Sweet Water(62)

“And what do you think of this Marty?” My father directs his attention at Hanna, who immediately shrinks beneath her comforter.

“The SAEs are a nice group of guys. It’s a shame what happened,” she says.

“That’s it? You still want to party with guys who leave their brother for dead?”

Hanna swallows hard and looks like she might throw up.

“Dad. Stop.” It’s one thing for him to throw his strong opinions at me, but Hanna’s not used to how aggressive he becomes when a matter of moral high ground is tested, especially when he thinks someone’s been hurt because of it.

“They settled out of court, Sarah.”

I’m not sure what that means, but settled sounds like a good thing. “Then they came to an agreement.”

Dad shifts his weight. “No. That doesn’t make them good people. It just makes them resourceful.”

“Dad, he wasn’t there. Hanna and I were at the party that night, and I actually asked Tush . . .” I get a little choked up at the memory, his flirty brown eyes searching mine when I asked where Martin was. “I asked Tush where Martin was, and he said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Is that right?” Dad asks, but I can tell that doesn’t matter to him.

“Yes, I swear. And if Martin’s family gave Tush’s family money as compensation, then they were being charitable,” I say.

My father lets out a mirthless laugh. He tells me to sit up, and I do, because he rarely gives me orders. He takes Hanna’s desk chair and swings it around and sits down in front of me.

“Sarah, they were not being charitable. Martin’s father was a member of the same fraternity, and he wanted to make sure the parents of the dead boy and the school didn’t sue him. He also wanted to make sure those boys got to keep their damn letters.”

His words are like static in my ears, because I know Martin is innocent in all of this. “If his brothers made a mistake, Martin wasn’t part of it.”

“Well, somebody should be held accountable for that boy. If not the pledge master and if not the president of the fraternity, then who?”

I think of Martin, pledge master, and Meat, the president of the fraternity. They’re very tight, and I’m sure they went to bat for each other, but the fact that neither one was willing to take the fall only meant that neither one of them was likely responsible either.

“Who’s going to turn themselves in if they don’t believe they’ve done anything wrong?”

My dad puffs out his cheeks and looks positively frustrated. “Sarah, you’re very gracious, and I’ve always respected your decisions, but dating this boy is the wrong one. Those SAEs are bad news, and I’d like you to stay away from them, and especially Marty Ellsworth.”

Wow. Our father-daughter relationship has always been one of open communication and limited restriction. My father hasn’t told me to stay away from anyone before, preferring I make my own decisions and my own mistakes.

I’m not sure why he’s so adamant about this one. He doesn’t know Martin like I do. He doesn’t realize who he really is, all the wonderful things he aspires to do, the pain he’s suffered from the accident, the lessons he’s learned because of it.

“You’re wrong about him, Dad.” All he can see is the boy connected to the university scandal, and that isn’t fair. Martin is so much more than that. He’s grown up in a day since Tush’s passing. He’s really cleaned up, even cut his hair.

“There’re lots of boys here, Sarah. I realize you didn’t date a lot in high school, and maybe that was my fault, but it’s not a great idea to cozy up to the first boy you meet. Big campus out there.”

I roll my eyes. He’s not the first. Not that Dad needs to know about that. He’ll do anything to keep me away from Martin. Even if it means suggesting I sleep with other boys.

“Just ask your roommate; she knows.”

Hanna gasps, and I don’t know what his deal is today. “Not funny, Dad.”

“I’ll tell you what’s not funny. I spent a week cleaning up the SAEs’ mess when they closed the house, and I don’t want to tell you what I found.”

Uh-oh. I hold my breath, suddenly fearful.

“Please tell us,” Hanna begs.

Dad sighs, and Hanna straightens up in bed as if the insult my father just threw at her has disappeared at the mere mention of potential gossip.

“For one, the floors were so sticky, I had to bleach the bottom of my boots when I left. They live like animals. The bathrooms were filthy. And there was enough porn shoved beneath the mattresses to open an adult store.”

“Dad! Stop.” I cover my face, trying not to imagine Martin looking at racy magazines. Please don’t let it be his room.

“No, don’t stop—this is fantastic.” Hanna has her hands clasped together like it’s Christmas morning and it’s her turn to open a present.

“It’s true. And those magazines were sticky too.”

“Eww!” I want to die right now.

“Okay, you can stop,” Hanna concedes, but she’s still laughing.

“Those were the minor offenses, girls. I sugarcoated it for you.”

Hanna puts the palms of her hands up in a questioning posture. “Sugarcoated, huh . . .”