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“It doesn’t have to be this way, Alistair,” Margot said.

“I’ll be in the car,” my father said, ignoring her. “You have five minutes, Charlotte, and then I’m coming back in here, and nobody is going to like the things I’ll do.”

“Fine,” I said.

My father turned and barreled past Margot and me down the stairs. A second later I heard the front door slam shut behind me.

“What just happened?” Dalton asked.

“I may not have been one hundred percent upfront with my dad about where I was spending Thanksgiving,” I said.

“You better get your things,” Margot said rather icily. “Best not to keep your father waiting. Royce, if I could see you for a moment downstairs?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Dalton said.

I mouthed I’m sorry to Dalton behind Margot’s back and then walked to my room to get dressed. I pulled on the same jeans and sweater I had worn the day before because they were still lying on the floor where I had discarded them yesterday. I went about hastily packing, throwing all of my things into my suitcase as quickly as I could.

I didn’t get to say goodbye to Dalton. Neither he nor Margot was anywhere in sight when I dragged my suitcase downstairs. But I didn’t have time to go looking for them, so I took my things and left.

My father’s car was idling in the front drive. He got out to put my suitcase in the trunk and then held the front passenger door open for me. He slammed it behind me when I got in.

We drove in silence for the first several minutes. I opened my phone and saw that I had fifty missed calls from Greyson and dozens of text messages. I had forgotten to take him off of “Do Not Disturb” mode. I opened the text messages. The earliest ones were a frenzy of panic.

Greyson: [8:05 p.m.] Charlie, where r u?

Greyson: [8:12 p.m.] R u ok?

Greyson: [8:56 p.m.] Seriously, answer my calls plz

Greyson: [9:30 p.m.] Pick up

Greyson: [10:03 p.m.] I’m really worried

The ones in the middle became vaguely threatening.

Greyson: [10:03 p.m.] I’m going to call your dad if you don’t answer so I can get dickweed’s address

And the later ones became just plain stupid.

Greyson: [11:45 p.m.] I didn’t have your dad’s number so I went down to his place in the city

Greyson: [11:47 p.m.] He’s really mad. He’s coming to get you

Greyson: [11:48 p.m.] I told him about Dalton and the board of conquests

Greyson: [11:48 p.m.] I’m sry. Don’t hate me.

Ugh, Greyson had gone to my dad? He had told him about Dalton? What an idiot.

“Don’t ever lie to me, Charlotte,” my father said, finally breaking the silence between us. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “I thought lying was a Calloway family trait.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Jake Griffin,” I said. “You told me you barely knew him.”

My father stopped the car. He pulled over onto the side of the road and put the car into park.