Knee Deep by Jolene Perry Page B

through my throat to form words. “It’s just Luke ,” I plead, sucking in a breath.
    “Whatever.” He throws my arm back at me, turns, and walks out the door, slamming it hard behind him. My body jumps at the sound.
    I stumble backward onto the couch. I’m like a leaf battered about in the wind. Nothing’s working right. I need to sit. Normally I’d run after him, but I have no idea what to expect. And I’m afraid . Of Shawn.
    He’s never been that way before. Ever. He’s moody and particular, but this seems…extreme. I’m cradling my wrist with my other hand, afraid to look at any possible damage. It hurts to move it. What just happened here? How did it happen?
    It’s like there suddenly must be something fundamentally wrong with the universe. But the TV’s still on. My house looks normal and quiet. I’m still breathing, but Shawn, my Shawn , just hurt me. Lying down seems so anti-climactic, but I can’t bring myself to do anything else.
    When Juliet realizes Romeo’s dying the sobs take over, and I pull my knees to my chest as if making myself smaller will somehow dull the pain.
    It doesn’t.

~ 6 ~
     
    I put on a hoodie to hide the ice I have on my wrist, then I lie in bed and read. Normally I’d have my script out, but after a whole day of Romeo and Juliet , I’m done. I really need to find something to keep my brain busy. Thinking about my day with Luke and Shawn’s horrific reaction, won’t change how I screwed up by hanging out with Luke all day.
    “Ronnie?” Dad knocks on my door.
    “Yep.” I let the book lie on my arm. Maybe it’ll mask the ice better than the hoodie does.
    He opens the door and steps inside. It’s always sort of funny to see Dad in my turquoise room. It’s a pretty girly room and he looks displaced, like an alien or something.
    “Can we talk for a minute?” he asks.
    “Sure.” I don’t move. I’m not sure how to keep all my ice, hoodie, and book in place if I do, but I have to keep him from seeing. He won’t understand—he won’t realize the stress that Shawn must be under for this to happen. Actually, this leads me to the problem of Dad saying we need to talk. It’s generally because he’s noticed things that I really don’t want to discuss.
    He sits in my small, white wicker chair. Again. Alien. In the wrong world.
    “You were driving Mindy’s car yesterday when you skipped?” he asks.
    “What?” Even though I know I was driving her car, I’m just trying to figure out where he’s going with this so she doesn’t get in trouble. I swallow down the small lump forming in my throat.
    His face tilts down. He knows I heard him.
    “She let me borrow it.” Seems safe enough.
    “So.” He sits back again. “Mindy let you borrow her car so you could skip. And you skipped by yourself?” His fingers rub his chin like I imagine he does with his patients. He’s watching me too carefully.
    I force my breathing to remain the same. “Yep.”
    “Why?” The crinkles around his eyes are really starting to show. A combination of age and suspicion.
    “What?” Again, answering a question with a question gives me thinking time. The problem is Dad knows this trick.
    Again , his stern look.
    Okay, the best way to deal with my dad is by being as honest as possible. “I don’t know, Dad. Don’t you sometimes have an off day?” I ask.
    “We all do.” He nods. “I’m just concerned there’s more going on here, that’s all.”
    “I just…I just wanted out of school. Next time I’ll call. I knew I’d get caught without a car, and Mindy didn’t mind letting me use hers…” I do a half shrug as I lie on my side. Looking relaxed is always good.
    “I won’t tell her parents if she was with you, but if she was, and you took the fall alone, it makes me wonder why. I also wonder why, if you were alone, you bothered to skip at all. If you took the fall and let Shawn hide, that’s completely not okay. And you don’t seem nearly as upset about your weekend