I couldn’t tell what she was thinking—her face was completely blank—so I stood there stupidly as she got closer, and I didn’t even flinch when she raised her arm. I wasn’t prepared for her to slap me across the face before my dad, who’d jumped out of his recliner, could stop her. She was screaming in Spanish about what a horrible daughter I was, and all I could do was stand there in shock while she berated me. I could feel myself crying, tears were rolling off my chin and my cheek was on fire, but I was too stunned to do anything.

She’d never hit me before.

Finally, my dad pulled her away from me and took her place, speaking in a low but furious voice.

“We got a call from one of your friends this morning. I’m pretty sure I told you to stay away from Mallory, but according to her, you two went to a party together last night,” he hissed, clenching his jaw. “She was worried when she tried to leave and couldn’t find you. She said she called your phone over and over, and when you didn’t answer she decided to try and call us. Funny thing about that, I thought you’d been at your grandma’s last night.”

“Dad—” I tried to explain but he cut me off with an angry movement of his arm that had me jerking away from him.

“Don’t even try it, Callie! Obviously, you can’t be trusted and neither can my mother. I’ll call her when I’m done with you,” he stated menacingly, causing guilt to rush through me at what I imagined my Gram would go through. “You’re grounded. I’ll let you keep your phone on the off chance that Cody calls from school, but I’ll be monitoring when you use it. Don’t use it,” he told me, his voice icy.

I stood, frozen, not sure what I should be doing after I got caught in the biggest lie of my life. I’d never been in so much trouble, and I couldn’t wrap my head around how angry they were. The night before had been a huge mistake, but I didn’t know how to tell them that I’d learned my lesson without getting into the details I knew would only piss them off more.

My mom stood behind my dad with her arms wrapped tight around herself as she shook, and both of them were staring at me like they didn’t even know who I was. I shifted my eyes between them, trying to figure out what to say, until my mom snapped, and with the veins in her neck bulging and her face turning red, she screamed at me to get in my room.

I bolted.

I spent the rest of the day cleaning my room and finishing up the homework that was due on Monday, quietly listening to music in my ear buds. My mind raced back and forth from the night before to the scene I’d walked in on earlier in the day; I had a hard time concentrating on anything else. One little decision and I’d completely screwed myself.

At around seven o’clock, I was lying in my bed reading when my mom came into my room carrying a plate full of food and a soda. I sat up quickly as she placed the soda on my nightstand and sat on the side of my bed. When she handed me the food, she started speaking, and my stomach tied in knots when I heard the tremble in her voice.

“You scared me, mija. I called and called when we got home last night and no answer. So I call your friends, none know where you are. Your father had the phonebook out to call the hospitals when your grandmother calls and says you’re with her,” she told me in a calm voice, sniffing as she spoke. “We knew something was not right, but I knew if she said you were with her, then you were safe and we could deal with it when you got home today.”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” I apologized quietly, and it had never been so true.

“Well, you are home safe now,” she commented with a shrug, as if that was all that mattered. “I brought you dinner, so you can eat in your room. Your father, he’s not so ready to see you yet. Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

When she finished speaking, I lurched into her arms, anxious for forgiveness. She wrapped her arms around me tightly, and as she kissed my head over and over, I knew how much I’d scared her. When she finally relaxed her arms, I held on to her, loathe to let her go—but she didn’t make me. She smelled so good, like a mix of fried food and Paris Hilton perfume that she’d received as a Secret Santa gift the year before and had worn every day since. For the first time in almost a year, I wasn’t secretly embarrassed that she was wearing a perfume made for teenage girls. She smelled like home, and she didn’t let go of me until I was ready.

After she was gone, I ate dinner and got ready for bed. I was a little afraid of what my dad would be like the next day, but he was usually gone before I got up for school, so I knew he’d have an entire day to cool down before I saw him again. He never stayed mad for very long, so I was confident that by the time he was home from work, we’d be back to normal.

If I’d known what would happen, I would’ve acted differently. I wouldn’t have relaxed in the shower. I wouldn’t have taken the time to shave my legs or paint my toenails. I wouldn’t have let him stay mad or let things go unsaid between us.

I would have marched downstairs and made things right with him, and then I would’ve curled up next to him on the couch like I had as a little girl—content to watch boring television just so I could spend time with him.

But I didn’t—and I had to live with that.

Chapter 7

Grease

I met up with the boys and headed out of town before we had to deal with any more problems. The open road calmed me like it always had, and by the time we hit Sacramento I’d finally stopped thinking of her. She was just another girl in a long line of girls I’d wanted to fuck—nothing more and nothing less. I convinced myself that there wasn’t anything special about her.