Page 116 of Personal Foul

The silence ticks by, only interrupted by the sound of Mom tapping something in the background. Her high-priced pen on her desk blotter if I had to guess. She does that when she’s thinking, which means she’s considering my story idea.

“You might be onto something there …” she murmurs at last.

“Call up your favorite reporter and you can make it a puff piece all about you and Dad and your charitable efforts. Get out in front of any potential negatives right away. We can stay out of Seattle for the summer. By the fall, I think the dust will have settled with her dad one way or the other—either the investigation will end and he won’t be charged”—she snorts her disbelief of that option, but I ignore her—“or he’ll be charged soon, he’ll plea out, and it’ll be out of the papers in a few months. And you have a whole year after that before the election.”

She inhales deeply. “You make several good points. I’ll discuss it with your father and let you know what we decide.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Okay, you do that, Mom. Even if you don’t like it, you won’t convince me to break up with her. And if you or Dad start bothering her to break us up that way—since it worked once already—I’ll file harassment charges against you.”

“Dylan. Be serious.”

“I am serious. I’ll play ball with you as long as you don’t interfere with my life. But if you can’t accept my boundaries, I won’t hesitate to go nuclear.”

Her sigh now is all aggravation. “What has gotten into you kids? First your sister being stubborn about her wedding, and now this? At least she had the good sense to pick—”

“I’m hanging up now, Mom. Let Victoria have the wedding she wants. It’s not a political event. It’s to celebrate hermarriage. I think what you’re upset about is something psychologists call individuation. It’s a normal and healthy part of growing up.”

Astonishingly, that shuts her up. Our goodbyes are stilted, but she doesn’t hang up on me or force me to hang up on her, so I’m counting it as a win.

Wrapped in a towel, Charity tentatively steps into the living room. “Everything alright?”

Grinning at her, I reach out and snatch the towel, causing it to fall away. “It is now.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Charity

A few days later, I’m back at my place packing a few things when Isabelle appears in my doorway.

We’ve barely spoken since my revelation last weekend.

She looks me up and down, her arms crossed, her shoulder propped against the door frame. “Are you just going to avoid me forever?”

Surprised, I look up from the bag I’m packing. “Um.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “Maybe?”

She huffs, and I’m not sure if she’s more amused or annoyed or equal parts both. “Seriously? Where are you going? I thought you weren’t moving until the end of next month, but it seems like you’re basically moving out now.”

Confused, I look around my room. All my things are still here. I’m only packing some clothes and books. “Um, I’m not moving out? I’m just—”

“Avoiding me,” she finishes for me.

“I figured you’d rather not see me, so …”

She stares at me for several seconds. “Did you ever think your high school friends stopped coming around because you ignored them?”

I jerk my head back in shocked hurt, but she holds up a hand before I can respond. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. But you do this, you know. You decide things are a certain way and act accordingly, but you never stop to make sure the other people involved agree with your assessment.”

“What? When have I—you know what?” I shake my head, not wanting to get into any or all of my past mistakes. “Clearly that’s what’s happening now. So I’m sorry. You were really mad, and I can’t blame you. I’d be mad too. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to make amends but …” I spread my hands. “I really don’t know how to do that in this scenario. I’ve already told you everything. All my other stories, all the other things you’ve gotten to know about me over the years, all those things are true. I really was babysitting for my sister, it just wasn’t because I needed the money. It was because I love my sister and my niece. I went to public school through middle school and lived in a normal subdivision in a three-two house and rode my bike around the neighborhood with my friends in the summers just like you did.”

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I promise I won’t lie to you again. But that sounds like just words, even to me.”

“I miss you,” she says at last. “I miss my friend. I miss my roommate. I’m sorry that I made you feel dumb for your parents throwing our floor a party freshman year.” She looks down at the cuff of her sleeve and wraps it over her hand. “I was jealous. My parents couldn’t afford to do anything that cool for me. It’s easier to shit on things you know you can’t have than admit that you wish you could have them too.” She raises her eyes to mine. “I was mad, at first. But by Tuesday, I came home hoping to see you. I wanted to yell at you and get it all out and then we could move past it. But you came home late and left early, and then I haven’t seen any sign of you for days now. Where have you been hiding?”

“Oh, um, well …” I sink onto my bed. “At first, I was spending all my free time on campus or at my sister’s. Like I said, I figured you hated me now, and I wanted to give you space. But spending so much time with my sister meant getting some sisterly advice, and she told me I should see if Dylan still wanted me.”

Isabelle’s eyes grow wide. “And?”

I can’t repress the grin breaking out on my face, and I nod. “That’s where I’ve been the last few days. And that’s why I’m here packing some things. I’ve been basically staying with him. He’s at the gym right now, and we’re supposed to meet up on campus in an hour.”

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