Page 75 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

I felt him stiffen beside me. He shoved the candy into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, a good excuse for his hesitation.

“In Maine,” he said finally. “They split up. End of story.”

“It must have been hard,” I said. I’d never had to go through that. My father died in a car accident before I ever knew him, and my mother had married the stepbeast by the time I entered second grade.

He set the candy bowl between us, his laugh hard, bitter. “Not really. I hate my mother.”

“Why?” I watched him folding his Tootsie Roll wrapper into some shape on his thigh.

“Because... because she cheated on my father. Because she did it for years and never told him. Because—” He stopped and looked at me. “Because the jerk she was cheating with is still with his wife and kids and they have no idea it ever happened.”

“God,” I whispered. “How did you find out?”

“You really want to know?”

I nodded. He’d finished folding his wrapper into a miniature paper airplane and now he threw it with a vengeance. It sailed over the coffee table. “I walked in on them. This guy—he was my dad’s best friend—he invited us to go swimming in his pool. My dad had work to do—term papers to grade, I think—so just Mom and I went.” He unwrapped another Tootsie Roll and he spoke his next words around it.

“So we were playing around, and I got stung by a bee. Hurt like hell but I pulled the stinger out and went to get my mom.” He began to fold another wrapper.

“Then what?” I prodded.

Dale tossed his second little airplane. It nose-dived into the carpet.

“Well, I couldn’t find her for a while. I stumbled around—the house was huge—and happened to open a door I thought was a bathroom. Turned out it was a bedroom.”

I gasped. “You found them... actually... you know...?”

“Uh, yeah. There was no doubt about what they were doing.”

“Oh my God.” I threw my own little wrapper airplane. It hit the edge of the coffee table. “What did you do?”

“They were too busy to even notice I was there. I had to yell ‘Mom!’ three times and even then she just told me to get hell out. So I waited for her outside the door.”

“And?”

“They finished what they were doing.”

I couldn’t believe it. “Are you… sure?”

He glanced sideways at me and I shrank back.

“Very sure.” His eyes were dark with anger. “So then, my mother came out in her dress and high heels and walked past me like I wasn’t even there.”

“No way,” I exclaimed. “Did you tell your dad?”

“No.” He shook his head, lips pursed. “I didn’t know what to do. I talked to her and she told me to shut my mouth. Said it was none of my business what she did and I was old enough to understand.” He laughed bitterly. “Old enough to understand…”

He stopped talking as more kids came to the door. I opened it, handing them Tootsie Rolls silently. Dale continued eating them and making tiny airplanes.

I sat back on the sofa .“So when did your dad find out?”

“He didn’t.”

I gaped at him.

“She left him. She got the idea in her head this jerk was going to ditch his wife for her and she left us. Told my father some story about how she was unhappy. She probably was. Anyway, she never told him.”

“He still doesn’t know?”

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