Chapter 16 #2
A loud clank filled the space as Dad put his mug down a little too forcefully, and I blinked.
He looked down at his hand in surprise. But a second later, he was back to staring intently at me again from across the kitchen table.
Dad's laptop sat open in front of him, whatever he'd been working on completely forgotten.
"Freya," he said again, "think about it rationally for a second. This is not a good plan. You must see that."
"I really don't."
"Aurora is fine. You guys talk all the time on the phone. And you know that if your Aunt Lillian or Clayton had any hint of her being in trouble, they'd be at her side in an instant."
He had a point.
Still, kids didn't tell their parents everything—a fact I probably should've considered before offering up the unfiltered truth. But I had never blatantly lied to my parents, not about anything that mattered, and I wasn't about to start now.
"Dad, you didn't see those posts and comments." I shook my head. "Some of them were vile."
My father's brows furrowed.
"You know how the internet can be. Part of what your cybersecurity company does is look out for the little guy, right? I'm just trying to do the same thing. Except this is for Ror."
"So, I'm just supposed to let you drive to...where did you say the concert was again?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Queens, New York."
Dad made a strangled sound in his throat while his eyes shot up to the ceiling, possibly asking what he'd done to deserve this.
"Are you okay?" I asked after a moment.
"Oh yeah, fine," he said, and the sarcasm was so thick you could've cut it with a knife. "My 17-year-old daughter wants to drive across state lines, hundreds of miles away, to go to a concert by herself. No biggie."
"Dad, I'll be 18 in a few months."
He made that sound again.
"And I told you. I'll meet up with Scarlett when I'm there. She's driving down from Boston."
"Which is how far away?"
"A little over three hours."
"And how far is it from here to Queens?" he countered.
"Well, I mapped it out, and it's not far."
Dad arched a brow, and I swallowed.
"Nearly eight hours," I murmured.
"Eight hours," he repeated.
"It's not much when you think about it. That's a workday.
Not long at all." I plowed ahead regardless of his skeptical look.
"Even with stops for gas and bathroom breaks, I could leave early, make the trip in 8.
5 hours, go to the concert, get a hotel for the night, and drive back the next day. I'd be home before you know it."
Dad opened his mouth, no doubt to ask more questions, but I spoke first.
"Tickets are already covered. Apparently, Scarlett got in contact with Sam who spoke to Hayden, and he set aside some tickets for us."
He still looked unconvinced.
"She's excited to see Aurora, and so am I."
I sent him a bright smile, but Thaddeus Kent was no pushover. He sat forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table, and narrowed his gaze. "Sounds like you've given this some thought," he said.
"I have."
Dad tilted his head. "When did you come up with your plan?"
"A few days ago," I said.
"But you chose to tell me now because..."
Mainly, I thought it would give him less chance to think about it and therefore less time to worry.
"Because I knew you'd say yes," I said.
Dad scoffed.
"You're the best, coolest dad ever, and I knew you'd want to protect your niece."
His face began to soften.
"But mostly because you know how much I love Ror. And you understand how helpless I'll feel if I don't at least try and look out for her," I said. "Dad, this summer hasn't been what I expected."
He sighed. "I know it's been hard, Frey."
It had, I thought. Yet, in other ways, it was surprisingly wonderful.
Tolliver's face appeared in my mind.
Shaking the image away, I tried to stay in the moment and not think about how he was coming back tomorrow night.
"I'm still sad that you had to give up the tour," Dad went on.
"Then let me go," I said.
"I'm uncomfortable with you driving eight or nine hours by yourself."
As if in answer, my phone pinged.
I looked down, read the message, and smiled, holding the screen up so he could see.
"Viola just said she's coming too," I said. "She asked me to swing by and pick her up from college on the way."
My father grunted.
"That means I'd only be driving alone about 40 minutes."
A beat passed.
"Be the cool dad I know you are," I said.
"I don't know that I'm this cool," he mumbled. "Your mother—"
"—is busy with Stacia preparing for the wedding."
"But I—"
"—will be working, as usual. You'll hardly even realize I'm gone."
I crossed my arms.
"Dad, please," I said. "You know, I can do this."
"That doesn't mean I'm not scared," he said.
"I'll go the speed limit and call every two hours."
Dad searched my face, saw my resolve, and finally said, "Okay."
"Okay?" I echoed.
"Yeah, you can go."
I was out of my seat and hugging him in the next instant. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
He hugged me back. "Yeah, yeah. When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning," I said. When I felt him freeze, before he could object, I added, "You already agreed remember? Can't take it back now."
"Well played," he said grudgingly.
"Thanks."
"It's a good thing I love you, kid."
"I know. I love you too, Dad. So much."
When I pulled back, his eyes were shiny, but he was wearing a smile. "Doesn't Tolliver get back tomorrow?"
"You know, I think so," I said, acting as if I hadn't been counting down the days. "But he's coming in at night, so I guess I'll just miss him."
"That's too bad," he said.
I shrugged.
"Did he ever call?"
"Not once," I said.
"But he sent you that text."
Yeah, I thought. Just the one.
I'd read it too many times, could recall it verbatim from memory.
Hey Freya,
It's Tolliver. They're really strict about phones.
I'm using mine during a break while hiding in a closet.
Everyone here is amazing. But I'm doing what you said.
Squeezing that lemon juice into eyes, giving it everything.
I hope you're good. Have you played your violin?
Or is it too soon? Read any good books? Anyway, someone's coming. Bye, I'll see you soon.
Miss you.
T
The message wasn't long, but it was enough to make me think of him near constantly.
That last part.
Miss you.
I could practically hear him saying it, and yeah.
It got me every time.
But he'd sent it at the start of his hockey tournament. Although I sent a reply, I hadn't heard from him since.
"I bet he misses you," Dad said, startling me from my thoughts.
"Maybe. I can't be sure," I said.
"Then I'll be sure for you."
He sent me a smile, and I smiled back.
"Have fun at the concert. Stay safe. Don't talk to shady folks."
"Dad."
"Say hi to your cousins and bring me back a HERS t-shirt?"
"You got it."