by Jo Cassidy
He honked at a car that flew past us. "They need to slow down." He chanced a glance in my direction. He rarely took his eyes off the road. "You’re keeping your grades up, I hope."
"Of course, Daddy. Still have mostly straight A's." With almost all my spare time being spent locked up in my room, I had nothing else to do except homework and reading. Well, and hang out with Noah. But he usually helped me study.
"That's my girl," he said as he pulled in front of the pizza place. He rolled down the window, placed his palm on the outside of the door, and stuck his head out, making sure he was perfectly between the lines. He'd never once had to correct his parking job, yet he always checked.
When my hand slid to the handle, Daddy snapped his fingers. "Wait for me, angel."
I’d hoped he’d grow out of the 'opening the door for me' phase when I started high school. He didn't. I waited for him to come around and open the door for me. He swept out his arm. "A prince always gets the door for the princess."
Pointing out the fact that I'd never have a real prince would cause him to take us back home, so I let it go and smiled sweetly at him. It was his favorite smile of mine. It was also my most acted and forced.
He beat me to the door and held it open. The yummy smell of garlic and pizza washed over me. Daddy casually took a menu from the hostess stand on the way to a table, not making eye contact with anyone. He found a booth near the window so he could still see the van. We were supposed to wait to be seated, but Daddy liked to pick his own spot.
I tried to focus on Daddy, but fear crept back in and paralyzed me. I'd been so stupid by leaving the journal in my backpack. I should have put it back under the mattress as soon as Daddy had left my room. But I’d been too scared to be caught out of bed again.
The waiter strolled up to our table, taking me from my thoughts. He retrieved a pad of paper and pen from the black apron tied around his waist. "Hey – Cora, right?"
My cheeks flared. I balled my hands into fists under the table and hoped Daddy didn't read too much into it. I forced myself to look at the waiter and tried to pinpoint how I knew him. He went to my school. He had his red hair in a fohawk. I licked my lips. "Yes."
His blue eyes almost matched mine. The waiter smiled brightly, revealing his straight teeth. "I sure hope your French is better than mine. I'm barely passing."
It hit me. He sat two rows over in my French class. Even though Jenna loved to talk about boys, the big guy next to me in class blocked my view of the waiter, so he had never made it into our conversations.
"She's fluent." Daddy had his jaw clenched tight.
"Really?" The waiter gently tapped my arm sending a jolt of energy through me. "Why are you in the class then?"
“A language class is required,” I said quietly. I kept my hands balled into fists so I wouldn't rub my arm where he'd touched me. The only guy who'd ever touched me was Daddy. What would it have felt like if my sleeves were rolled up and he’d touched my skin? “I know Spanish and German as well.”
Black clouds soared into Daddy's eyes, and I squirmed in my seat. He didn't like anyone touching me. "Aren't you a little young to be working?"
The waiter chuckled, clearly not noticing Daddy's anger. "I’ve been working here for years. Parents own the place. I actually turned sixteen at the beginning of the year." He wiped his hand on his apron and held it out to Daddy. "I'm Brendon."
I didn't think Daddy would shake his hand, but he surprised me by taking Brendon's hand and giving it a firm shake. The image burned in my mind. The two of them, locking eyes, Daddy trying to peer deep into Brendon’s soul, and Brendon finally registering that maybe Daddy wasn’t very nice. Even though my journal was gone, I’d have to sketch the moment later that night. Otherwise it would stalk my dreams.
When Brendon pulled his hand away, he shook it out. Daddy had probably held it real tight.
"I'm Cora's father, Mr. Snow."
"Nice to meet you, sir." Brendon flexed his hand. "What can I get for you tonight? If I could offer a suggestion . . .”
"No." Daddy folded the menu. "We'll take a large pizza, half pepperoni, half pepperoni and mushrooms."
Brendon's eyes flashed to mine as he took the menu from Daddy's hands. He stuffed the menu under his arm and took a step back, creating a distance between us, and scribbled down our order. "Anything to drink?"
Daddy relaxed now that Brendon was farther away from me.
I needed a drink badly since the whole interaction had left my mouth dry. "Is it okay if I get water?"
My eyes were on Daddy, but Brendon answered. "Sure. Would you like a lemon?"
I hated all things sour. They made my insides churn. I slowly shook my head, my focus sliding to the table. "No, thank you."
Daddy had somewhat composed himself. "I'll have a beer. Anything on tap."
"I'm going to have to see an I.D." Brendon's wide eyes said he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. "I mean, it's just policy and . . .”
Daddy surprised me again by smiling and pulling out his wallet. "I'm glad you take your job seriously, Brendon." Something in the way Daddy said his name made me flinch. He flashed him his driver's license. "That's an important skill to have. Remember that."
"Yes, sir." Brendon fumbled to put his pad and pen back in his apron pocket before he hurried away, tripping a little over his feet.
Daddy's smile disappeared, and his hand landed on my knee under the table. He squeezed my kneecap with his thumb and pointer finger. "How well do you know him?"
It took everything in me not to flinch. Daddy always strongly grasped my knee when he wanted the truth from me. "Not well. We have French together. That's it."
"Do you talk in class?"
"No, Daddy. This is the first time I've ever spoken to him, I swear." He squeezed harder, and I held in a cry. He hated that word. "I promise. I meant to say, I promise."
"Are you going to talk to him at school?" The storm in his eyes hadn't calmed.
I shook my head. "No, Daddy. I promise."
He released my knee. "That's my good girl."
Brendon cautiously approached the table, setting down an ice water in front of me. He placed a straw next to the cup. "The bartender will be bringing your beer, Mr. Snow. I'm not allowed to handle alcohol."
Daddy's smile was back. "Your parents run a fine establishment here, young man."
A smile slowly landed on Brendon's lips. "I'll be sure to tell them that." He left again, not daring to look my way.
If Daddy was this mad about a guy from my school knowing my name, I needed to find my journal soon, or I’d end up with more than a sore kneecap. Daddy couldn't find out what I had done.
Chapter 4
I hardly slept. Fear and shame attacked my dreams all through the night, practically strangling me. Drawing the encounter of Brendon and Daddy hadn’t shook the image from my mind like I’d hoped. Brendon had been killed in a few of my dreams, with Daddy making me watch the entire ordeal.
My dreams always ended with everyone finding out our secret and Daddy being thrown in jail, leaving me all alone in the cold world. A couple dreams, though, left me six feet under – a fate I dreaded.
When Daddy dropped me off at school in the morning, I had to do my best to keep my eyes open and alert. He had his hand on the steering wheel, gripping a little too tight. "Remember all our rules."
I ran my fingers over Husky’s soft fur. "Of course, Daddy."
He kissed my forehead, and my fist engulfed Husky. "Have a great day."
"You, too." The anxiety from my missing journal ate away at me. My shaking hands swung my backpack over my shoulder, smacking the bag into Daddy's coffee. It fell from the cup holder, smashing onto the floor of the van, the black liquid creating a river of deceit.
His whole body tightened in anger. "Watch what you're doing." He picked up the cup and shook out his hand, grimacing in pain. He pointed to the glove compartment. "Napkins. Now."
I scanned Husky, making sure he hadn't
been caught in the crossfire. "What?"
His hand wrapped tightly around my arm. “Napkins.”
I needed to remain calm. Nerves got me in trouble. With a deep breath, I opened the compartment, pulled out some napkins he kept stacked neatly in the corner, and placed them over the stream of coffee going under Daddy's seat. "I apologize, Daddy. It was terribly foolish of me to be so clumsy."
A car behind the van honked, wanting us to get out of the way. I kept my focus on Daddy. He acted like he hadn’t heard a thing. He took some napkins from me and wiped off his hands, making sure to get every crevice. Each movement was deliberate and controlled. His deep breaths slowed until the anger had been washed from his face. He folded the napkins into fourths and then placed them in the trash bag that hung from the dashboard. "It's okay, angel. We all have these moments. Please be more careful in the future."
"I will, Daddy. I promise."
I waited for him to smile, to let me know everything was okay. If I hurried out, he'd know I was nervous about something. So, I smiled patiently until his eyes locked with mine and the storms retreated.
"Get to class," he said. "We wouldn't want you to be late."
With another smile, I got out of the van like our secret remained safely locked away. Daddy couldn't be suspicious. Most of my life had been spent acting, so it was easier than I thought.
In first and second period, I glanced around the room. There weren't any students who looked like they knew my secret or had read my journal. They all ignored me as usual.
During break, I walked over to the library. I checked the spot where I’d been the day before, all the shelves and even underneath them, but my journal was nowhere to be seen. I hated what I had to do next, but it needed to be done. Every possibility needed to be ruled out.
Licking my lips, I slowly approached the counter where the librarian sat comfortably in her chair, reading a travel book on perfect destination spots for single ladies.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I cleared my throat. “Excuse me.”
The librarian set down her book, rested her reading glasses in her gray, curly hair, and joined me at the counter. Her soft eyes sent a small wave of calm through me. “Yes, dear?”
I clasped my hands on top of the counter, fiddling with my fingers. “Did someone happen to find a book in here yesterday?”
Her smile reached all the way up to her eyes. “Why, sweetie, we have lots of books in here.”
I silently scolded myself for the stupid question. “You know, a book kind of like a journal.”
“Like a journal, or an actual journal?” The laughter behind her eyes distracted from the wrinkles on her face.
“An actual journal.”
She patted my hand, the cold surprising. “Sorry, dear, but nothing has been turned in. If you’d like, I could take down your name, and I can send word if we find it.”
That was the last thing I wanted. “That’s okay. It’s probably at home. Thanks for your help.” I hurried away before she could ask any other questions, and then hid behind a bookshelf so I could collect myself.
The library was my favorite place at school. I loved the peace and quiet, and the smell of books. In my solitude, I read every book Daddy brought home for me. All the characters were my friends. Sometimes I'd stand in front of a row of books at the library and breathe in the scent. It calmed my nerves and wrapped a blanket of security around me, reminding me of my bedroom.
"Hey, did you see Cora walk in here?" Brendon's smooth voice came from around the corner. He said my name so different than Daddy did. It didn’t have an edge attached to it.
"Who?" It was a girl’s voice I didn't recognize.
As quietly as I could, I tiptoed down the aisle and peered around the corner. Brendon stood there with his hands stuffed in his jeans' pockets. He wore a T-shirt that appeared to have some logo, but I wasn't familiar with it. Daddy didn't like me listening to music or watching TV.
"Cora," Brendon said to the girl. "She's a little shorter than me, hair is always in a braid, blue eyes, beautiful smile."
Warmth spread through my body causing sweat to form on my palms. He thought I had a beautiful smile?
The girl shrugged. "Didn't see anyone like that."
Brendon thanked her and then walked in my direction. I quickly went down the aisle and hid behind a book cart. I had hoped Daddy had scared him off the night before. We couldn't talk or become friends. Daddy wouldn't allow it.
I stayed in my position until the bell rang to go to class. Keeping my eyes on my watch, I waited until I had one minute before the tardy bell would ring and then bolted out of the library.
My lab partner's eyes didn't waver from me when I arrived in Earth Science. The bell rang the second I sat down.
"Why do you look so out of breath?" Kendra asked. She had her pink hair in a messy ponytail. Daddy would never allow me to dye my hair – not that I wanted to. Not really.
My fingers drummed along my backpack that sat in my lap. We never talked about anything other than our class assignments. Why was she suddenly curious about me?
"Hello?" Kendra waved her hand in front of my face, all her rings clinking together. Her blue nail polish had started to chip.
I focused on Husky. "I ran so I wouldn't be late."
She gave a little huff. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be late to class."
No. But then I’d be splattered on my teacher's radar, and that couldn't happen.
"What is that you're playing with?" She reached over and almost touched Husky.
I snapped him away and lowered my backpack to the ground, far away from her. "Nothing."
She held up her hand. "Wow. It was just a question. No need to be all testy. Are you on your period are something?"
Heat climbed up my neck to my cheeks. Daddy said I couldn't talk about my body or any of its functions with anyone other than him.
The teacher passed out a quiz, so I pulled out a pencil and ignored Kendra. All through the test, I couldn't help but wonder if she had taken my journal. She'd never shown any interest in me and suddenly – the day after my journal disappeared – she started asking questions. Personal ones. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I added it to my list of possibilities.
When I arrived in fourth period, Julien was already in his seat at our table. He tapped my arm. Why were guys touching me all of a sudden? "You look flushed. Rough day?"
I nodded.
He had his shirt buttoned all the way to the top like me, but it was stylish on him and suited his persona. His cologne wafted toward me. I had no idea what kind it was, but it always reminded me of one of Daddy's clients, an ex-football player who constantly wanted his piano tuned and would give me a stick of gum every time I went with Daddy to his appointment.
Julien had knocked over my backpack the day before when we started our assignment, but he put it back up right away and apologized. My eyes had never left my backpack during the scuffle, so I wasn’t sure if Julien saw the journal or not. If he had, why would he want it?
"So, I forgot to do my portion last night." Sydney plopped down in her seat on the other side of me. Her fingers flew across her phone, completely unaware of what was happening around her. No way she knew I had a journal or would be interested in reading it.
"No surprise there," Dalton said, sitting down. Since he rarely spoke or made eye contact with anyone in class, he didn't strike me as the type who would steal something from my backpack. Or maybe it was all an act.
Sydney continued to text with one hand while twirling her long hair with her other. "I hate going to the library. It's full of weird people and the homeless."
Julien laughed. "Have you even been inside a library before?"
"They're nice," I said. "For people who know how to read." It had left my mouth before I could think it through.
"Oh!" Julien held up his hand for me to high-five. "Nice one!"
Daddy didn't like me touching anyone, especially boys. But he wasn't there
to stop me, and Julien was just being nice. So, I slapped his hand.
He shook it out. "Not so hard, Cora."
"Sorry." I straightened my cuffs. "First time."
Sydney stopped texting long enough to look up at me. "That was the first time you've high-fived someone?" Her twisted hair stayed frozen in the air.
They couldn't know I was truly different from most teenagers. I smiled at her. "Yeah, seeing as it went out of style in the nineties." Thank goodness I read the newspaper that Daddy had delivered to our front porch every day. I could keep up with what was happening in the world. At least in the sections Daddy allowed me to read.
"She's on fire today!" Julien shoved me playfully on the arm. For a split second, I forgot about my worries.
Then Dalton spoke up. "How have you never high-fived someone?" He brushed some of his shaggy hair out of his face.
My smile faded from my lips. I reached down for Husky and stroked him under the table, willing myself to stay calm and answer rationally. "Why do you care?"
"It's just weird." Dalton twirled his pen around his fingers, his intense glare on me.
"Dalt, you're the president of the weirdos," Julien said. "You shouldn't be talking."
The pen dropped from Dalton’s hand, and he flushed. "Whatever."
The rest of class, Dalton kept glancing over at me. He normally kept to himself with his eyes unfocused on his desk. Had he taken my journal? Had he read any of it? If he knew the truth, wouldn't he have said something by now? But he probably couldn't have read the entire journal that fast.
Everyone looked suspicious to me.
During P.E., I faked a sickness and told the gym teacher I needed to go to the nurse's office. Instead, I stayed in the locker room, out of sight, but still in visual range of my locker. Maybe the person who had stolen it would put it back. Or maybe I'd find someone wandering around, breaking into other people's lockers.
None of that happened.
That left only one more class. The one with Jenna and Brendon.
Chapter 5
A pink envelope sat on my desk. Cora was scrolled in blue glitter ink on the outside. I didn't recognize the handwriting. With a thud, my backpack dropped to the ground next to my desk. My hands trembled toward the envelope, afraid to open it. The paper in my journal had been pink. Daddy bought me a bunch of glitter gel pens so I could color for him, and I had been using the blue one in my current journal.