Fallen Crest High(132)

As I got to my locker, I grabbed my bag and phone. When I went to the parking lot, I started to call my mom, and I couldn't believe she was my last resort, but stopped abruptly. I blinked a few times, but then I put my phone away. My mom was already there. She was waiting in her convertible.

"Hi, honey." She waved her fingers at me. "I got you a coffee."

"Mom," I started as I got inside. "I really can't handle much right now so if you've got any more bombs to lay on me, can you leave them for another day?"

Her smile slipped a bit. "Are you okay, honey?"

I stared at her. Had she not been there when I stormed out of the classroom?

"I'm perfect."

She laughed. "Well, I don't know about that, but you're pretty good."

My mouth wanted to fall to the ground. Where had the mom from this morning gone? She professed she wanted to change and now I got the Barbie fake mom again.

At a stoplight, she let out a deep breath. Her voice dropped to a normal tone.

"Well, I'm sorry about those bombs, but I do have one to drop on you." She paused for a beat. "Your father's in town."

I closed my eyes.

"And he wants to meet you."

"Oh no."

"Tonight."

I wanted that run. I needed that run right now.

I looked at her. "How long is he in town?" My voice came out breathless.

"It depends on you." She held my gaze until the light turned green. As we started forward again, she gripped the steering wheel with clenched knuckles.

"I don't like that he's here, but he is. David's going to flip about this."

My heart was pounding again. It was a horse track. "Mom, I can't…"

Her hand clasped onto mine and she squeezed it. "I'm sorry, honey. I really am, but your father's a jerk. If I tell him you don't want to see him, he won't believe me. He'll show up anyway and I'd like to avoid that, if possible."

"Mom." My voice was a whisper now. "I can't. I really can't."

She kept driving and we were almost home when she murmured, "Okay, honey. I'll tell him you're not ready."

Everything sagged forward at that. As soon as we got home, I unbuckled and bolted for the door. I was back on the pavement within ten minutes with my running shoes on and my headphones in my ears.

Three hours later when I turned into the driveway, my stomach had stopped rumbling. Everything was numb in me, it was the way I liked it, and I was blind to the three cars I passed as I let myself inside. I trailed through the house and eyed the droplets of sweat that slipped from me. I doubted my mom would care, not that I ever did, but the small grin that formed on my face was wiped away when I went past the dining room.

A man sat at the table with my mother and James. He had striking blue eyes and broad shoulders. He looked in his forties with a strong jaw and a lean physique. Confidence and authority exhumed from him. As he turned towards me, he never blinked. I felt pinned under his gaze and steeled myself. He was trying to read into me, as only Mason tended to do sometimes.

"Sam, honey." Analise jumped up. "You're back from your run."

I couldn't answer her. I couldn't look away from this man.

She laughed nervously. "This is your father…Garrett Brickshire."

"You're the hotshot lawyer from Boston?"

The corner of his lip twitched. "You're the pain in the ass daughter I never knew about?"

"My mom said you were a jerk." I paused. "That was an understatement."