Page 23 of The Promposal

But even though I’d been determined to talk things out with Jake, now I was too scared to. What if he went off on me like Trent had at school? Or started kissing girls who named themselves Bronte at local eateries?

Instead I said, “Maybe Trent will man up and tell her himself.”

“Maybe. And maybe the Cleveland Browns will win the Super Bowl. But if you have to bet on one or the other, I’d bet on the Browns.”

“Why do I feel so bad about hitting him?” Because Trent had obviously deserved it.

“Because you have a conscience?” Jake suggested. “You could apologize. It might make you feel better.”

“Apologize?” I repeated, stunned. “He cheats on my sister, and I have to apologize to him?”

“Being angry at something or someone ... that only hurts you.”

“That’s a helpful life lesson.” I was shooting for sarcasm, but I missed the mark given that I knew he was probably right. That the only way to lessen my guilt would be to apologize for the assault.

Which made me mad all over again.

“This lesson has been brought to you by the lettersKandOand the number twelve.” He paused, waiting for something. “That was both aSesame Streetand a boxing reference, FYI. What with you being the reigning champ and all.”

“Ha, ha.” I let the bag of peas fall from my hand. It had started to feel better. I flexed it a few times. I didn’t feel any broken bones.

Then again, I was not a doctor. Just tutoring the daughter of one.

“I’m not excusing what he did, but sometimes people make mistakes. We need to forgive people for making mistakes, right?” His voice sounded high and tight and suspicious. He looked anxiously at me. I kept my super poker face on, not letting on that my nerves were now frayed with worry.

“What are you talking about?”

He blinked three times. “Trent. What else would I be talking about?”

I waited and watched. If he touched his mouth, his tell for when he was lying to me, I was going to punch him, too. With my undamaged hand.

“Let me get you some more peas. These are kind of melted.”

I watched him go back to the freezer and wondered what had my boyfriend done that he thought he needed to be forgiven for.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I had Jake take me home. Much as I liked being with him, I knew I’d spend the entire evening alternating between trying to figure out how I was going to tell Ella and thinking up horrible things I could do to Trent. Neither one would be productive.

Or I’d be worrying and wondering what Jake’s comment about needing forgiveness meant. And to be honest? I wanted to live in Denial Land and pretend like that hadn’t just happened.

So I focused my attention on my sister and her drama, which was much more immediate. It would be better to just go home and rip the Band-Aid off. Because if I waited, she could find out in some other way. Bronte could put something up on social media. Or somebody in the restaurant might have filmed the fight, and with my luck, the thing had already gone viral.

Jake dropped me off with a quick kiss, and I slogged my way back into the house. Even though I knew it was a necessary evil, my stomach knotted up as I imagined Ella’s reaction. Every step I took brought me closer to hurting my sister.

My dad sat on the couch with Jennifer, watching a movie. “Hey, sweetie. You’re home early,” he said, glancing at his watch.

“Yep.”

“Do you want to join us?” Jennifer asked, and part of me was tempted to accept. If for no other reason than to delay the inevitable.

“Not tonight.”

Dad paused the movie. “What’s with the Incredible Sulk routine? Is everything okay? Did your mother do something?”

I almost wanted to laugh. My mother probably had done something that I just didn’t know about yet. But she wasn’t the reason for my moodiness. “No.”

“Did Jake do something?” he asked, a deadly look in his eyes.

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