I want to tell her it’s not the best time, but I don’t want to send her off in a car with Malcolm either. She shouldn’t have to spend any more time than necessary with those assholes. And anyway, I can’t let Theo ruin everything for me.
“No, it’s fine,” I sigh, gathering the determination to make the best of it. “It’s better this way actually. Extra support for me. If you’re still okay with joining us, that is.”
“As long as Malcolm and Liam don’t find out,” she smirks. “But then again, if they knew I was here, Theo wouldn’t be their only issue.”
I laugh lightly, but it is a scary thought. It’s still too easy to forget that she’s taking a risk by being around us, just as we feel like we are with her.
“It’s like Romeo and Juliet!” I jest dramatically as we unbuckle our seat belts. “Let’s hope this dinner has a better ending.”
“Let’s aim for no suicides…or deaths at all,” Emmett adds, still looking wounded by Bridgett’s presence.
We step inside the warmth and aroma of my mom’s freshly cooked food. Brendan is helping her in the kitchen while Theo reads a paper at the table.
“Hello everyone,” I announce, eyeing my bio-dad with hatred. “Mom, I hope you don’t mind, I…”
“Hello!” my mom shouts enthusiastically as she turns to see Bridgett standing there. She doesn’t even bother letting me finish my sentence before running over and giving her a big hug.
“I…invited my friend Bridgett to join us,” I chuckle as I notice how happy she looks. I knew she was concerned about me not having any girlfriends, but I think I underestimated just how much.
“Well…I think you must be the first girl Ophelia has had over since we moved here,” she gushes. “This is my husband, Brendan. And this is Ophelia’s dad…Theo.”
I notice my mom tense up slightly as she turns to introduce Theo, but she’s quick to smile and play it off before returning to the kitchen as if it’s all completely normal. Theo sits proudly at the table with that same old annoying grin, like the cat that ate the canary. Always looking
so pleased with himself as if each time he talks his way back into this house it’s like summiting a mountain.
“Can I help with anything?” Bridgett offers, but my mom shoos her away to sit at the table and make herself comfortable.
Emmett and I take our seats next to her, and I’m left sitting across from Theo not knowing what to say. I can’t hide my discomfort or anger as I glare at him, but he seems completely unmoved by it.
“So, what brings you here this time, Dad?” I ask with a sarcastic emphasis on the title.
“Oh, you know,” he leans back arrogantly. “Just wanted to check in and see how things were going.”
“They make these things called telephones you know,” I snap back.
“Let’s eat!” my mom announces quickly as she and Brendan bring an assortment of dishes over to the table.
Emmett and Bridgett seem relieved for the brief interruption as they glance tensely back and forth between Theo and me.
“Thank you, Lala. This looks delicious as always,” Theo proclaims as she heaps food onto his plate. “Ophelia, your mom tells me that you’ve been accepted to quite a few schools already.”
“Every single one she’s applied to,” Emmett boasts, shooting me a wink.
“With scholarship offers,” I add.
“And have you thought any more about my offer to help pay for your living expenses?” he asks snidely, but in a way I think only I can detect. “I hear you’re top choice so far is the one in Southern California. I live there for a time, you know. That city is expensive. And jobs are really hard to come by.”
“I’m aware,” I murmur. I see Emmett freeze in the corner of my eye, but I try not to look at him. Instead, I glance up to my mom, silently scolding her for telling Theo something like that.
“Southern California?” Emmett asks. “You didn’t tell me about that one. Or that it was your top choice.”
I drop my fork and turn to him, feeling ashamed. “I…I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I meant to…I…I just…”
“And what would you do in SoCal, Emmett?” Theo shoots out abruptly, intentionally stirring the pot. “I know you didn’t want to come work for me so that you’d be free to follow Ophelia.”
Emmett stabs back into his food bitterly. “I don’t know,” he sulks. “I obviously haven’t had any time to think about it.”
“I really haven’t decided anything yet,” I defend with an awkward laugh, looking around the table, begging for someone to diffuse this.