

“Dear Student,” Dale read softly. “Congratulations, you have placed in the Maine Difference Creative Competition. You are invited to attend the Maine Difference Open House Program on April twenty-second to claim your prize and take a good look at our campus and the college way of life.”

He paused and the piece of paper trembled slightly in his hands.

“Isn’t it great?” I cried. “Placed. That means something. I might not get first—that’s the full scholarship—and second and third place are cash prizes. But at least I placed! I’m going to Maine!”

“It’s terrific, Sara.” He handed the letter back to me. “I’m so proud of you.”

He didn’t look happy, and I knew why, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt a lump in my throat, swallowing around it, wanting to tell him it was all going to be okay, but John interrupted us.

“They still doing that Maine Difference contest thing?” John asked from the doorway and I jumped, startled.

“Dad!” Dale frowned. “How long have you been there?”

“Sorry,” John said sheepishly. “I heard Maine and it drew my attention. I didn’t know you wanted to go to the University of Maine, Sara. Which one?”

“Orono.”

“Great school.” He nodded. “You planning on going into forestry?”

was done trying to wake her up, to make her see. To save her.

The only person I could save was myself.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, glancing up at me. “You better not be going out to see any boys, you little whore!”

“I’ll be back later.” I walked toward the door, determined, ignoring his question and his snide remark.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

His words stopped my progress toward the door. I turned back as he lit a cigarette, watching me. He shook the match out and the motion recalled the memory of him hitting me—hitting her—and I flinched. I knew if I escaped, she’d be the only one here for him to take it out on. I knew it—and I was going to leave anyway.

A sick rage heated my chest, spreading thickly.

“I’m an adult. I’ll do what I want. You don’t own me.”

I was suddenly, amazingly calm. It was as if everything in my body had gone still.

“What?” His my-ears-must-be-deceiving-me tone was almost comical. So was the expression his face.

“I’m going. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Wrong!” He stood, towering over me and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother shrink back against the sofa. “I’m your father! I make the money! I say what goes around here!”

“You’re not my father.” I was trembling, a cold sweat running between my breasts toward my navel under the t-shirt I was wearing. But the words didn’t stop. It wasn’t that I couldn’t stop the words—it was the words themselves. They wouldn’t stop. “And you don’t make the money around here anymore, do you? The world doesn’t revolve around you, asshole! I’m done letting you tell me what to do. Do you hear me? You can beat me, you can fuck me—do whatever you want—but the next time you touch me, you’re going to have to kill me, because I’m done!”

I thought I might faint before I could turn the doorknob and escape, but I didn’t. The shock must have stopped even him for the next thirty seconds or so, because I was crouched upstairs on the third floor, fetal and rocking just outside Dale’s door, when I heard my father explode out of our apartment, tearing open the door to our building, screaming my name.

I took the opportunity to knock on Dale’s door, but I didn’t have the strength to stand. My legs wouldn’t hold me.

Dale answered, wearing just a pair of boxers, hair tousled, eyes half-closed. He liked to sleep late on Saturdays.

“Sara?” He went from sleepy and yawning to alert in an instant, reaching down and picking me up like I weighed nothing, taking me inside and kicking the door shut behind him. The apartment was quiet.

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