Fuck.
"That's why I don't want to be there," she says.
"I'm sorry, Luna." Guilt streaks Dad's expression. "I won't give you the lecture about how it's not you. I'll just say… I'm sure they love you and want you to be okay."
"Yeah. I'm sure. I just… can't really look at Mom right now. Allison. She's the one… it's, uh… do you mind if I go up to Daisy's room? I'll text. Make sure it's okay with her."
"You can take the spare," he says. "It's fine."
"You sure?" She looks to me. "And it's okay with Oliver?"
He doesn't let me answer. "Yes. It will be good for Oliver. To have company. In fact, we need to talk." He offers her a sincere smile. "Make yourself at home. I'll bring towels and blankets in a little while."
"Sure, yeah." She offers him a weak smile, then she moves away from the table.
Dad waits until she's all the way up the stairs to speak. "Are you going to say it? Or should I?"
Chapter Four
Oliver
Are you going to say it or should I?
Which of my fuckups does he want to discuss? I never know with Dad.
The drinking? The screwing? Some other sin I need to confess?
He places his hands on the table. Looks me in the eyes. Adopts a paternal tone. "You've barely left your room."
Since when does he care about that? "Okay."
"Are you talking to anyone?"
"I'm going to the court-appointed therapy."
"No, Oliver. Are you seeing your friends?"
No. My friends know me as the guy who brings a bottle to every occasion. Who fixes every drink. How am I supposed to hang out with them as the sober buzzkill? "I'm working a lot."
He studies me carefully. "It could be a good idea. To have someone around."
"A babysitter?"
"A friend."
I swallow hard. Yeah, in theory, a friendly roomie is a good idea. But in practice?
I already want to fuck Luna.
Having her across the hall—
Not helping me keep my dick in my pants.
Like he can read my mind, he asks, "Will it be a problem?"
"No." I can control myself. Even if it's hard.
"She likes you," he says.
"We're friends."
He doesn't buy it, but he doesn't press the issue. "I know it's not fair to remind you of that. With your sister dating your best friend."
It's not. I should complain. I should tell him to fuck off with the hypocrisy. But what good will that do? "Do you have a point?"
"I'm proud of you, for trying. But you're not going to make it if you white-knuckle your way through it."
That's his opinion. "It's been four weeks. I've made it so far."
He frowns. "Oliver…" He says my name in that tone of his. The one that means I'm a constant disappointment.
"Yeah?"
He makes that hmmm noise of his that means you're clearly full of it. "We have a deal. I won't tell Daisy what happened if you complete the program. Ten weeks of alcohol education. Ten weeks without a drink."
"I know." I thought I was numb to my father's disappointment—it's all I've earned for a long time—but I can barely stomach the way he looks at me. I can't take Daisy seeing me as a fuckup too.
Yes, I fucked-up. I did a very stupid thing. And now, I'm paying the price.
I don't need more on top of this bullshit.
Sobriety is enough torture.
Stupid classes about blood alcohol level and liver damage and healthy partying—
Seriously, it would be easier if I had to die for Daisy. Less painful.
"I want to make this easier for you. Not harder. Will this make it harder?" he asks.
He's giving me an out. The chance to say fuck this, I can only handle one temptation at a time.
The chance to kick her out when she needs comfort.
I remember my parents' divorce. If I could have gotten away from that. If I could have stayed somewhere else, away from their fights and anger and turbulence—
"No. It will be good. Having a friend around," I say.
He nods good. "And it won't be a problem?"
"No problem."
"She trusts you."
"I know."
"Don't take advantage of that trust," he says.
"I said it won't be a problem."
Whatever.
"Is there a question in here somewhere? Or is it just a lecture?"
"She's Daisy's best friend."
And he's the one who went through the ugly divorce that destroyed Daisy. But I don't throw that in his face every three minutes. "We're friends."
"She's going through something too. She needs a friend too."
How much of an asshole does he think I am?
"I know you promised your sister you'd stay here. I know you want to honor that. But you're only welcome here if you—"
"I know." If I stay sober through the rest of this fucking program. After that…
It's pretty clear he expects it to stick. But he hasn't issued any ultimatums yet. None of the stop drinking or else shit he tried a few years ago. I guess he learned from that mistake.