Chapter 134
Harper
Easton and Dad return from the patio and Easton looks like he's seen a ghost.

Or an entire colony or paranormal creatures.

He's pale and sweaty and I feel terrible for him.

I can't believe Dad hauled him outside.

Well, I can, but I can't imagine what he said to him.

Part of me wants to ask Easton when we get a minute alone, and part of me would rather never know to save myself the embarrassment.

“Are you all right?"

I whisper the moment he's at my side.

"No."

He wipes his forehead.

"I'll never recover from that conversation.

Ever."

I glance at my dad who's now standing next to my mom as she adds dressing to the salad.

The two of them smiling at each other, like they just checked the final item off their list.

"Was it that bad?"

“Let's put it this way ..."

He glances toward the oven.

“If there are buns in there, baking, don't serve me one."

He adjusts his shirt and I see the sweat marks under his arms.

"In fact, I don't know if I'll ever eat another bun again."

Oh God.

It was THAT bad.

"I'm going to go add ice to the water glasses,"

I declare, and quickly fill a large bowl with cubes and carry it into the dining room, Easton on my heels.

When I get us out of ear range, I say softly, "What did he say to you?"

He holds onto the back of a chair.

"Oh, he covered it all—birth control, pregnancy, not being allowed in your room or touching you under his roof, you going to college, dropping out of college because of me."

He pauses.

"I think I've covered most of it."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He shakes his head.

"That makes two of us."

I drop the ice into the glasses and move over to him.

He immediately takes a step back.

And then another.

“Easton?"

"I don't want him to think anything is happening in here."

"Seriously?"

bowl on

like that?*

weren't out there

you have no idea."

"Ugh."

want to kill my father,

come

Except ...

really mean

be off to

I will be, too.

those places aren't anywhere

can you grab

mother calls

ice being put in the glasses and

already

"Be right back,"

I hurry into the kitchen,

mysteriously gone, and Mom is

“Mom?"

knife still in her

“Mmm—hmm?"

know how to say this, but

has gotten the

Can we...

I don't know ...

on and never mention"—I nod toward the living room where the Christmas tree sits

the knife down, the noise making a clank against the

you're in a

her hands

off thin

have your phone

not breathing down your neck every time you leave

push it,

care where we end up, graduation needs

her a taste of her

Ryan shouts from the

floods through

look toward the entryway of the kitchen, where Easton is standing, he mouths, “Thank fucking God,’ telling me he feels the

“You're late,"

punching my brother in the arm

she was being

“Ryan!"

shouts, her face

"He's lying!"

look toward Mom and she's smiling, hugging Ryan

course, she doesn't get upset by

He's a son.

shenanigans don't apply

Ugh.

Again.

“How's it going?"

whispers as

about to raid your

he hasn't

"That good, huh?"

to fake an illness or drop the lasagna or set the kitchen sink on fire— something,

of

"I'm glad you didn't.

a horrible liar and not exactly a

the next time you'd see Easton,

laughing at

So does Sadie.

tonight and all the anxiousness I've been feeling

“What's so funny?"

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