EMMIE
“Good afternoon, sunshine,” Dad sings when I shuffle through the kitchen sometime before midday the next morning.
I grunt some kind of inaudible reply as I make my way over to the coffee machine, turning my back on both him and Piper, who are sitting at the island.
“Friday night’s party that good, huh?”
My entire body tenses.
“Something like that,” I mutter, reaching for a mug and placing it on the little stand.
“Emmie,” Dad warns. “You’re meant to be—”
“A teenager?” I ask, cutting him off.
“Behaving,” he corrects.
“Did you have to pick me up from the police station or the hospital?” I ask, resting my back against the side and raising a brow at him.
“There’s plenty of trouble you can get in without ending up in either of them.”
Don’t I fucking know it.
“I’ve got it, Dad. You don’t need to worry.”
He stares at me with a blank expression.
“Look, no bruises,” I gesture to my mostly covered body. “And,” I hold my hands up for Piper to see, “I even got my nails fixed.”
She nods, a smile playing on her lips.
“They look great.”
“You two want another coffee?” I ask as a peace offering.
“Sure.” Dad pushes both of their mugs toward me, and once mine has finished, I put a new pod in and make them each a new one of their favourite. “Do you have plans for the day?”
“Uh…” I hesitate. I do have plans, but not ones I can tell him.
The guilt punch to the chest I’m becoming all too used to threatens to knock the wind out of me as I prepare to lie once more.
“Just heading to the gym, then meeting the girls.”
“The gym you’ve got a job at?” he asks.
“That’s the one.” I knew telling Piper the other night would make it back pretty swiftly.
I’d told her the truth… mostly. I just couldn’t tell her the actual name of the gym, because Mickey’s Place would ring more than a few alarm bells. So I was forced to tell her it was the new place that’s opened up on the other side of town. Somewhere they’re both unlikely to visit, giving me a little bit of breathing space.
“I know I was the one who said about getting a job, but I don’t want it to take focus away from school, kiddo.”
“It won’t, Dad. Plus, I need something other than school. Somewhere with normal people.”
“Are you suggesting your friends aren’t normal?” Dad asks, amusement crinkling his eyes.
“You’ve met them. What would you say?”
“Fair enough,” he mutters, taking his fresh coffee from me when I hand it over. “We’re leaving at one o’clock tomorrow and not a second later.”