Page 19 of Trust Again

That’s why I’d taken on a pseudonym. Nate’s laughter and the resulting humiliation had hurt so much that I made up my mind never to show my work to anyone close to me again.

I glared at Sawyer. “Because you’re absolutely right: I write erotic stories and publish them online. Haha. Very funny. Cute little Dawn, who hasn’t gotten laid for months and won’t go out on dates, writes erotic literature. Funniest thing I ever heard,” I hissed.

“You’re crazy. Actually, I think it’s cool, what you’re doing. And if you think that I of all people would judge you for something like that, then you’re an idiot.”

Had I misheard something?

Sawyer turned from me and went back to her side of the room. She opened her laptop. I was about to speak when she pointedly stuffed earbuds into her ears and set the music so loud that I could hear it across the room.

Chapter 7

Woodshill Steakhouse was my dad’s and my favorite restaurant. It took a bit longer to get there than to the diners downtown, but the location was well worth the effort.

On the outside the wooden building looked dilapidated and abandoned, but the inside was absolutely charming and transported you to a different place. The decor was rustic, with antlers mounted over the bar, rough hewn wooden benches, and low-hanging lamps. Aside from the great food, it offered a fantastic view out over the valley. I always reserved a table at the window for Dad’s monthly visit. It was kind of a drafty spot, but the view of the water and surrounding landscape was worth it.

As soon as I entered the place, I noticed my father. He was already sitting at our regular spot, looking out the window. As usual, he was wearing his dark green overalls. His tanned arms were crossed on the table. His head was shaven, and mostly gray stubble decorated his chin.

Automatically, I smiled.

Dad and I were close. My mom had left us before I was two. I had no memories of the time when we were a family of three and I don’t even remember what she looked like. For a few years she’d sent me occasional postcards from Asia, where she lived and worked as a banker, but eventually that stopped, too. Probably because I never made an effort to reach out.

It would be a lie to say I never missed having a female role model, especially when I was going through puberty and would rather have died than ask Dad about the pros and cons of, say, tampons. But for the most part, I didn’t really feel like I was missing out. When my girlfriends went shopping with their mothers or got mani-pedis together, I took my homework into Dad’s workshop and watched him and his colleagues at work.

Whenever I asked Dad what had gone wrong between him and Mom, he’d say “sometimes things just don’t work out between two people, and then it’s best to go separate ways before they get hurt beyond repair.” And he’d say he was sure there was someone out there for him, someone who’d make him totally happy. As for me, after what had happened with Nate, I knew too well what it meant to be “hurt beyond repair.”

I made my way to our favorite table and slid a little too quickly onto the bench across from him. “Hey, Dad.”

“Try getting more of a running start next time,” he joked.

“Only if you cover the damages,” I said, unwinding my scarf.

He gave a rumbling laugh and leaned across the table. “How are you, honey?”

“Pretty good. I turned in an essay this week, and I’m modeling for my roommate.”

Dad slapped the table and smiled. “Are you kidding me? How did that happen?”

After the waiter took our order, I told him the story about how Sawyer and I had gotten closer, not leaving out a single detail, including being locked in the frat house bathroom.

“So if you got to know each other better, something good came of the whole thing.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like we’re best friends or anything,” I mumbled, with yesterday’s events fresh in my mind. Sawyer hadn’t said a word to me since.

“That’ll come, sweetheart. Some people need more time to open up.”

I brushed my bangs to the side. “I really messed up this time, Dad.”

“How so?”

“She found out that I publish stories. And I… wanted to keep that to myself.”

“Sooner or later all your friends will know, anyway, Dawny. Especially when you take the best-seller lists by storm.”

I smiled. Dad knew I published stories, but I’d told him he wasn’t allowed to read them. When he asked why not, I showed him the cover ofTame Me, which featured the naked body of a man holding a hat over his privates.

Dad hadn’t asked any more questions.

“True. But for now it’s more fun to be a normal student who’s not being bullied over her weird hobby. The fact that Sawyer found out really upset me, and I kind of went off on her about it.”

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