Chapter 21
Ella
“We started to be more than friends,” I say, “but then it ended.”
“Why did you lie to me?” my dad asks. “Why not just tell me the truth?”
“Because I know you don’t like him.”
“I don’t like his father. I don’t really know his son.”
“Well, now you’ll get a chance to know him.” I give my dad the smile I use when I really want something. “Can he stay? Just for a few days?”
He looks between Briggs and me. “Are you being truthful when you say it’s over between you two?”
“Yes,” Briggs and I say at the same time.
“And you’ll tell me if that changes?”
“Yes,” I say. “So can he stay?”
My dad sighs. “I better not regret this.”
“You won’t.” I give him a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”
He looks at Briggs. “Did you bring some clothes with you?”
“No. I kind of left in a hurry.”
“Could you go wait outside? I need to talk to Ella.”
“Yeah. I’ll be out front.” Briggs goes down the short hallway to the door.
When he’s gone, my dad asks, “What’s going on here? Why is Briggs Chadwick staying at our house? I want the truth, Ella, not some version of the truth.”
“I can’t say. But Dad, you saw his neck.”
“And you’re telling me his father did that?”
“And more,” I mutter.
My dad sets his hand on my shoulder. “Honey, I know you like helping people, but this is Briggs Chadwick. His father is a very powerful man. He already took our house. I don’t want him doing even more damage because we have his son.”
“Then what do you suggest we do? Just let him go back there?”
He thinks for a moment. “He can stay for a day or two. After that, we’ll have to figure out something else.”
“Like what? Dad, please, let him stay longer than a few days. He can’t go back there.”
“Ella, I feel bad for him, but you’re putting me in a tough situation.”
“I know. But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important to me.”
He looks me in the eye. “You sure there’s nothing between you two?”
“No. Not anymore. Dad, I swear, I’m not lying to you.”
“Then you’re lying to yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiles a little. “I’m your father. I know you better than anyone. You have feelings for that boy. I’ve never seen you this worked up over someone who’s just a friend.”
“I just don’t want him going back there.”
My dad sighs. “Two days, maybe three. And then we’ll figure it out after that.”
“A week?” I give him that smile again.
“Don’t push it. Three days, max. And no making out with him on the couch when I’m not home.” He points at me. “And he doesn’t set foot in your bedroom.”
I roll my eyes. “I just told you it’s not like that. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. Now go out there and get him.”
I run to the door and open it, hoping he’s still there. He’s standing behind the truck, looking at his phone.
I go over to him. “You can come in now.”
“Is he okay with me staying?”
“For a few days. He might let you stay longer if I keep working on him.” I grab Briggs’ hand. “Come on.”
He pulls his hand from mine. “Probably shouldn’t be doing that around your dad. We shouldn’t be doing anything around him.”
“Why would we do anything? We’re just friends, right? Nothing more?” I’m asking because I want to know. Briggs said he loves me, but he never said he wanted to get back together.
“Yeah,” he says. “We’re just friends.”
So then why did he say he loves me? Did he mean he loves me as a friend?
We go inside and find my dad in the kitchen, making a sandwich.
“What do you guys want to eat?” he asks.
“I’m good,” Briggs says. “I don’t need to eat.”
“You have to eat,” I tell him. “You want a sandwich?”
“I’ll go get something later.”
As he says it, I realize this is about money. He doesn’t want to cost us anything by staying here.
“Have a sandwich,” my dad says, handing his plate to Briggs. “I’ll make another one.”
“Thank you,” Briggs says, looking down at it. He seems embarrassed, or maybe ashamed. He’s probably never had to ask for help, so taking it doesn’t feel right to him.
The three of us have lunch, then my dad goes to his room to change back into his work clothes.
“I should go,” Briggs says, getting up from the table.
“Go where?”
“Anywhere. I don’t feel right being here.” He’s pacing the floor, rubbing his hand through his hair.
“Briggs, stop.” I grab his arm and get in front of him. “You’re not going anywhere. You don’t even have your car. Just stay. You’re safe here.”
My dad comes out of his room. “I’m heading out,” he says, giving Briggs and me a look like he doesn’t want to leave us alone. “I don’t know when I’ll be home. It could be any time.”
That’s code for he might make a surprise visit, so Briggs and I shouldn’t do anything because there’s a chance my dad will catch us.
“Bye, Dad,” I say, urging him to leave.
When he’s gone, Briggs smiles. “He didn’t believe you. He thinks we’re still together.”
“We were never really together, were we?” I ask, sitting on the couch. “I mean, we did stuff, but it’s not like we ever went on a date.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He sits on the couch, but a few feet away from me. “What I said yesterday . . .” He doesn’t finish, but I know he’s referring to when he told me he loves me.
“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean it. It was a stressful day and sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they’re stressed.”
He nods, then glances at me. “So what do you want to do?”
“We could work on the assignment. I haven’t started it.”
“I really don’t care about school anymore. What’s the point?”
I turn to face him. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. We can’t just give up.”
“I’m not. I just don’t see the point of killing myself to get good grades. There’s no way I could catch up with you to be valedictorian and I’ve already been accepted to college so my grades don’t really matter.”
“What college did you get accepted to?”
“Stanford.”
“Really?” I smile. “I’m going there too.”
He turns to me. “You got accepted?”
“Yeah, I just got the letter.”
“I won’t be going there,” Briggs says, sitting back. “I only applied to Stanford because my dad forced me to. It’s tradition. It’s where my dad went, and my grandfather.”
“Then where would you go?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t figured that out yet. I’ll probably just get a job. I won’t have money for school.”
“I thought you said you’ve been saving money.”
“I have, but it won’t be enough for school. It’ll get me an apartment and maybe a cheap car, but that’s it.”
“What about your mom? Could she help you pay for college?”
He shakes his head. “She gave up money and all her possessions. She said it’s part of her spiritual growth.” He rolls his eyes.
“So she’s not getting anything in the divorce?”
“I don’t know. I stay out of that shit. Asking my dad about the divorce got me this.” He points to a scar on his arm.
“What did he do?” I cautiously ask, knowing he doesn’t like to talk about it.
“Threw a vase at me. A piece of glass sliced through my arm.”
He says it casually, like he’s so used to getting abused by his father that it doesn’t even faze him anymore.
I scoot closer to him, facing him while he looks straight ahead. “Was yesterday the first time you fought back?”
“Yeah.”
“What made you do it? Why yesterday, and not all the other times?”
“Because he hit you,” he says, like it’s obvious.
“But why is that any different than him hitting you?”
“It just is.”
“You don’t deserve that, Briggs. You didn’t do anything wrong. No matter what he says, it’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, got it,” he says, sounding angry. “I don’t want to talk about this. Talk about something else.”
He doesn’t believe me. There’s a part of him that believes what his father tells him, which is probably that he’s worthless, or not good enough, or bad and has to be punished. My words won’t convince him that his dad is wrong. He needs to figure that out on his own.
I hear the front door open and bolt up from the couch. “Dad?”
“It’s me,” Susan says, appearing from the hallway, carrying grocery sacks. She smiles. “Did your father tell you I’d be coming over?”
“No.”
She goes into the kitchen and sets the sacks on the counter. “My neighborhood lost power so your father offered to let me come over here to work. I thought I’d make dinner later to thank him.” She starts unloading the groceries into the fridge.
“You’re going to be here all day?” I ask Susan, glancing at Briggs.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“No.” I sit back on the couch, knowing my dad did this on purpose. He doesn’t trust me with Briggs, so he sent his girlfriend over to babysit us.
“Maybe we should go,” Briggs says to me, his voice lowered.
“Oh, don’t go,” Susan says, closing the fridge and rushing over to us. “I didn’t mean to impose. I just needed a place to work. You can watch TV or do whatever you’d normally do. Just pretend I’m not here.” She smiles at Briggs. “I’m Susan, Roy’s girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you,” Briggs says, standing just briefly to shake her hand.
Her brows rise. “You’re Ella’s boyfriend?”
“He’s just a friend,” I say. “From school.”
She looks back at Briggs. “I don’t believe I got your name.”
“Briggs Chadwick.”
“Chadwick,” she says. “So you’re the son of Briggs Chadwick, owner of the investment firm.”
“That’s me,” Briggs says, sounding like he wishes it wasn’t true.
She smiles at him. “Is he already grooming you to take over someday?”
“He’s trying to.”
“Meaning he takes you to the office?”
“Yeah. Sometimes.” Briggs glances at me, probably wondering why she’s asking so many questions. I’m wondering that too.
“Have you been there recently?” she asks Briggs.
“Last weekend, but we weren’t there long. He’s had a lot going on at work so he doesn’t have time to go over stuff with me.”
Susan pauses, her eyes on Briggs. “You look very familiar. Have we met before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Your friends with the Kingsley boy. Is that right?”
“Finn? Yeah. Why?” Briggs glances at me again, like he wants me to get her to stop questioning him, but just as I’m about to say something, she starts in again.
“As you probably know, Finn has had several run-ins with the law,” Susan says. “Your name has come up several times when we’ve asked who we should call to give him a ride home.”