Page 84 of The Surprise

“No, thank you,” Izzy says. “If I have to go over any more plans with him for how to ask you out.” She sighs dramatically. “I might strangle him.”

Ethan’s glaring at her with so much intensity that it makes me laugh.

“I better go,” I say.

Because if I stay here any longer, I’m going to pounce on Ethan like a barn cat on a baby mouse. I keep seeing the same image of him over and over—his shirt up over his head. I can practically feel my hands moving down, down, down, to where they can stroke those beautiful abs.

“Wait,” Izzy says.

“Your article’s fine,” I say.

“No one’s going to read it anyway,” Ethan says. “It’s the last week of school.” They’re bickering when I pull out, and it steadies me, like the world hasn’t tilted on its axis. Like what just happened really is real.

Ethan asked me out.

To his own mother’s wedding.

Not as his friend.

I’m almost floating when I walk through the door at home. Mom’s back home again, thankfully, and she might even have some ideas for what I could wear.

Only, Mom’s not going to help me. I know it the second I walk inside. My mom gets sad sometimes, and she lies around a lot when she’s drunk or high. When she’s not, but she’s trying to stay clean, she shops. One thing Mom never does is yell.

And right now, she’s yelling. “—told you that the very first time you ever did that, I’d leave. And now?” She tightens her hand into a fist and trembles. “We’re through, Patrick. I already called my parents to tell them we’ll be there tomorrow.”

We? They’re through? What’s going on?

“Mom?”

Dad’s head whips sideways. “It’s not what you think.”

“Is Mom leaving you?” I ask.

“It’s exactly what you think.” Mom doesn’t look at me. “Your dad swore to me when we got engaged that he wasn’t like his dad. He promised he’d never hit me.”

“Dadhityou?” I ask.

“He hit his sister,” Mom says. “Close enough.”

Dad hit Aunt Donna? I feel sick.

“You don’t understand,” Dad says. “We need that money.”

Mom throws her hands up in the air. “Maybeyouneed it, but I don’t need you anymore.” She finally turns toward me. “Go and pack, honey. We’re moving.”

“No,” I say. “We can’t move.”

“What?” Mom freezes. “Why not?”

“I graduate in two days,” I say. “And Ethan’s mom is getting married.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Mom asks. “Plus, even if you don’t walk, you’ll still graduate.”

“Amelia, you’re not thinking this through,” Dad says. “I know you’re upset, and I’m so sorry.” My big, strong, horrible father drops down to his knees, tears rolling down his face. “Please, please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

“Patrick, I’m not doing this to you. You did it to yourself.” Mom turns around and disappears into their room.

I follow her, too numb to think straight. “Mom, can’t you talk to him?”

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