I shake my head, but I can’t deny it, and the lump forming in my throat only confirms it. My mom used to tell me all the time that I was talking too loudly, to keep it down, that I needed to get off the phone or that my friends and I had to go to the backyard. Of course, once outside, we would use our outdoor voices and talk that much louder, even when we were teens. There’s just something about being outside that makes you talk louder. I swear.
Out of all of us, I was the loudest. Father’s not lying about that.
I just wave to him. “You aren’t going to come into my dorm room anymore, and you sure aren’t getting your hands on my laptop again. You aren’t going to mess with anything of mine, related to school or otherwise.”
“So you say.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Or else?”
I smile widely. “Maybe because…” I lean in close and only mouth this. “I’m a good liar.”
I straighten, wave to him that morphs into flipping him the bird, and leave, my heart pounding all the while.
I can’t believe I did that.
I doubt anything I said got through to him, but I feel better for having gotten some of that off my chest. I'm going to have to talk to Lauren, though. And Rob. Fuck, do I need a drink. This is all way too stressful for me. I don't know how I can handle all of this, but I'm going to have to try.
Unfortunately, my car hadn't started earlier. I'm not sure what's wrong with it, but that's a problem for another day, thankfully, because Robyn, bless her, lent me her car, which was how I got to the restaurant, and I hightail it back to college, not wanting my father to follow me, not that he doesn't know how to get there since he's already set foot on campus. I drop off the car, give my regrets to Robyn that I can't stay and chat but promise her a phone call at the very least but hopefully breakfast tomorrow morning, and make my way over to my room.
Lauren’s there. She looks up from her computer as I walk in.
"I don't want to get into details, but my father's bad news, and he's not allowed in the room," I tell her in a rush, and I pull up one of the few family pictures I have on my phone. "That's him."
“That your brother?”
“Yes, but focus on my dad.”
“I won’t let him in. No worries, but, ah… I know you said you won’t go into details, but…”
“My parents are divorcing, and it’s not pretty. It’s more like all of us are divorcing him for what it’s worth.”
“Gotcha. Wow, that must be really hard.”
“Tell me about it,” I mumble.
“Are you doing all right? The past couple of days…”
“I’m just going through a rough patch. That’s all.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No. Thanks, but it’s stuff I have to get through. And I will. I just don’t want to bother you any.”
“This is your room too.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to be worried. I know you have tests and homework and all of that.”
“Yes, but if you need the room to decompress or whatever—”
“I’m not going to ask you to leave the room or anything like that. I can handle myself.”
Lauren smiles sympathetically. “If you ever want to talk about things…”
“I appreciate it. I, ah, I’m gonna get going. Just make sure that my father—”
“I won’t let him in.”