Page 91 of Trusting Easton

That’s what I’m hoping for. I’m not sure it will happen. But my dad isn’t that heartless. I can’t see him just throwing her out on the street.

“I love you,” I tell her. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t believe me. She wants to trust me, and trust that I’ll be there for her, but she can’t. She’s had too many people let her down, including me.

“You should get to sleep.” She moves out of my arms and lays down.

“Goodnight.” I kiss her, then get up and get dressed.

“Easton?” she says as I’m leaving.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Damn, this night couldn’t get any better. Nova agreed to be my girlfriend and she told me she loves me. And on top of all that, I had great sex and won the hockey game.

When I’m back in my room, I already miss her. I would’ve stayed with her, but it was too risky. I need to keep my mom on our side, and that might not happen if she catches me in Nova’s room.

* * *

In the morning,I go downstairs for our usual Saturday breakfast. Nova’s already there, dressed like she’s ready to leave. I hope she didn’t pack her bag, but I’m guessing she did. She’s sitting at the table with this nervous look on her face while Jenna whines to my mom about getting her nails done.

“But you said we’d go this morning, before I went to Katy’s house,” Jenna says.

“And now we can’t. I need to be home to talk to your father.”

“I thought he wasn’t getting here until noon,” I say, filling my plate from the platters of food set out on the island.

“He isn’t,” my mom says. “But I have some calls to make before he gets here.”

Jenna looks between my mom and me. “Why is everyone acting so weird about Dad getting home? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“We’re not acting any differently than normal,” my mom says. “Just eat your breakfast and then go put away the laundry I left in your room.”

“Why didn’tyoudo it? You always put it away.”

“Not anymore. You’re old enough to put your laundry away.”

“But—”

“And if you complain about it, you’ll bedoingyour laundry too.”

Jenna huffs. “Why am I being punished? I didn’t do anything.”

I join them at the table. “Doing laundry isn’t a punishment. You’re lucky you can wash your clothes. Some people can’t.”

“Like who?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.

“Homeless people,” Nova says, staring at her plate as she moves her scrambled eggs around it with her fork.

I look at my mom, seeing if she picked up on what Nova said. She looks back at me, then gets up from the table and goes over to the sink. She picks up her dishcloth and starts wiping down counters. She’s worried. She wouldn’t be cleaning spotless counters if she wasn’t.

“Mom, can we go to the nail salon when I get home later?” Jenna asks.

“No. You do not need a manicure. Your nails look fine.”

“They aren’t even painted! I had to take the polish off because it was chipped. I need new polish and the nail salon has that kind that—“

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