“Xavier!” he scoffs, squeezing my shoulder blades affectionately.
“Sorry. Dad.” I correct myself.
I finish my juice and take my toast out to the car, and as we pull out of the driveway, I ask the question that’s on my mind.
“Are you sure you still want me to call you Dad? Now that we…you know…” I have no idea what to call it. “After the stuff we’ve been doing?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but gives me a funny look and checks his rearview mirror. When the way is clear, he pulls the car over to the curb and parks. He turns to face me, his expression serious and thoughtful.
“Hazel.” He lays both hands on my thigh and squeezes it affectionately. “Last night… I don’t regret a single thing that happened. You know, the way you said you feel about me, being in love with me, well…I feel the same way about you. I want so much more than what we have. I wish we could have so much more than what we have. But we can’t.” He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a breath before opening them again. “I am your dad. I’ll always be your dad. And I don’t think…well, I don’t think it would be good for either one of us if you talk about what happened, okay? Like, to Christine or anyone at school. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It hasn’t even occurred to me to tell anyone else about how I feel about him, so I don’t see why we can’t do anything we want together.
“I won’t,” I say with heartfelt sincerity. “But why can’t we have more? Why can’t we just have it both ways if no one knows about it?”
“Oh, honey,” he exhales, and reaches for me, pulling me in against him. He cups my cheeks and kisses my hair, my temple, and then my mouth, pressing firm, fast kisses to my lips. “You don’t know how badly I want that. But it’s not that simple. It’s…complicated, what’s happening between us.”
I laugh. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
He kisses me again and then rests his forehead against mine, his hands holding my head. “I guess not.” He sighs and turns back towards the steering wheel, and I smooth down my hair as he stares out the front window. “I’m not really sure what to do, to be honest. I just know that…for now, at least, this has to be our little secret.”
“Of course.” I fold my hands in my lap and press my knees together, feeling happy…I think. If we can be together in secret, that’s better than not being together at all.
Christine and I are standing by our lockers when Kye and Eric saunter up.
“Ooh.” Kye tugs my braid. “This rope coming out of the back of your head would be perfect for holding onto if we were doing it doggy-style, Holland.”
I snap my head away, my braid pulling for a second before he lets go, and glare back at him. Eric bursts into a loud guffaw. “Fuck off, Kye,” I say irritably.
“Hey, don’t be like that, baby,” he croons with a grin. Christine, who’s been crushing on Eric since they were in the eighth grade together, laughs loudly as if she’s in on the joke.
“What do you guys want?”
“We want you nerds to lighten up and come cut class with us.”
I roll my eyes. “Kye, you’re so rude.”
“Kidding!” he says quickly, shifting his tone and demeanour. “I’m just teasing. We want you smart girls,” he makes a flourishing gesture with his hand, to more laughter from Eric, “to come with us.”
“No,” I answer, just as Christine says, “Where?”
Ugh. Her eyes are bright and shiny with interest.
The boys exchange a smile and Eric answers, “We’re going to get high.” He raises his forefinger and his thumb to his mouth, as if he’s holding a joint.
No.
Christine looks at me and shrugs, her eyes gleaming with hope. “We only have Vocal Music,” she says.
“But we have another class after,” I counter. “I can’t skip both.”
“We’re all in Drama final period,” Kye points out. “You’ll actually perform better in Drama if you’re high.” He and Eric snort, and even Christine grins, and I get the sinking feeling that I’m on the losing side of the battle. If I don’t go, they’ll talk about how uptight and weird I am the whole time.
“Fine.” I open my locker to put my books back, trying to ignore my reservations.
We head out of the school, nodding confidently to Mrs. Minic, our math teacher, who eyes us suspiciously.
“Free period!” Christine sings out to her with a wave.
We walk around to the parking lot at the back of the main building, and with a click from his key fob, Kye’s Jeep beeps and flashes its headlights.
“Are we driving?” If I get caught, for any of this, Xavier will kill me.