The Queen B* and the Homecoming King by Crista McHugh

Author:Crista McHugh [McHugh, Crista]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crista McHugh
Published: 2015-12-15T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I plopped facedown onto my bed and muffled my scream of frustration with the mattress. I couldn’t even…

ARGH!

This day could not get any worse.

I needed someone I could vent to, but Brett was in surgery, Morgan still hated my guts, and Richard wouldn’t rise before noon on a Saturday, especially since he’d claim to need his beauty sleep before his big date tonight. That left only one person.

My dad.

I jumped up from my bed and booted up my computer. A minute later, my dad’s face filled the screen as he answered my Skype call.

“Hey, princess,” he began before taking a look at my face. “Oh…”

“That obvious?” I asked, sinking down into my desk chair and propping my chin on my closed fist.

“Who pissed you off now?”

I loved that my dad could read me like a book. Outside of my little circle of friends, he was the only person who really got me. “Can I move in with you?”

“What did you and your mom fight over this time?”

I’d never asked to move in with him before. Sure, I’d spent a few weeks every summer with him, but we were usually on the road camping or going to concerts or hiking the Appalachian Trail. I think I’d stayed a total of ten nights in his actual home over the years, but I remembered it was cute. My dad was a philosophy professor at a small liberal-arts school in Vermont, and his home was a turn of the century cottage covered with ivy.

“Please, Dad?”

He ran his hand over his salt-and-pepper beard. “You only have a few months until graduation, princess. Can’t you tough it out?”

Translation: Dad thought having me around would ruin his chances of banging his students.

I rolled my eyes. “Never mind, Dad. Sorry I bothered you.”

I went to click the close button and end the call, but he stopped me with a frantic, “No, no, no. If you’re considering moving across the country in the middle of your senior year, something must have upset you, so let’s talk.”

I let go of the mouse and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Does this have anything to do with that frat party last weekend?”

I snapped my attention back to the screen. “How did you know about that?”

“Your mother told me.”

“Wait a minute—you two still talk?” My parents divorced when I was five, probably because my mom caught him in bed with one of his grad assistants. He moved across the country, and that was the only reason their split had remained somewhat amicable.

“Yes, we still talk. Or rather, we email.”

Which would explain why the communication had lasted this long.

I didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm that crept into his voice as he continued, “Your mother sends me weekly updates on you and your sister and encourages me to set a good example when I talk to you.”

“So since you heard all about the frat party from her, you should know the biggest consequence of that night is the fact Morgan isn’t speaking to me now.

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