Except it took only one phone call from Angie to shatter the illusion. I’d been ignoring her since before I got beaten up and still was, which meant she’d taken to calling my father. I sort of felt bad putting him in the middle.
She called to complain, of course, about my staying with him. I could tell by my dad’s face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, dropping his head like he was fighting off a headache. I knew and felt a similar headache induced by Angie.
He tried to keep his voice low as he sat at the kitchen table, but I got the gist of a familiar argument. They were nine out of ten times about me. I sneakily turned down the TV so I could listen, which turned into a toxic idea. Knowing Angie was forcing my dad’s hand enraged me. She could be such a manipulative, control freak.
I wanted to storm into the kitchen and hang up on the phone.
Instead, I sat on the couch, clenching my fists until the call ended. Dad sat at the table for a full minute in silence, presumably taking a moment to compose himself. I’d be cussing her out and throwing shit.
I don’t know he remained so chill.
“You want some pancakes?” he asked, emerging out of the kitchen and leaning up against the doorframe.
“Was that Angie?” I asked from where I curled up on the couch.
“Your mother was checking up on you,” he declared.
I didn’t correct him. “You don’t have to lie to me or pretend everything is okay. I’m not five anymore.”
His expression registered surprise before settling back into something like resignation. “Protecting you is habit. And it doesn’t matter if you’re forty, I’ll still want to shelter you.”
My spine straightened. “Does she want me to go home?”
“She misses you, Josie,” he said like he actually believed that.
Biggest crock of shit.
I pursed my lips.
“She told me you’ve been living with that boy,” he added coolly.
I rolled my eyes. She would try to pit my dad against me. How funny that I couldn’t stomach calling Angie “Mom,” but I couldn’t stop referring to Easton as my father. “It’s complicated. He’s a friend.”
“Your mom told me he is bad news. That you got a detention because of him.”
“She would say that. I’m not comfortable at home. Carter is the one you should be concerned with. Not Brock.” It wasn’t much of an explanation for why such a rift had been created between Angie and me or why I refused to stay in that house.
Dad studied me carefully. “If you’re in some kind of trouble, Josie, let me help you.”
It was too late. There was nothing he could do.
My body slowly started to heal, dampening the pain to manageable aches. All good things, but it also meant that I’d have to go back to school come Monday. A task I loathed as much as going to the dentist.
I hadn’t seen Brock since the first night, since the Elite concocted one of their takedown schemes. My fear was confirmed over the last few days. No calls. No texts. No middle of the night surprise visits. I hated to admit it, but dammit. I missed him. That stupid, cocky crooked smirk. The depth those ocean blue eyes that always saw too much. How his arm always wrapped around me in the middle of the night.
Brock might not know it, but in sleep, he was a cuddler.
Fynn, Micah, and even Grayson stopped by to see me after school, dropping off lecture notes so I could keep up with my schoolwork. The Academy was known for moving at an accelerated pace. The last thing I needed was to fall behind… well, more than I already had. The Elite had been an unexpected distraction.
If Dad thought it odd that my friends were four hot guys, he didn’t say anything.
I peppered them each day with questions, hungry for information about Ava, Carter, and Brock. They weren’t always forthcoming, and I could tell talking about Brock and Ava made them super uncomfortable, which gave me cramps. Not the period kind.
But the real information came from Mads. She became my eyes and ears at school while I was out. I heard all about how Ava and her band of bitches were back sitting at the Elite table, Ava assuming her position on Brock’s lap. She couldn’t be that dumb in thinking he wanted her back.
From what Mads said, she was.
I guessed the Elite were right. She was disgustingly desperate to be on top. For someone who had never been popular nor cared to be, it was unfathomable to me how someone could go to such extremes to be the most envied girl at the Academy.