Page 51 of Wallflower

"So how's your day been?" he asked.

My eyebrows rose. What a loaded question. "Not the best, but I guess it could've been worse," I said. "How about you?"

"Eh, nothing out of the norm. You want to talk about anything?"

"Not really," I said.

Dad sighed. "I heard what happened, Vi."

"Oh."

A nod. "And I want you to know it's going to be okay."

"What is?" I said tentatively. So much had happened today that it was impossible to tell what he was talking about.

"Maybe it was stupid of me to think you couldn't like one of my players," he said, speaking more to himself than to me. "But in my head, you'll always be my baby. I can't believe I didn't see it before."

He laughed, but I stayed silent, waiting to see where this was going.

"You should be cautious, though. He may seem like a nice boy. But most guys that age aren't real reliable."

I crossed my arms. "I bet Mom would disagree. She always said you were her One, the person she could trust with anything, even back in high school. Before that even."

Dad smiled. "Well, there are exceptions to every rule."

His expression sobered a moment later.

"But seriously, Viola," he said. "I get it. He's good-looking, smart, athletic."

And he knows it, I thought.

"He's a great player and all-around nice guy."

I had to laugh at that. "Dare? Nice? I'm not sure he'd like being called that, Dad."

His brow furrowed. "Frost? Who said anything about him?"

My eyes widened at my faux pas. "Ah, well, what are you talking about?"

"Your video with Tyson," he said.

"Oh…that," I said.

"Yeah"—Dad ran a hand through his hair—"that. I figured you'd be pretty down about it and wanted to catch you before you went home and spilled all your secrets to your mother. I get that you two have a connection, and that's great. But I love you, too, you know. You can always talk to me."

My throat closed up with unshed tears.

It had really been a day, and for some reason, his words got to me.

"Thanks, Dad," I said. "That means a lot."

"No problem." His mouth quirked up. "And hey, how are things with you and Dare going? You two getting along?"

"Yeah," I said carefully, "we are. Why? Did you hear something?"

My father waved that off. "Ah, there's always weird gossip going around. I don't put much stock in it."

So hehadheard about Dare and me but completely dismissed the idea.

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