“We were never close,” I said, wishing the lie was true. If we’d never gotten along, his betrayal wouldn’t have hurt as much.

Mom took my hands and lowered them from my face. “He hurt both of us,” she said, “but I think he’s trying to make amends.”

I glared at her sideways. I didn’t understand why she was trying to be so accommodating to her ex-husband. I couldn’t fathom how she might think I’d want him back in my life.

She squeezed my hands as she got to her feet. “I’m going to give him your cell phone number,” she said, and I bolted upright.

“What?”

“It doesn’t mean you have to answer,” she said, holding up a finger to silence me, “but I’d like to at least give him an opportunity to get to know the young woman you’ve become.”

She started for the door, but I stopped her.

“What else is changing?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them. “You said the terms of the divorce settlement are changing. What else are you guys talking about?”

She paused, her brow furrowed as though she was weighing how much she should tell me. “Financial stuff, mostly,” she said at last. “The house was purchased as a joint asset, and as there were no stipulations in our settlement relinquishing his claim to it, he’s entitled to a portion of the proceeds after we divest of it.”

“So you sell the house and he gets some of the money,” I said, translating her words into normal English.

“Basically. We’ve also agreed to terminate spousal support, he’d like to modify child support, and he’s requesting more time with you.”

“Take partial custody and pay less money,” I said. “Got it.”

“That’s not what this is about.” She’d lowered her voice the way she did whenever she was getting frustrated. This was a woman who didn’t lose control.

“Whatever.” She could’ve spun it any way she wanted and thrown as much legalese into it as she wanted, too. It didn’t change anything. Mom got remarried, so he’d stop paying her alimony. He wanted smaller child support payments but would make up for it by spending more time with me.

“And he’s not asking for custody, either.” She drew a breath and said, “I wouldn’t agree to that.”

I processed it all in silence. My mom was almost at the door when I said, “Is it weird for you? Seeing him again?”

There was another pause as she glanced back at me, this time followed by a sad smile. “A little,” she said. I waited for her to explain, but she turned and left my room, closing the door behind her.

I flopped back onto my bed and looked up at the ceiling. The spider web in the corner was more intricate now, but I knew it was just as delicate as before. The spider must have been busy.

The alarm panel in the hall beeped to signify the front door had opened and closed. I crawled out of bed and moved to the window to watch my father get into the gray sedan in front of the garage. Only when he had driven away did I risk leaving the sanctuary of my bedroom. I grabbed my keys and hurried down the stairs.

“I’m going out,” I announced as I swept past my mother and stepfather in the foyer.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” That was the best answer I could offer. I didn’t know where I was going myself. I reached for the handle and swung open the door.

“Talia!” she called after me when I stepped outside.

“Let her go,” Dr. Griffin said loudly enough for me to hear. “Give her some space. She’ll need some time.”

He and my mom were standing on the front steps when I backed out of the driveway. I didn’t have a destination in mind, but I had to get out of that house and escape the toxicity of my father’s presence.

****

I drove without thinking and found myself in Jake’s subdivision a few minutes later. It was as though my car was on autopilot, guiding me to the one person who understood everything, the one person who never asked for an explanation. I knew he’d made other plans for that afternoon, but even though there was no sense in going to his house, I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. Bianca’s house would’ve been a safe haven if she hadn’t been stuck watching basketball practice again, but I had no desire to go back to school to rescue her. And as much as I loved Ally like a sister, even if I’d have been able to tear her away from Chicago, she’d been too wrapped up in Allyland lately to spare a thought for someone who wasn’t offering bloggable material.

And my problems were definitely not bloggable material.

I pulled into Jake’s driveway and parked off to the side, careful not to block Mr. DeSantos’s parking spot. The garage door opened as I got out of my car, and Mia, Jake’s younger sister, looked surprised to see me.

“Hey, Talia,” she said. “Jake’s not here.”

“Oh.” I tried to keep my voice light.

“Yeah, you just missed him.” Her long black ponytail swayed as she tossed a small duffel bag into the black SUV. She pirouetted a couple of times and finished with an arabesque before she said, “He left a few minutes ago to go to that girl Clover’s house.”

If I hadn’t been so surprised to hear Clover’s name, I would’ve laughed at the disdainful scorn in Mia’s voice, but I nodded and said, “Okay. Thanks.”

“Mom said he needs to be back before we get home from dance class, though,” she said. “The last time he was there, he said they lost track of time.” She rolled her eyes. “He didn’t come home until almost ten. Mom was so mad.”

This was news to me, but I tried not to let it show. I lifted my shoulder in a half-shrug.

Mrs. DeSantos entered the garage with a white garbage bag in hand and smiled. “Talia, dear, I didn’t know you were coming over today.” She dropped the bag into a large black bin. “Jake’s not home.”

“I already told her that,” said Mia as she climbed into the front seat.

“Did you try calling him?” Mrs. DeSantos offered. “He’s got his phone.”

“I’ll do that,” I said with a small smile. “Thanks.”

She got into her car, and I returned to mine. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I opened the door and climbed inside. I glanced at the photo on the screen before I answered.

“Hey, Ally. Since when did Riley let you guys have your phones during rehearsal?”

“Yeah, like that would ever happen,” she said with a derisive snort. I could picture her lip curling up in a sneer as she said it. “She let most of us go early. Kyle hasn’t nailed the choreography for his solo, and Riley’s just over it.”

I laughed. Kyle Mitchell was a junior and had been cast in the role of Billy Flynn, the male lead. Ally complained about him nonstop, saying he may have had a great singing voice, but he had a major block when it came to choreography.

“Seriously,” she said, “I don’t even know how he got cast as Billy. There’s a lot of dancing, and Kyle’s like, ugh.”

There was no sense responding. I knew she wasn’t done yet.

“So the rest of us did the numbers we could do without him, but Riley ended up keeping him and some of the chorus. I think she’s going to make them stay until he nails everything.” All of that had come out in a rush. She paused to take a breath. “Anyway, are you still at Jake’s?”

Her question startled me until I realized I was almost always at Jake’s house after school. Ally didn’t know about his other plans; she’d probably just assumed we were hanging out as usual.

“I’m leaving now,” I said, not untruthfully. “What’s up?”

“Tajuana Willis offered to give me a ride home, and I’m going to see if I can spring Bianca from watching basketball, too. Do you want to meet up at my house?”

It took me a second to process her words. “Now?”

“Sure. Come on,” she pleaded. “You can help me with my French homework.”

I started my car. “My backpack’s at home.”

“What? Why?”

“Um, long story.” I crossed my fingers and hoped she wouldn’t pry.