Shut Out(37)

“Sleeping, I assume. He got in late last night.”

“Really? Why? Where was he?”

“Date.”

I narrowed my eyes at Dad. “With who?”

Dad sighed. “Logan’s a grown-up, remember? He doesn’t have to tell us whom he is going out with.”

“Fine,” I said, hoping it wasn’t Jenna, and poked my spoon at a raisin floating in my milk. “Okay, then I’ll just tell you alone, I guess.”

“Tell me what, sweetheart?”

Deep breath. One, two, three…

“Randy and I broke up last night.”

“Oh.” Dad hesitated before putting his spoon down on the table and focusing all his attention on me. I could already see the cloud of disappointment in his eyes. “Well, I know things can get dramatic at school dances. Maybe you’ll see him at school on Monday and you two will talk it over and—”

I shook my head. “No, Dad. It’s over. I’m not getting back together with him this time.” I pushed my bowl of cereal away from me, my appetite gone. “Sorry. I’m really sorry; I know you and Logan love him, and I know he’s like part of the family, but after last night… I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Lissa, honey, don’t apologize to me.” He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “What happened?”

I rubbed at the corners of my eyes with my free hand, feeling tears begin to spring up. “Last night at the dance, I caught him kissing another girl.” No need to go into the dirty details about the bathroom and the girl’s thong. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Hey, I said stop apologizing.” Dad squeezed my hand. “Listen, honey, Logan and I… We do think a lot of Randy. But if he doesn’t respect you, then he has lost our respect, okay?”

The tears were actually slipping down my cheeks now. So embarrassing. Maybe I had just been in too much shock last night to really cry, and sitting here, talking to Dad, it was finally hitting me. I hated it, though. I didn’t want to cry over Randy.

“But he was like a second son to you,” I reminded Dad. “He played football and watched games with you. He made you happy.”

“But making you this upset does not make me happy,” Dad said. “Lissa, what made me happiest about Randy was that, as far as I knew, he made you happy. Sure, it was nice that we had things in common, but that doesn’t matter in the long run. Who you date is your decision. If you want to date an unshaven, sports-loathing vegetarian poet, I’ll still be happy for you—just as long as you’re happy with it.”

I managed a crooked smile. “Even a soccer player?”

Dad laughed. “Even a soccer player… Though Logan may disagree on that one.”

“Well, he won’t even tell us who he’s dating, so he can just deal.”

Dad smiled and patted my hand before pulling his away and returning to his bowl of cereal. “I love you,” he said. “And I’ll welcome any boy you date with open arms. And if they hurt you, I’ll… Well, I’ll make Logan think of some way to make them pay, because I’m pretty useless.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I do leave some mean shin bruises.”

I laughed and stood up to walk around the table. I wrapped my arms around Dad’s neck from behind and rested my chin on his shoulder. “Thank you, Dad. I just wish it hadn’t worked out this way. I know you loved him. You don’t have to deny it.”

“I’ll love the next one even more.”

I released Dad. “There may not be a next one. I’m giving up on boys.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.” Dad looked over his shoulder at me. “But you’ll have another one in no time. I’m sure of it.”

“We’ll see.” I picked up my half-eaten bowl of cereal and took it to the sink. “But thanks. For being so sweet, I’ll let you have dessert after dinner tonight. What would you like me to make?”

“You’re making dinner?” Dad asked. “I thought your friends were coming over for a girl-slumber-over-sleep-party thing.”

I rinsed out my bowl. “Slumber party. And no. I have a feeling no one will show up tonight. Some other stuff happened after I caught Randy…. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t think they’ll be talking to me for a while.”

“Even Chloe?”

“Especially Chloe.”

Just as the words left my mouth, the doorbell rang. I finished cleaning my bowl, wiped my hands on the dish towel, and headed into the living room. “Coming!” I shouted as the doorbell rang again.

“Rainbow Brite? Really, Lissa? How old are you?”

“Chloe?” I stared at her standing in the open doorway. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be—”

“Pissed at you? Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you, too. Why haven’t you been answering your cell? I called it, like, a gazillion times.”

“I haven’t heard it ring,” I told her, stepping aside so she could walk in. “I didn’t charge it when I came in last night, so it might be dead. I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to call me today—except maybe Randy, and I don’t want to talk to him.”