by Sally Henson
Pink colors his ears and spreads to his neck. “I’m thinking about your future.” The phone rings.
9
Regan
The phone rings again and again. Dad stands, pushing the chair back with his legs. He stomps to the counter, answering the phone. Mom’s eyes glance after dad and then down to her hands in her lap. She’s hardly touched her food.
“That seems fair,” Dad replies into the phone. His posture stiffens even more. “Yes, Mr. Kellen. I’ll take care of that.”
I gasp, and my whole body seizes except for my eyes. They dart between my dad and mom and the kitchen and all over the place as if I’m a caged wild animal searching for a way to escape.
Mom gives me a disapproving look. Everything about me tells her this phone call is not going to end in praises for a job well done.
Dad says goodbye and sets the phone back on the counter.
Though I’m desperately trying not to show it, my hummingbird heart is making it difficult to catch my breath.
Dad moves back to his seat.
Mom opens her mouth first. “What did Mr. Kellen want?”
“Regan, do you have something else to tell us?” Dad’s voice is a mixture of amused, confused, and ticked off.
The problem is, I have no idea what Mr. Kellen said. I look to him and mom and shake my head with the best innocent expression I can conjure up.
He presses his lips together and scowls. “Hmm.”
I shake my head again. “I don’t know why he called.” It’s the truth. I don’t know. I’m not lying, but I’m worried and know it’s not good. The sting in my eyes gives warning tears are trying to form.
“You have a detention tomorrow after school for kissing a boy on the field trip.” Dad continues to eye me. He folds his arms across his chest. “Did you know anything about this, Sarah?”
Mom sighs. “Regan.” She looks tired, older, as the disappointment leaves her tongue. She’s going to tell dad. I can tell by the look in her eyes.
Dang it! I wish Lane was here. I don’t want to do it, but it’s the only chance I have right now. “I kissed Lane goodbye before I got on the bus. But so did Tobi.” It’s the truth.
“He failed to mention anything about Tobi. Only you kissing a boy.” Doubt covers his face. He doesn’t believe me. “If you get in trouble at school, you get in trouble at home.”
Guilty until proven innocent. Is that the way it’s going to be?
I bet he did the same thing to Lincoln. Mom gives me a look that says she’s still going to tell dad about me and Lane calling her yesterday.
The fire burning in my chest grows, spreading through my body and turning my fear into anger. Every lie that’s been scattered about me, every doubt that was planted in my brain about Lane and me not working, Dad’s rejection of Lane and me staying best friends when he left for college, Johanna, the stupid sorority girls, Stacey’s vicious mouth, Paul Frak, Mr. Kellen … Dad! All of it boils up inside me.
Dad tried to run Lincoln’s life, and he left. Now Dad’s taking all my choices away. Two years is too long. If I don’t take a stand right now, it’s only going to get worse.
I throw my napkin on my plate and push it away. “Mr. Kellen may not have mentioned it, but Tobi did in fact kiss Lane on the cheek.” I glance to Mom and then focus back on Dad, straightening my spine. “Here’s the deal dad. I’m not going to Eastern. I’m going to a school with a good marine science program.” My voice is calm, even, matter-of-fact as I begin to lay everything out in the open.
He points his finger at me. “Marine science is”—his fingers curl into his palm as he pounds out each word on the tabletop—“Not. In. Your. Future.”
I keep my rigid posture. “You used to encourage me becoming a marine scientist.” I hold my hands out. “I don't get it. What's changed?” I ask him, trying to control my voice not backing down.
“I thought you would grow out of these childish dreams.” He waves his hand as if it’s a magic wand and poof, what I want disappears.
My voice raises. “You love biology and nature. You instilled that passion in us since we were babies.”
Dad cuts the air with his hand. “That is a hobby, not real life. Play time is almost over for you, Regan. You are about to be an adult.” His hand bangs the table. “Get realistic about life!”
Play time? Realistic? Childish? That’s what my friends’ parents said to them this summer. What is this, a conspiracy? Click. Oh … part of my conversation with Linc's old roommate comes together with this moment. Dad didn’t want Linc to change his major either.
“So what?” I fold my arms across my chest. “You're going to pull the same thing on me as you did to Lincoln? Do you want me to stay in this hole of a town and work at the factory like you?” I’ve crossed a line with this, so I might as well go all the way. I’m already in trouble. “Are you going to force me to choose what you want instead of what I want?”
He barks out a laugh. “You have no idea what you're talking about.” His eyes harden. “I'm not going to let you continue to live in some fantasy world, believing in something that is never going to come true.”
Fire smolders inside me. I narrow my eyes and keep going. “Why doesn't he come around here anymore? Why doesn't Lincoln call? You don’t even talk about him!”
Dad speaks through his clenched teeth, “He left.” He sucks in a breath causing his nostrils to flare. “That was his choice.”
My volume kicks up a notch. “You forced him out. All he wanted to do was follow his own path, make his own choices.”
His eyes widen in surprise that I would know anything about what happened. It only confirms what I learned yesterday.
“Enough of this nonsense!”
“Is that what you're going to do to me? Are you going to push me out of the family if I don't let you make all my choices in life?” Fiery tears burn down my face. There’s more to Lincoln leaving, and I’ll find out sooner or later, but this is the right direction.
“Enough, Regan! I will not allow this half-cocked idea of being the next Jacques Cousteau.”
10
Regan
Dad’s words snake around my heart and constrict. Furious and hurt, I steady myself by grasping the table. “Half-cocked idea?” I can barely get the words out. “You are the one who introduced me to Jacques Cousteau,” I hiccup, take a breath, and keep pushing everything at him. “And I did kiss Lane. I like him, and he likes me—as more than just friends. We’ve been best friends practically our whole lives, and now you think he’s too old for me?”
The muscles in Dad’s jaw flex the same time his nostrils flare. “Everything I heard today, it’s true?” he yells.
The force of his words cause my head to flinch backward. Stupid, gossip-loving town. “I don’t know what you heard. Does the truth of what happened matter?” I’m sure he heard some story that I spent the day in bed with Lane. “Stacey Faniger is the one who started this crap. She hates Susanna. She hates me.”
“Susanna’s learning the hard way from her mistakes. And I’m not going to let you make the same ones.”
I cut him off before he can say anymore. “I live with her mistakes. Stacey reminds me every week. I know all about it! Why do you think I’ve never gone out with a boy before Lane? Why do you think I want to get as far away from this place as I can?”
He stands with his palms planted on the tabletop. “You’ve been sneaking around our backs? This is exactly what happened to Susanna. Now she has a child to take care of all on her own.”
“You like Lane. We’ve been best friends our whole life and now you think I’m not good enough—”
“At this rate, you’ll be pregnant before you get out of high school.” He stands straight, gripping his hips with his fingers. “You’re grounded! From your friends, trips, extra-curricular activities...” He jabs his finger in the air at me, shouting, “And you are not to see Lane. At all. Not at church. Not ever.”
I gasp. “No.” Tears pour down m
y cheeks. I need Lane. No one knows me, gets me, or cares about me like he does. Not even my own parents.
“And I will not allow your disrespect. Go to your room.”
I take a shaky breath, reloading to tell him I know he did the same thing to Lincoln.
Mom’s whimpers break through, stopping me before I say another word. Dad and I pause our arguing when her crying fills the air. Mom hadn’t made a sound, not that we would have noticed. Seeing her like this cracks my resolve to keep up the fight, and the rigidness of my shoulders falls.
Dad has mangled my dreams into a blade that stabs me in the back. It slices through my armor and flesh. It pierces my heart and twists an unrepairable hole that leaves me to bleed out all hope. Hope of his support. Hope of bringing our family back together. Hope for a future with Lane.
I draw in a deep breath, digging my nails into the palms of my hands. The words seethe out of me, “The day I turn eighteen, I’m moving out of this house.” Maybe I have to live in this house until I graduate, but I can’t stand to be here right now.
I turn from them both, grab my coat, and slip on my shoes.
“Don't you walk out that door!” Dad booms from beside Mom.
I glare at him and storm outside, crying angrily, and slam it behind me. I expect Dad to yell at me out the door to get back in there, but he doesn't.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't have a car or a phone. Lane is gone. Tobi lives too far away. I’m alone.
The roar I’d been holding in explodes across my tongue and out my open mouth.
Walking turns to running down the path, along the creek, over the bridge, along the rock road. The fire in my veins increases as my mind flies through the fight, through my unspoken thoughts, through the hurt, through the gossip, and through this change of heart Dad’s had on my future.
It is impossible to win an argument with him. What Dad doesn't know, is I have recently given thought to doing something other than marine science. Not for Dad's sake, though.
For Lane.
Maybe.
Now these thoughts are out of the dark and mixed up with everything that has happened in the last week. There's no way I can stay around here. I see now, that I have to get out from under Dad's thumb. The sooner the better.
When I stop running, I notice Ms. Pearson’s farm across the pasture and can't believe how far I've gone. Though the tears have dried up, I still don't know what to do. I look up at the sliver of moon in the dark sky to catch my breath.
Even if I don't want to go back home, I have nowhere else to go. The rock road that got me here is the path I follow back. Being outside at night doesn’t usually bother me, but this isn’t my backyard or Fox Creek. I pick up the pace and think about what’s waiting for me when I get home.
Why can't I keep my mouth shut? No. It needed to happen. It all had to come out, and I see now it was inevitable. Lincoln went through the same thing, only it was while he was already in college. I can't hold a grudge for him leaving anymore. Especially when I want to do the same thing.
The walls are closing in on me, and I'm not even home yet. So now what? I have two more years in this house. I'll see the rest of the gang at school, but Lane. I'm going to miss Lane.
At least I know where I stand.
On my own.
11
Regan
I sit on the edge of my bed, wipe the sleep out of my eyes, and then stumble to the bathroom. It’s so quiet in the house this morning. After I wash my hands and splash my face with water, I make my way down the hall and peek into the kitchen and living room to see if Mom’s here.
No sign of her.
“Mom?” I pad to the window and find the shed has no vehicles. They’re both gone.
I race for the phone and punch in Lane’s number. Standing tall and hopeful, I wait for him to answer. It goes to voicemail and my shoulders drop. “Hey.” My voice is rough, scratchy, almost foreign. “It’s Regan. I had a huge fight with Dad last night. Huge. He knows. About us. He says I can’t see you. Ever.” A few tears spill onto my cheeks. I sniff and wipe them away. “I can’t believe this. What are we going to do? I have to go get ready or I’ll miss the bus. Wish you were here.” I hang up and head back to the bathroom to blow my nose.
By the time I’m finished getting dressed, there’s no time to eat breakfast. I slip on my coat, grab my bag, and head outside. My stomach is queasy. Not sure if it’s from last night or because I haven’t eaten.
Flickers of the yellow bus flash through the leafless trees as I jog the rest of the way down my drive. The brakes screech as it comes to a stop. I take a breath and climb aboard. By the time we reach the school, I’m nearly at the gagging stage from all the weird stenches that seem to float around my bus.
The fresh air is enough to clear my nostrils and settle my stomach. When I walk through the gym, Haylee's focused on her phone at our usual spot. I keep my head down so no one can see my face as I climb the stairs.
“Hey.” I greet Haylee and sit beside her.
“Oh, hey. Let me finish reading his page.”
“Keep reading. I'm going to study.”
Haylee doesn't respond or look up.
I pull out my review sheet for math. This is a good exercise for me, I need to focus on school and not last night. We spend our time like this until the bell rings. Tobi's late. Cameron should be here any minute.
“Regan …” Haylee squishes her eyebrows together looking at my puffy eyes. “What's the matter, what happened?”
I look down at the concrete beneath my feet and frown. “I got into it with my dad last night.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Tired. Trying not to think about it, though. Can we wait until lunch? I need to get through my classes without falling apart.”
“Oh, sure. Of course.” She pulls me into a side hug, leaning her head against mine.
“Is it that bad, though? My face?” I hope it’s gotten better since I checked the mirror at home.
“You can tell you had a rough night, but it's not too bad. Only if I really look at your eyes. Just tell everyone you were up writing papers late last night. Anyone taking dual credits knows how many we're working on. I griped to Mom about it. You know what she said?”
I shake my head.
Haylee continues, “I warned you it was a lot of work.” She sighs. “Mom has no sympathy for us. Actually, I think she gets some kind of twisted pleasure out of it. Next time she’s marking papers, I’m going to watch to see if she gets that witchy smile on her face. If she does, I’ll know for sure she’s torturing us on purpose.” Haylee's little rant lightens the weight hanging around my neck and I can feel myself smile.
“What's all this?” Cameron’s face fluctuates between arched eyebrows and a scowl.
Haylee winks at me so Cameron can't see. “Oh, we're talking books. Have you ever read, The House with Seven Gables?”
Cameron shakes his head.
I stand, and so does Haylee, and we begin to make our way to our lockers.
“It's a really old book, classic.” Haylee continues. “You should read it, Cam. It's kind of a murder mystery.” Haylee does a good job of distracting Cameron from seeing my messed-up face.
I wonder where Tobi is. “Have you guys heard from Tobi?”
“No, I haven't,” Haylee replies.
Cam answers, “Nope.”
“Would someone text her and make sure everything’s okay?”
Haylee has her phone out texting as she speaks. “I will.”
Haylee grabs her stuff for first period and catches up to me in the hall. “Tobi’s just pulled up. Chores took longer this morning.” I shake my head in admiration of Tobi.
“What?”
I puff out a breath of air. “I'm always amazed at all Tobi does. Not only that, she's so … happy.”
Haylee chuckles. “I know, me too.”
From the time it takes to walk from my locker to my seat in class I have decided if Stacey starts anything with me,
I'm going to punch her right in the nose. Okay, I’m not going to physically punch her in the nose, but I’m not in the mood for her crap today. And imagining the look on her face if I reared back and let loose on her keeps me from thinking about last night.
Stacey keeps her snarky, gossip laced comments to herself and the next few classes are full of activities and worksheets helping me to focus on schoolwork and not home.
At lunch, we sit in the very back of the cafeteria. Away from as many ears as possible when I tell the gang what happened last night.
Tobi’s brows knit together. “You poured gasoline on the fire.”
“I know I should’ve just kept my mouth shut, but something inside me said, don't let him get away with that.” I shake my head. “I don't know what to do, now. I've never stood up to him like that. He usually shuts me down and it's over.”
“Shuts you down?” Cam frowns through a mouth full of spaghetti. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “He just says ‘that's enough’ and that's it. No discussion.” Cameron grunts in understanding.
Tobi asks, “So, you actually tried to argue with him? Did you think you were going to win?”
“I don't know. It was like I couldn't stop, I had to. I even threw Lincoln in his face and that's when it got really bad.”
“Oh, Regan.” Tobi knows I'm in big trouble now.
“I know. And, then he used my own words against me. I told you guys he's kind of been on my case to drop marine science. Now he's demanding it. He told me to”—I mimic Dad's voice and use my fingers for quotations—“give up this half-cocked idea of being the next Jacques Cousteau.”
Tobi sucks in a gasp of air. Her hand still covering her mouth, she says “I'm so sorry, Rey.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and squeezes. “Why is he changing his mind? He always acted like he thought it was a good idea.”