Part 21 (1/2)

It's two a.m. by the time I leave. Ty drives me home in his aunt's car so we won't wake my dad, but I already know that I'm in trouble. I have twelve missed calls.

Sure enough, the living room light is on.

”Do you want me to go in with you?” Ty asks. ”I could explain or-”

”No,” I say. ”I'll handle it.”

I walk up the front steps feeling empty, hollowed out by the emotional wallop I experienced tonight.

When I sit across from my dad in the living room, he puts down his book slowly and takes off his reading gla.s.ses.

”I was at-” I start.

”I know where you were,” Dad says. ”So don't bother telling me you were with Starla Joy.”

”I wasn't going to, Dad,” I say. ”I was at Ty's.”

”Well, that's an honest beginning,” says Dad.

”How did you know?” I ask.

”Vivian called around ten thirty,” he says. ”She wanted me to know you were okay.”

”Oh,” I say. ”Well, I'm not sure that I am.”

”She also updated me on Ty's ... situation,” he says. ”And she told me that you were counseling him through some of his grief about his transgressions.”

”I was being a good friend,” I say. Then I look in my father's eyes. ”A good Christian.”

”I know you were, Lacey,” Dad says. ”You should have called-you know that-but I was proud to hear that you were helping Ty tonight.”

My heart softens a little and I smile at my father. ”I learned it from you,” I say.

He smiles back, but it's a tight-lipped version of his usually wide-open grin.

”Well, now I'm going to have to say something to you that you won't want to hear,” he says.

”What?” I ask, my spine straightening.

”I don't want you spending time with Ty Davis anymore,” he says.

My mouth opens in objection, but Dad holds his hand up and silences me with a motion, just like he does with rowdy kids in Sunday school.

”I know that you two have become close,” he continues. ”I don't object to a friends.h.i.+p.”

”Then what do you object to?” I ask, my skin p.r.i.c.kling a little.

”Lacey, I know you've been out late at night with Ty,” he says.

I look down at the carpet.

”You've been deceiving your mother and me,” he adds. ”I don't know what else has been going on, but that's enough evidence to tell me that you're getting too close to a boy who has a history of problems.”

”A history?” I ask. ”Dad, he made a mistake! He's asked for forgiveness, Dad. And you should see how sorry he is.”

The words tumble out of my mouth and even I'm not sure how I feel about them. I find myself wis.h.i.+ng I could talk to my dad, be open with him about the confusion I've felt, which is only getting bigger instead of smaller.

”That's between Ty and G.o.d,” Dad says. ”I'm glad he's seeking forgiveness, and I will happily be there for him should he need my counsel.”

”So why can't I be there for him?” I ask. ”What if he needs my counsel?”

”I'm sorry, Lacey,” Dad says. ”But you've changed in these past few months. My little girl would never sneak out like you have, she would come to me with problems and talk to me about things that are going on in her life. You've become a mystery to your mom and me. You've been deceptive. And it all started with Ty's arrival.”

”I'm sixteen,” I say. ”I'm finding my way.”

And when I voice that, I know it's true. And then it's like I'm channeling the words to say to my father.

”You've raised me with G.o.d and the church and a huge network of community support: good people who saw me grow up, friends I've known since I could crawl, a safe small town to explore,” I say. ”But you've also shown me the way all along-your way.”

Dad starts to interrupt me, but I use his hand trick and it works.

”It might be my way too,” I say, ”but it might not be. I can't go on being protected and sheltered from life. People I care about are in pain. I have to be able to make my own choices about how to respond and who to help. You should trust me to do that.”

Dad pauses, lost for words for a moment, and I think I've gotten to him.

”You're very eloquent, Lacey,” he says.

”That's from you too,” I say, chancing another smile.

He frowns. ”Unfortunately, you're also sixteen, you've been lying to us, and you're just not emotionally equipped to deal with some of these things right now.”

I feel my heart cramp. He doesn't hear me. He doesn't trust me. I find myself wis.h.i.+ng I hadn't snuck out, wis.h.i.+ng I'd just been honest with my parents all along. But they wouldn't have let me spend time with Ty. I know they wouldn't have. And I don't regret that. It's like I can't win.

I'm so tired tonight, so emotionally drained. When Dad stands up and holds out his hand to me I take it, and join him on the walk upstairs.

”Good night, sweet daughter,” he says to me when we reach the landing. He kisses the top of my forehead. ”We'll let tonight go, okay?”

I look at him, and I realize he thinks he's giving me a great gift. A pa.s.s. He won't punish me for being out late with Ty, but he's also banning me from being near him. Dad thinks it's a fair trade.

”Good night,” I say.

I walk into my room and close the door. Then I lean against it and sink to the floor. What I said to Dad tonight may not have gotten through to him, but it rang very true within me. And I won't abandon my friends when they need me.

Chapter Twenty-seven.

The next day at school, I'm relieved to see Ty in a Carolina blue polo s.h.i.+rt, smiling and laughing as he walks down the hall. The news has spread, slowly and then rapidly, like a fire racing through a forest, by now-everyone knows about his accident. But I know he's sorry. I know better than anyone.