Page 86 of Hate Notes

My throat tightened, and if Topher didn’t completely hate my guts, I’d probably laugh.

“It’s fine, Dad,” I said, mostly because I didn’t think Topher and I would be talking, much less hanging out any time soon. “But what are you gonna do? I mean, you need a job.”

Dad sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to the wall behind me, lost in his thoughts as he said, “All these years, I thought I was setting a good example for you girls by working my butt of for this family, by providing for you, and showing you what it looks like to work hard and—”

“You were. And you are,” I said, feeling my defenses rise, because he was a good father. The best. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t have risked my relationship with Topher.

“Maybe, but . . .” He bit his lip, pausing as his eyes met mine once more. “Maybe I should’ve shown you that it’s okay to take a risk, to put yourself out there and believe in yourself. Then if you try and fail, at least you won’t ever look back, wishing you had done something different. Wishing you had enough faith in yourself to reach for your dreams. Which is why I’m opening my own business.”

“Really?” My eyes widened, and I sucked in a shuddering breath.

He nodded. “I’ve always wanted to, but I guess, after your mom . . . I just never thought it was in the cards. It’ll be tough at first, but I spoke with an investor; he used to be a client of Elliot’s, and he’s going to help fund some of the equipment I’ll need and my first hire, interest-free. Plus, I think I have enough of Elliot’s big-name clients that like me and are tired of the price hikes that’ll give me a chance to earn their business. I’ll start out slow, won’t get in over my head. I don’t need to make millions. Heck,” he scrubbed a hand over his face and laughed, “with the measly wage Elliot paid me, it won’t take much to earn that kind of salary.”

“Dad, that’s—” I shook my head, trying to come up with the words to describe how happy it made me that after all this time he believed in himself enough to invest in his own hard work. “—amazing,” I said, finally. “Really. I’m so happy for you.”

“Now, does this mean you’re done moping around and eating chips on the couch?” He eyed the half-empty bag of Fritos with an arched brow..

“Unlikely.” I groaned and flopped back onto the sofa while Sara patted my hand. “It’s more than your job,” I said.

“What is it, then?”

“I . . . hurt a friend, and now they won’t forgive me.”

“Does this friend happen to be Topher?”

I slung an arm over my face. Already, my cheeks burned. It was so embarrassing talking about boys with Dad. “Maybe,” I said, peeking at him from under the cover of my arm.

“I’m sure he’ll come around.”

Those were his infinite words of wisdom?Not that he knew exactly what happened, but still . . .

“And if he doesn’t?” I asked, the ache returning to my chest.

“Then you pull a Romeo,” Sara said beside me, and I nearly choked.

“Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet?”

She shrugged. “No.”

“Um, you know Romeo killed himself, right? Because he thought Juliet was dead. That’s what that expression means? To . . .”

I let her fill in the blank, and her face turned white. “Oh.”

I laughed at her expression, feeling just a little lighter for it.

“Yeah, don’t do that, then,” she said.

“Well, tragic love stories aside,” Dad said, glaring at Sara. “We have a surprise for you.” Then he offered me the garment bag.

I frowned as I took it, and he motioned for me to open it up. Slowly, I unzipped the bag to reveal a silk gown in the palest shade of pink like the bottom of a rose petal. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

“It was your mothers. I had it dry cleaned, and I want you to wear it tonight.”

“Tonight?” I blinked at him, and he stared at me like I was stupid.

“To homecoming.”

“I thought I was grounded,” I asked warily.

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