Ella's Twisted Senior Year(48)
I grin. “I don’t think anyone knows. Word never got out and your truck is gone so no one knows. And if Kennedy wants to post something about it to tell everyone, then it’ll make her look guilty as hell.” I put a hand on his shoulder and look him in those beautiful dark eyes. “Don’t worry. That bitch hasn’t won anything.”
*
The dinner table is a strictly Poe affair tonight since both of my parents are working late. Dad has a twenty-four-hour shift and Mom doesn’t get off until eight. Tensions are high as we sit around the dinner table, and it’s not because Mrs. Poe won’t tell us all of the ingredients in her eggplant veggie pasta.
Mr. Poe stares at his dinner fork like it’s done something to offend him. “You think it was a rival football team?” He points the fork at Ethan. “Some kind of prank to WCHS’s quarterback? Man, if we find out who did it, there will be some hell to pay.”
“It wasn’t football related, Dad.” Ethan takes a tentative bite of something green from his plate. I think it’s zucchini but it tastes spicy with the sauce that’s baked into it. “This has nothing to do with sports.”
“Well it must be a random act of violence then,” Mr. Poe says. His graying eyebrows pull together. “Kids these days get jealous of people having nice things. They probably don’t even care who owns the truck and just wanted to be heathens.”
Ethan’s shoulders tense while his dad keeps rambling on, dissecting today’s youth and how they don’t have respect for anything. Mrs. Poe is taking pictures of her plate, probably for her blog or Instagram and she doesn’t seem to care that her son’s very expensive truck was smashed to bits in the parking lot.
Ethan sighs. “Dad, it’s none of that. It was Kennedy.”
Now Mrs. Poe looks interested. “What makes you say that?”
“Because she hates me for breaking up with her.” He pushes his plate away and drops the fork on top of the uneaten pasta. “I know it was her but they said there’s no evidence so they’re not doing anything about it.”
“Oh honey, you don’t know that for sure. It was probably random like your dad said.”
He chuckles sarcastically. “Mom, I know my life. It was Kennedy. She’s pissed at me for breaking up with her and for not going with her to prom and now it’s not good enough to blast me online she had to blast apart my car as well. You don’t have to believe me, but it is what it is.”
Mrs. Poe’s eyes widen. “Blast you online?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Speak to your mother with respect,” Mr. Poe says, his dominating voice booming over the dinner table. Even Dakota flinches and she’s not the one being yelled at. “You can think whatever you want about who smashed your truck but I’m the one shelling out the higher insurance cost from now on. If you really think the girl did it, then maybe you should stop dating crazy airheads.”
Mrs. Poe chuckles. “That is some solid advice, honey.”
“No need to worry about that,” Dakota says. She takes a sly sip of her sweet tea and looks at Ethan and me. “I don’t think his next girlfriend will be nearly as crazy as Kennedy.”
“Next girlfriend?” Mrs. Poe lifts an eyebrow. “Aren’t you two . . ?”
Mr. Poe clears his throat. “Not while they’re in the same house, I should hope.”
Flames burst over my skin as Mr. Poe’s insinuation proceeds to embarrass the hell out of me.
“We’re just—” I begin, but Ethan finishes for me when I can’t think of how to end my sentence.
“Dating,” he says, throwing me a sly grin. “But we’re taking it slow, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”
Dakota giggles and Mrs. Poe looks up from her phone. “I knew it!” She points a manicured finger toward her husband. “You called it like ten years ago.”
“Called what?” Mom asks, walking into the room in her Hello Kitty scrubs. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of her head.
“I thought you were working late?” I say at the same time Mrs. Poe says, “Our kids are dating.”
Mom’s smile goes all the way to her eyes. “It’s about time,” she says, ruffling my hair as she walks by. “We called that a long time ago,” she says, giving Mr. Poe a high five.
She drops her purse on the counter and gets a plate from the cabinet. I’m not sure if it’s medically possible to blush so much that your skin melts off, but it might be a good idea to throw a pitcher of ice water on my head right now, just in case.
We’ve just pretty much admitted we’re an official couple to our family and they’re all laughing about it like they knew it all along. I sink down into my chair and Dakota meets my gaze. “Remember a long time ago when we used to plan out your wedding to my brother?”
“Oh my god, let’s not talk about this,” I say, eyeing the ice water in the middle of the table.
“Wait, I want to hear,” Ethan says. Mom joins us at the table and fills her plate with the veggie pasta.
“Let’s not talk about weddings, okay? Ya’ll are way too young. But I do have great news, Ella. Your dad and I found a rental house.”
I force a smile. A few weeks ago I would have been over the moon to move out of Ethan’s house, but that was—of course—when I hated him. Now the idea of not having him down the hallway at night makes me sad. Of course, I realize that normal high school seniors don’t get to live with their boyfriends. Still, it was fun while it lasted.