Neither of us takes a sip, but Im convinced hes lying.
I cocked my head to the side. Did I bring what? Sunblock?He cannot not bring himself to say the word protection, or condoms, or birth control. Dad is the reserved one in my parents relationship, while my mother is an extrovert. The balance has always been a positive one—except when it comes to shit like this.
Lord help him, he sucks at giving me lectures. Always has.Has no countenance for it, while Mom would probably be whipping out a diagram and drawing me a picture. Or pulling a strip of condoms out of her purse—the ones with her book logo on them.Two sets of nice clothes?
Sterling, if youre being coy with me, I dont appreciate it.Coy, Dad? Thats such a Mom word.
Your mother is the one who wanted me to have this talk with you.
What talk? Seriously Dad, I dont know what youre getting at.Where the hell is Scarlett?
I check my phone again, then look out into the dark neighborhood, watching the sidewalk. Check for the familiar sight her black winter coat, earmuffs, and scuffed Chuck Taylors—but there is still no sign of her.Those girls shes come with a few times are inside, having arrived the better part of an hour ago, and I debate whether I should stay standing outside longer, the conversation we had a few weeks ago playing on a loop in my mind.
How long would you be willing to wait for me to show up?Liar. Try again or Im not showing you whats in here. That was the night she brought me food.