Arianna Rose: The Awakening (Part 2) (25 page)

“I would ask you where the hell you’ve been, but I already know,” her father began. “Do you know how worried I was? What were you thinking? I thought you were smarter than this. Boy was I wrong!”

Her father was not a temperamental man. He was not prone to outbursts. The fact that he was shouting at her meant he was monumentally angry with her, and disappointed.  Tears threatened anew.

“Dad, I’m so sorry. I know how angry you are,” she attempted.

“Angry?” he interrupted.  “You think I’m just angry?  I’m beyond angry!  Angry was an hour ago!  I was worried sick about you!  I woke up coughing and went to the kitchen for a drink of water.  When I passed your room and you weren’t there, I assumed you were still up.  Imagine my surprise and
horror
when I realized you were gone! I didn’t know what the hell had happened.  I was about to call the police but tried Alexandra instead. She said she didn’t know where you were so I called Daniella.  She answered the phone by asking how things went with you and Kevin tonight.”

He knew everything, or almost everything.  He stood before her with his hands on his hips glowering at her.  She had never realized how intimidating her dad looked before, how his thick muscles and barrel chest strained against his T-shirt and how a large vein protruded like a lightning bolt down his smoothly shaven head when he was angry.  Perhaps she only saw him as the gentle man he was because he had not been angry with her in as long as she could recall.  She began to cry.

“I made a mistake, a horrible mistake.  I’m so sorry.”

Seeing her tears, her father softened. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m disappointed, Missy. I’m not going to lie. I love you, but I really don’t like what you did.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“You’re only seventeen. What were you thinking? What kind of guy wants to meet you in the middle of the night? You could have gotten yourself hurt, or
killed
.”

“Or mauled,” she said under her breath louder than she’d wanted.

“Mauled,” he asked and she saw the anger flash in his eyes. “What do you mean
mauled
?”

“Nothing, I meant nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me again,” he warned.  “Did he hurt you, this Kevin guy?  Which Kevin was it, Kevin McNally or Kevin Hartwig? Was it that jackass jock Anderson?  Whichever it was, I can take a drive over there right now and let him try to maul me!” 

“No, no Dad. Everything’s fine,” she lied and felt warmth spread across her cheeks.  She was unaccustomed to lying to her father.  “I was just, uh, supporting your argument.”

He did not seem convinced.  “Melissa, you broke my trust once today.  Do
not
try for a second time. When you lie to me I can’t trust you or protect you.”

The last thing she had wanted was to lose his trust, though she’d known it was a consequence from the start.  She hated herself for being so stupid earlier, for choosing to do something that threatened the trust between them.  She had been wrong, plain and simple.  And earning her father’s trust back would not be easy.  She cried quietly.

“Get some sleep, Missy.  We’ll talk in the morning,” he father offered with a pained look.

“Aren’t you going to ground me ‘til I’m thirty?” she asked through sobs.

“Nope. I doubt it. I don’t think you’ll be sneaking out to meet that jerk, or any other, anytime soon.  But in the meantime, I’m calling Ronnie and Frank tomorrow to see about chopping down that old oak by your window,” he said and winked. “Love you.  And please don’t pull any crap like this again, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed and watched as her father disappeared upstairs.  She waited a moment before going up to her room. Once she heard his door shut, she ascended the staircase and went straight to her room. She sat on her bed and a fresh wave of tears washed over her.  She felt shame for her bad behavior, and agonized over the days to come, days that included Kevin.  He sat at the desk behind her in third period English class.  The thought of him looming a desk away after the evening they spent together made her cringe. In a few short hours, she’d be forced to face him.  She desperately wished she could rewind the night to the moment she’d received his text.  She would have made an excuse, or told him her father was awake, anything to have avoided the whole ordeal.  But she knew that time continued, that there was no rewind button in life.  If there were, she’d go back even farther, to when her mother had been alive. She slumped down on her bed and allowed her body to fall back against her pillows.  She closed her eyes and willed the night away. And the night vanished.  Within seconds, deep, velvety oblivion enveloped her and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.