My brain is scrambling, trying to keep up with what he’s saying. “How do you know?”
“I’m glad you’re not trying to deny it. You’re doing the right thing.” He hesitates only for a moment. Long enough for me to realize tears are running down my face. “I have access to your iCloud. I logged in and saw the inappropriate photos.”
I briefly close my eyes, my heart sinking fast. I remember the photos I took of Crew that Saturday night. With his shirt off and my lip-gloss imprint on his chest. Much later that night, after we’d had sex twice and we were about to fall asleep, I took one last photo of the two of us lying in bed, my head resting on his naked shoulder, our gazes sleepy, our smiles full of satisfaction as I took a selfie. I wanted to document the moment. The night I gave my virginity to Crew.
And my father saw all of it. Even the photos I took Saturday afternoon of us downtown. The decorations. Crew sitting across from me at lunch.
None of those photos were meant for anyone else’s eyes but mine. And Crew’s.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Daddy asks when I remain quiet.
“What am I supposed to say? I can’t defend myself. You’ve seen all the evidence.” I swallow hard. “I didn’t know you had access to my iCloud.”
“That’s clear,” he retorts. “From everything I saw on your most recent camera roll, I almost regret looking.”
That’s false. I’m sure he doesn’t regret it, since he finally caught me in a lie. Like he’s been hoping to catch me in one all of these years. Why else would he need access to my iCloud account?
Because he doesn’t trust me. He’s never fully trusted me after I did something so incredibly stupid when I was twelve.
Well, I’m not twelve anymore. I’d like to think I’m smarter than I was. I’m definitely stronger.
I think.
“You’re coming home now,” he demands. “Tonight.”
“Daddy! I can’t. I have finals to complete. I’m writing a paper right now!”
“I’ll call the school and you can do everything online. I’ll tell them it’s a family emergency—which it is,” he says. “Don’t argue with me, Wren. You’re coming home early.”
“Daddy, please. Listen to me. I have to finish this paper and study for the final. It’s all happening tomorrow. It’s my first class since we’re on a finals’ schedule this week. How about I come home after that? The rest of my classes, I’m pretty much done.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I rest my head on my desk, anxiously waiting for his answer. It’s not a lie. I do need to complete everything I listed.
But I also need a chance to explain to Crew what’s happening. He deserves to know.
To know my father most likely hates him.
“I’ll send a car to pick you up at noon. You better be on time with that driver, Wren. I’ll make sure he reports to me,” my father says, his voice firm.
“I’ll pack tonight,” I say, my voice shaky, my head aching.
So is my heart.
“And stay away from Lancaster. That boy is trouble. I’ve done my research. His brothers are always trying to steal my clients. I wouldn’t doubt that’s why he’s getting with you. He’s just using you to get closer to me, to help his brothers,” Daddy explains.
I lift my head, anger suffusing me, though I keep quiet.
The world doesn’t revolve around him. Something he still doesn’t quite get. Not everyone gets close to me or my mother in order to get to him. It doesn’t work like that. Not always.
“Okay,” I mumble, not meaning it.
“We’ll discuss this further tomorrow.” He blows out a harsh breath. “I’m so disappointed in your choices, Pumpkin. You were on the right path, and you’ve ruined everything.”
“Having sex doesn’t ruin your life, Daddy,” I bite out, annoyance filling me.
“Don’t talk back,” he snaps. “Who are you right now?”
Before I can tell him, I’m your daughter, he ends the call.
And I burst into tears.
FORTY-THREE
CREW
I wait for her outside the front of her dorm, unreasonably keyed-up. Anxious.
Words I don’t normally use to describe how I’m feeling.
I tried texting with Wren last night, but she wasn’t very responsive. Even distant. She blamed it on the paper she finished and all the studying she was doing for the history final, but I don’t know.