Page 24 of Rebellious

“Jameson,” Theo says casually. “Do not make me hurt your feelings in front of the kids; our wives say it’s distasteful.”

My father chuckles. He lives for teasing Theo. My mom says if something ever happened to their marriage, she’d be the one to leave. She couldn’t bear for my father and Theo to part.

“Look, Bennett,” Theo says. “Your father, in his backward logic, is right about getting your education. Should you decide to be like me andleavethe pros, you’ll have something to fall back on, like taking care of random men your wife finds on the side of the road.”

“Excuse me.” Aspen shoves back from the table and darts toward the back. I stand, but her father stops me.

“Don’t even think about it,” he clips.

I nod tightly but refuse to sit back down.

Theo’s eyes narrow. “I don’t know what the problem is between you and my daughter tonight, but you better fix it before you get home.”

“Aspen and I are fine, sir.” At least we were earlier. I’m not sure what’s happened since that time, but I plan to figure it out.

“I’m sure Aspen is just emotional from all of today’s activities,” says Anniston, cutting in and placing a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Give her time to process everything.”

Theo looks like time is the last thing he wants to give his daughter. “Okay,” he returns, glancing over at my plate of untouched food. “But if I find out you caused her distress today, I’m going to take my aggression out on your father later.”

My father grins. “I almost hope that’s the case, Von Bremen.”

My chest tightens.

“I’ll check on her,” Vee says, standing. “She hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours, I’m sure she’s just tired.”

Theo points his fork at me. “I still can’t believe y’all went bungee jumping without me and Jameson.”

Fenn, who’s been nodding off this whole time, mumbles under his breath. “Please, old man, you’d probably have a heart attack mid-jump.”

Theo tosses a fry at Fenn. “Do not think this ‘old man’ won’t come across this table and whip your young ass.”

This meal is getting out of hand. Not that our family dinners aren’t usually like this. But this time, I’m using the chaos to my advantage.

“I need to check my sugar,” I lie, holding my hand out for the black pouch Mom stuck in her purse earlier.

“Here.” She hands it over. “You need any help?”

I shake her off and smile. “Nah. I got it.”

Having Type 1 diabetes kills my mother’s soul. She loves to bake and when I was diagnosed, she thought she had caused it. The doctor assured her the disease didn’t originate from sugar but from genetics or a virus. They didn’t know which.

Either way, my mom set out to learn as much as she could, making everyone reduce their sugar intake by eating sugar-free foods and desserts. A sugar-free lifestyle wasn’t terrible, but I missed her famous pies. Out of all of us, it killed Theo the most, but he participated, showing us kids we wouldn’t miss the sugar.

Though, one day, I caught him in the barn with three cookies. He made me promise not to tell, handing over a cookie as a bribe. As soon as I ate it, my blood sugar spiked. At the time, I had never given myself an injection. I had only recently been diagnosed, and at seventeen, I was still leery about jabbing a needle into my abdomen. My mom or Anniston had always been the one to give me the injections. Aspen was nineteen and home for the summer. And since I was no narc, I went to her for an injection, as she had gone to every doctor’s appointment with me.

And that’s how it started.

Me lying to Mom that I was fine going off to college, knowing how to manage my disease. It was the truth. I knew how to manage my diet and exercise, even checking my blood sugar. But the injections? I had Aspen for those.

I get up from the table, ignoring Fenn and Theo’s back-and-forth jabs, and make my way toward the back of the restaurant. The women’s restroom isn’t hard to find.

I rap on the door. “Vee? Asp?”

“We’re here,” calls Vee.

I push open the door and find both girls standing at the sink. Aspen spots the black bag in my hand and straightens, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You need a shot?”

I shake my head. “No. I just wanted to check on you.”

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