Page 121 of Broken Ties (Rixon High 4)

Poppy

The short carride back to our house was tense. Dad could barely look at me, let alone talk to me.

“I said I’m sorry.”

He scoffed. “And I suppose you think that fixes everything?”

“No. I just… it doesn’t matter.”

He pulled into our driveway and parked beside Mom’s car, cutting the engine.

“Look, Poppy. I get it. You’re seventeen. Life is one big party.” He blew out a strained breath. “But you got hurt, sweetheart. You got into a fight.”

“Oh my God, Dad, I wasn’t in a fight. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened anywhere.”

“But it didn’t happen anywhere. It happened in a bar you weren’t supposed to be in. I can’t believe Peyton—”

“Please don’t bring her into this. I’m a teenager, Dad. We mess up. Everyone’s acting like we planned on getting wasted and hooking up with a bunch of guys.” His nostrils flared at that, but I kept going. “It was just a few cocktails at what we thought was a relatively nice bar. That’s all.”

“You’re just lucky Aaron didn’t call me. Because if I’d have found you at some bar in this… this state, I’m not sure I would have been able to keep my cool.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re a good kid, Poppy. And I know you think we leave you to your own devices a lot, but it’s because you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, sweetheart. It’s because we trust you.”

Pressing my lips into a thin line, I nodded.

“Come on.” His eyes flicked up at the house. “She’s been worried sick.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She was probably too busy video calling Lily to even notice I was gone.

“Poppy…”

“Fine.” I held up my hands before climbing out of the SUV. Mom didn’t greet us at the door. Instead, I found her in the kitchen, nursing a mug of coffee.

“Hi, Mom,” I said.

She took one look at my face and shot out of her chair, rushing over to me. “Oh, baby. Look at you.” Her arms went around me and she held me tight.

Dad caught my eye and I knew exactly what he was thinking. Told you so.

“Okay, Mom. Can’t breathe,” I wriggled out of her vise-like grip. She held me at arm’s length, inspecting my bruise. “Does it hurt?”

“I’ll live.”

“Jesus, Poppy. When I think about what could have happened… and after how I left things between us. You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“We’re just glad you’re okay. Aren’t we, Jase?” She cast her gaze to where Dad stood, leaning against the doorjamb. He reminded me of a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Yeah.” His expression softened a fraction. “But I’m debating whether to ground you until prom.”

“Dad, you can’t, that isn’t—”

“Relax, I’m not going to do that. But I am going to say if I ever get a call like that again—”

“You won’t, I swear. I’m done with bars. I’ll wait until college for all that.” I fought a smile.

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