Page 94 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“Tabitha?” he presses.
I groan and gesture at my foot. “It’s nothing. I slipped off the curb. It was nobody’s fault.”
Dad flashes a disturbed look at Kai. “You were trying to get away from him?”
“Dad!” I complain.
“Why do you have my daughter’s bag?”
Kai rolls his eyes, setting my backpack on the cement sidewalk.
Dad turns his attention to me. “Show me your foot. Can you put weight on it?”
“I can. Kai carried me as a joke. I was already walking on it.”
Dad kneels down and examines my ankle and applies pressure around my shoe. “You should get inside and put some ice on it before it swells.”
I wince as he prods around my foot. “That was my plan.”
Dad gets up, watching the discomfort on my face. “Stop pretending it doesn’t hurt. You’re doing a bad job of it.”
“I can walk,” I insist.
“Tabitha, do you know how many times this boy has been in my ER? He’s a menace.”
Kai recoils. “Menace?”
“Yes,” Dad continues, sizing him up, “as in, a danger to yourself and others.”
“We were studying,” Kai says, his tone somewhere between joking and annoyed. “It wasn’t like we were out hang-gliding.”
“Not the point,” Dad says, unamused. “You, Kai, are consistent in hurting yourself with your wild stunts. My daughter spends an afternoon with you and gains a limp.”
“I can walk,” I blurt, stamping my foot out of habit. “Ah, dang it!”
The pain zaps from the ball of my foot up to my knee.
Dad lifts my backpack up and hands it to me. “Tabitha, say goodbye to Kai and get inside.”
“Dad,I…”
“Now, Tabby.”
I shrug and then wave at Kai. “See you at school tomorrow.”
“Sure thing,” Kai replies, backing away from my dad.
“Can I give you a ride home, Kai?” Dad offers.
“I’m cool.” Kai continues walking backwards. “It isn’t far.”
Dad moves toward his car. “Suit yourself, but stick to the sidewalks. I don’t want to see you during my shifts because you started running on the road.”
“A little faith, Dr. Jones,” Kai says, jogging backwards. “Just a little faith, please?”
“Turn around and face where you’re going,” Dad calls out to him. “No one’s impressed.”
I cup a hand over my mouth, giggling as I enter the house.
