“You, on the other hand,” Izzy said, pointing at him and laughing, “…live next door to Kimmy who has a mother that nags and bitches for no fucking reason.”

Riley shook his head. “You are both idiots. My party is going to be the shit. Everyone is coming.” He stood up straight. “If you aren’t there, consider yourself lame.”

I shrugged, and gave Izzy a knowing look. She laughed and I said, “We’ll take our chances.” When he stepped back, I pulled off, swerving as he yelled something rude after us.

“What a dickhead!” Izzy chimed, lowering the visor mirror and checking her glossed lips. She fluffed her black hair and then looked at me with bright green eyes. “So, what are we really doing? Joseph’s last party was totally fucking lame.” She clapped her hands, suddenly having a bright idea. “Oh! I know! Let’s go to LA. Frankie’s mom has an apartment there. We can invite some friends, and I can get Marco to buy us some drinks. We can get wasted and then do the same again tomorrow night.”

I glanced at her before focusing on the road again. Izzy was still my best friend, but I don’t know what made her want to drink and smoke more often. She was becoming this untamed party animal, thirsty for attention. I guess I couldn’t blame her for it, though.

It all started when she lost her virginity to Justin, this preppy rugby player that was a class higher than us. To make a long story short, Justin dumped Izzy when he realized he only had two weeks left before going off to college. My guess is he figured college pussy would be better and more convenient for him than a twelfth grader’s.

I felt for Izzy, and I wanted to kick Justin’s balls up to his throat, but like a champ, she recovered, moving on to Marco. Marco she met at a bar in L.A when she was supposed to be helping her mom bake.

“That doesn’t sound like a fun start of the summer.” I scrunched my nose with disinterest. “Didn’t your dad say your mom was throwing a cupcake party tonight anyway?”

She scoffed. “Yeah, but no thank you! I’m not in the mood to taste every cake she bakes.” Her eyes rolled again.

“Your mom makes the best cupcakes! Are you kidding?”

“I’m pretty sure she’d rather me not show up. She knows I don’t participate. My dad talks too much. I don’t know why he even brought it up the other night. He just did it to make conversation with you. He knows I never show for Mom’s baking parties.” She looked me over through the corner of her eye when I stopped at a stoplight. “It’s like he can never shut up when you’re around. He goes on and on and on.”

I blinked fast, unsure of what to say. There were times when Mr. Black could never shut up. Like when I turned seventeen and finally grew boobs big enough to have all the guys stare at. My hips had rounded out, and softball helped me maintain a slender waist and a flat stomach. My thighs had filled out as well, toned from workouts. Even my face had become smoother, free of acne and blemishes.

I’d learned how to do my hair at a young age, so flat-ironing it or even leaving it curly when I’d wash it was simple. I wasn’t exactly a woman, but I was close enough. And although I was kind of insecure about my body, I knew there were girls that would have died to have it, so I didn’t complain much. Perhaps he was just comfortable with chatting with me, spilling all the family secrets.

We arrived in Primrose in no time. I went home to change out of my uniform and into a black and yellow sundress and sandals. When I jogged down the stairs, I heard the echo of my father’s deep voice. I hadn’t even realized he was home. He must have parked in the garage.

I entered the kitchen, spotting him with his phone glued to his ear. He turned around to the sound of my footsteps and put on a gentle smile when his identical hazel eyes met mine. I exchanged a smile, and then he held up a quick finger, silently telling me to wait a second.

Going for the bar stools at the island counter, I took a seat and picked up a banana. I was done eating it by the time Dad was off the phone.

“I swear they’re trying to kill me,” he muttered, placing his phone on the counter. He shut the screen off and I smiled. I knew he had work to do, but, like always, he gave me some time out of his busy schedule. “So, I have your graduation date marked on my calendar. I know I’ve missed a ton of stuff this year, baby girl, but I won’t be missing that. You have my word.”

I grinned. “Okay. I believe you.”

“What do you say to some lunch tomorrow? Ice cream afterwards maybe? We can hit that old ice cream shack we used to go to right by the beach.”

“That sounds great. But… wait.” I squished my brows together. “You don’t have to work?”

He shrugged. “I can work around it. I’m proud of you. My baby girl is about to graduate high school! Soon she’ll be off to college.” He sighed, almost in disbelief. “Where has the time gone?” Smiling, Dad came around the counter, pinched my cheek, and then kissed my forehead. He started to say something else, but his phone buzzed on the marble counter again. Cursing beneath his breath, he went back for it, checked the name on the screen and then shook his head, his shoulders going into a defeated slump. “Sorry, Chloe. Gotta take this. Plans tonight?”

“Yeah. With Izzy. Last day of school.” I hopped off the stool.

“Oh okay. Well be safe. Call me or your mom sometime tonight so we know you’re still alive.” He answered the phone call and started for the mouth of the kitchen. Before he disappeared, he quickly whispered, “I love you!” and then he was up the stairs, most likely on his way to his office.

Sighing, I tossed the peel of my banana in the garbage can, grabbed my cell phone and then went over to Izzy’s, walking right in. I no longer needed to knock. The Blacks trusted me.

When I walked in, Izzy was coming down the stairs in a tight purple dress. “Oh, Chloe! Hey, can you zip me up please?” She whirled around, bringing her hair over her shoulder.

“Who do you think is gonna show in L.A.?” I zipped the back of her dress, and she turned around, her green eyes meeting my hazel.

“Marco will show, and I’m sure Joey is ditching Riley’s party. He always has pot, too. And he is so fucking into you.” She whispered the last sentence, and just as she did, the sound of a motorcycle’s engine hummed from the driveway. I stiffened. Izzy’s eyes went wide like a deer caught in headlights. “Holy shit! Let me go get a cardigan or something. My dad will flip shit! And don’t tell him where we’re going!” she shouted as she ran up the stairs.

I straightened my back, listening as she scrambled through her closet. She wasn’t the only one nervous about his appearance. I looked down at the seams of my dress, smoothing out the wrinkles with flat palms. My heart picked up speed, and I sighed. What is it with you? Why are you so nervous to see him? You see him almost every day.

It took a while for him to come in. I fidgeted on my feet, glancing at the couch. I could have taken a seat, but I didn’t want to. I wanted him to see me, maybe compliment me on something I was wearing like he always did.

I loved this dress. I’d just bought it. Maybe he would compliment that.

So many crazy thoughts ran through my mind, but they all made sure to shut the hell up as the door creaked open and Mr. Black walked into the house, going through the mail in his hand and, soon, kicking the door shut behind him. When he spotted me, his eyes connected with mine, expanding. “Oh, Chloe.” He put on a smile. “What’s going on, Little Knight?”

“Hi, Mr. Black.”

“Theo,” he corrected.

I laughed. “I feel really weird calling you by your first name.”

“We’re all adults now, right?” he shrugged. “Calling me Mr. Black makes me feel old as hell.”

“But you’re not. You look great—I mean you shouldn’t consider yourself old—” I sealed my lips, heat blazing in my cheeks. “I just mean… you’re not old.”