Page 84 of Headstrong Like Us
“Lily.”
I can’t do this anymore. It’s been weeks, and whatever is going on, it’s getting worse. They’re not pushing through like I thought they would, and if I can help, then I shouldn’t be dragging my feet doingnothing.
I scoot my chair back, the legs screeching against hardwood. “Can I talk to you both?” I ask them. “Alone?”
“Yeah, bud.” My dad takes my mom’s hand. They actually look relieved to step out for a minute. Away from their youngest kids.
I glance back at Farrow.
He raises his brows at me. “I’m staying with your brother and sisters.” He motions me closer, and I drop my head. Against my ear, he whispers, “They’ll be okay, wolf scout. Do what you need to do.”
Just like that, pressure ascends off my chest.
I grip the crook of his neck and kiss him on the lips, a tender kiss. Too fleeting, but I’ll be back. And as I leave the dining room, I follow my parents into their home office.
It’s not a stuffy place.
X-Menmovie posters hang on the walls, and stained-glass lamps illuminate a desk and some cherry-hued tufted chairs.
My mom plops down on the wheeled office recliner. And my dad—he stands beside a purple filing cabinet, only inches from my mom. He doesn’t touch her. It’s so damn weird.
Usually they’re all over each other.
My muscles are tensed. Burning. I’m fixed and unyielding, even though there’s a part of me that’s afraid to have more answers. Because I’m scared—really fucking scared for them.
I can count on my hand the number of times I’ve felt that. They’re the definition of strength. Always have been. I’ve seen them battle this monster my whole life. They struggle, they fall, but they rise again. Every damn time.
“What the hell is going on with you two?” I ask.
“Nothing’s going on,” my dad says.
It’s a line.
An automation.
“You expect me to believe that?” Anger rumbles inside me. “I can tell when you two aren’t doing well, and usually it’s a blip. But something’swrong.”
My dad winces, his face contorting. Until he forces out another dry smile. “You don’t need to worry about us, bud.”
“It’s too late for that.”
My mom rubs at her glassy eyes. “Maybe we should just tell him, Lo.”
Pain tries to puncture my lungs, my heart, every organ inside my body. But I just stand straighter. Rigid. Features on total lock-down. Ready to bear everything and anythingfor them.I’ll do it a million times over.
He’s staring right at me. Not even answering my mom. “You want to know what’s going on?”
“Yes.” I’m practically pleading. “Maybe there’s something I can do to hel—”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want you to know.” He cuts me off, eyes flashing hot. “Because there’snothingyou can do. Do you understand?”
I grind down on my teeth and dagger a glare into the ceiling.
“Look at me.” His voice is the sharpest blade, but the only thing that’s ever really frightened me about him is the demon he locks away.
Alcoholism, addiction—it could kill my dad. Like it killed my grandfather.
I drop my gaze. Looking right at him.
