A Good Boy Is Hard to Find (The Naughty List #3)(10)

The doctor said he’d consult with the surgeon, and my mother alternated between oh, my Gods and damn its, which seemed to really contrast each other.

Wait. Was … was Aiden here? Did I dream that? I looked over to my father, and when he caught my eye, he smiled. “What is it, honey?”

“Was Aiden here?” My voice lowered at his name. My father’s eyebrows pulled together behind his glasses. At first, I wasn’t sure he was going to answer, but then he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Um … he was. Yep.”

I waited. He averted my eyes. “And? Is he still here?” Not that I wanted to see him. I was just curious.

“No. No, when we got here, he said he had to get back up to school. Guess one of the boys had called him about the accident. He came to check on you.”

“Oh.” I wondered what else he’d said. If he’d apologized to my father, or left a message for me. But I didn’t want to look like I cared. Because I didn’t. That part of my life was over, and my hairdresser had suggested that when I thought about Aiden and it hurt, I should think about something happy instead. So … uh … Unicorns. Yes, unicorns raced on rainbows and had flowers in their manes and granted wishes and—

“You ready?” My happy thought was interrupted by my mother as she shuffled almost a dozen papers and pamphlets in her hands.

I nodded, still feeling a little high. Man. Those drugs were definitely strong. In fact, I think I might have called Aiden my … I stopped, unicorns popping in my head. But I moved them aside and wondered what he thought when I’d called him my boyfriend. If he smiled his beautiful smile. If his gorgeous green eyes filled with tears. If he said he loved me.

“I got you crutches,” my father said, reaching behind the chair to pick them up off the floor. “I figured you wouldn’t be happy going to school in the wheelchair.”

“No. The gymnasium isn’t handicap accessible yet.” I was distracted, but with the help of my mother, I climbed off the table. I was suddenly helpless, and for me, that was not a good feeling. Not at all.

When we got home, there were, like, eight hundred messages on the phone. Some from concerned squad members and some vulgar ones from fellow students.

My father’s eyes grew more and more concerned with each passing message.

Beep. “You’re in a world of hurt, Crimson. You’re lucky I don’t call the f**king cops.”

Beep. “I have to admit, I appreciated the help SOS gave me, but to think it was you? Totally weird. I mean, we have language arts together. You knew all that stuff about me and never said anything. I thought SOS was part of the CIA or something. Not a freaking cheerleader. Whatever.”

Beep. “You and your girls are going down—”

My father shut off the machine and rubbed roughly at his forehead before slipping off his glasses and putting them on the granite kitchen countertop.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We didn’t mean to—”

“Tessa, when you informed us last year about the spying, we were disappointed. We told you that investigating your fellow students was unethical, and I thought we all agreed that you were done with it.” He paused, glancing down at my ankle.

“Wait, did your injury have something to do with SOS? I thought it was a cheerleading accident.” My father’s cheeks were quickly turning red, and I had a feeling that I might be in a bit of hot water.

After Chloe had attacked me and Aiden dumped me last year, I’d told my parents everything. I told them all about the missions and the SOS motto. I even told them how it had ruined my life. And, yes, technically I did promise that it wouldn’t happen again. But I thought that since we were better organized and more mature now, it’d be okay. Wait, was his eye twitching?

“Well?”

“I was with cheerleaders. So it was sort of a cheerleading accident.”

“You were spying!” My father’s voice bordered on raised, and for him that was very rare—or rather, nonexistent.

“Yes, but—”

He held up his hand to stop me. His cheeks were flush, and I was glad my mother was in the shower. I didn’t think I could handle both of them being angry with me right now.

After a second of his silence (and my guilt), my father sighed. “Listen,” he said, almost apologetically. “Let’s not tell your mother that you’re spying again. She’d be very upset, and I don’t like seeing her unhappy. I try to protect both of you—even though you’ve been making that tough lately.” He reached to put his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m really sorry,” I murmured. “But we’re just trying to help the brokenhearted of Washington County. Those girls need us, Dad.”

My father’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Tessa, I know your heart is always in the right place. It’s your ankle I’m worried about.”

“Touché.”

He dropped his arm and glanced at the phone resting on the counter. “Do you need me to the call the school, or set up some sort of protection for you?”

I laughed. I could just imagine my father showing up in a black suit, like my own personal secret service agent. I suddenly worried that if things didn’t improve quickly, he might pull me out of school altogether. I couldn’t imagine. I was pretty sure the homeschooling community didn’t have a cheer squad.