Chapter 39 Home Sweet Home
Thirty-Nine
Home Sweet Home
After, the judge adjourned for what would likely be the second to last day of the trial. The prosecution had rested their case, and Gray had decided not to put my father on the stand.
Before Gray left, I pulled him aside. “Do you plan on granting an interview to the media?”
“Hadn’t thought about it. Should I?”
“Part of the reason I’ve been coming to court is that I’m done hiding.
But the thought of having to tell an entire dorm about who I am, or even people in my classes, is too much.
I saw a reporter and a camera operator this morning in the atrium, and I realized that being on camera with you and my family might be the best way to let it be known and be done with it. ”
He squinted. “Interesting thought.” Gray patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll run it past your dad, but I’m sure he’d be on board.”
Eric and I stayed at my parents’ house that night. My mom made her famous Valentine’s chocolate and cherry layered cake in the shape of a heart. I hadn’t even realized that the following day was February fourteenth.
We played cards. We had a few good laughs.
After my parents went to bed, Eric and I sat in the living room. He streamed Netflix, and I texted.
PRIYA
Where are you?
Home. With my parents
PRIYA
You coming back tonight?
No. Tomorrow is the last day of the trial and probably the verdict. I’m going to spend tonight and tomorrow with my family. BTW, Eric is here!
PRIYA
Your brother?
Yes. He flew in last night!
PRIYA
I promise I won’t tell Emma or she’ll rush to your house to meet him.
Haha. You’re right. She would do that.
PRIYA
Keep me posted tomorrow.
Sounds good
I slept horribly that night. I was nervous for Dad and what he would face the next day. And then, as much as I tried not to, I kept thinking about Dallas. Dallas and his ineligibility.
A memory came back to me from the night we’d gone to Sporty’s.
When I told him who my dad was, and he clammed up on me.
He’d gone from a pursuer to an avoider in mere seconds.
And if I hadn’t cornered him later that night and forced myself on him, our short relationship would have run its course and I wouldn’t have been mad at him now.
Damn it. I didn’t want this turmoil.
There was a rock in my stomach. And because of that, I wanted—no, needed—to fix things for him. Make them right. He deserved that.