Page 145 of Girl Abroad

I can see how much it hurts him that I thought so little of his willingness to hear me out. That I expected him to be so harsh without a chance to plead my case. And I realize how unfair it was to decide what he’d say before he had a chance.

“Then once I decided not to tell you, it got complicated. I kept having to tell bigger lies to cover for the first one.” It’s hard to speak past the lump of guilt jammed in my throat.

“I think that’s the part I’m having the most trouble with.” There’s anger in his tone, though he doesn’t raise his voice. Looking back on those lies, I’m ashamed I found them so easy to live with. “It wasn’t just one mistake. You tricked me over and over again. Who was the girl from the dress studio?”

“Celeste.” I hang my hand shamefully. “Lee’s twin sister.”

“Fuck’s sake, Abbey.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Like so, so sorry. I know what I did was horrid, and I do regret it. I’ve been regretting it for months. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how to admit to everything I’d done. I was afraid.”

“Was it worth it?”

That’s a loaded question. And it pains me that a big part of me still thinks it was. I know now that I might have convinced him to let me stay. Even keep living in the house. Or maybe the last several months have softened him and I was right all along. Maybe he would’ve snatched me home in an instant. Either way, while I’m sorry for lying to him, I don’t regret my time here.

“I shouldn’t have lied. But separate from that, I do love it here. The neighborhood. My school. This house. And I know I can’t exactly claim independence and keep asking you to sign tuition andrent checks, but I’d really like to finish out the year if you’ll let me. I love my school, Dad. The Talbot Library is the greatest place on earth.” Tears well up in my eyes. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I’m not here to drag you home, Abbs.”

I blink through the burn of tears. “No?”

“No. I came so I could look you in the eye while you explained that headline, those pictures. But I get it now.” His voice is heavy with remorse. “I lived a full life before I even turned twenty-five, one with packed tour buses and endless party favors. I didn’t want that lifestyle to ever get you in its clutches. And meanwhile, you’re over here begging me to keep going to school because you love thelibrary.” He starts to laugh, deep and raspy. “Not sure why I was so worried.”

“I mean, that headline in theStarwasn’t exactly something tonotworry about.”

“Yes. And I think we’ve circled back. Care to explain?”

“I told you about Lord Tulley, remember? He lent me those papers for my research project about his family.” Bitterness coats my throat. “And then he sort of used them as a ruse to get me over to his penthouse.”

Dad’s eyes flash.

“No, nothing like that. He was having a party. Seems like Ben just wants everyone to get coked up and drunk with him. Makes him feel better about being a degenerate, I guess.” I hurry on. “I didn’t, by the way. Do drugs. I had one glass of wine before I realized I didn’t want to be there. I called my roommates, and they came and got me.”

I think back to last night, how the guys dropped everything to bail me out. They’d thought nothing of bursting into Ben’s building, forcing their way past the doorman, and kicking down Ben’s door because I needed help. Nobody can say they don’t care.

When it counted, they were all there for me.

“The paps caught us when Ben was coming out to try to convince me to return to the party.”

“So your roommates got you?”

“Yeah. They’re good people, Dad. They’ve been good to me.” I shrug. “We’re a family.”

“I see.” He nods slowly. “So. What now?”

“Now…well, I promise to never lie to you again.” I rethink that. “Okay, no. I can’t promise not to tell a fib or two. But I’ll never lie to you about something of this magnitude again.”

His lips twitch. “I’ll take it.”

I smile. “Shake on it?”

We reach across the table to shake, and the moment his strong hand encloses mine, it feels like a load has been lifted off my chest.

“Come on,” he says, tugging me to my feet. “How about we go out to eat? I’m starved.”

“Might be kind of late to get a table anywhere,” I point out. “But there are some takeout places that are open late. Or there’s the pub if you’re up for it. But first let me rescue the guys. I’m pretty sure they’re hunkered down on the stoop without their coats and shoes.”

I’m not wrong. I hear their muffled voices when I approach the front door. I fling it open to find them shivering under the porch light, rubbing their hands together in the cold like a trio of street urchins in a Dickens novel.

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