That’s a girl, Eden. It’s time to stand up to him, you’re old enough to make your own damn choices. If you want to be with Drew—you’re gonna have to fight for it.
“Did you think I was joking, Eden! I made myself perfectly clear when we first had this conversation. If you ever started running around with boys, I’d take the actions necessary to stop it,” He poured another finger of scotch and took a sip as he stared me down with disapproval. “How long have you been keeping this from me?”
I fisted my hands as the rage continued building inside me, and my nails bit into the tender flesh of my palms. “Drew started taking an interest shortly after he rescued me from the incident last year with Clarissa and her friends,” I answered through clenched teeth.”
He slammed his glass down on the fireplace mantel, sloshing its contents over the rim, and shouted, “Almost a year, you’ve been seeing him for almost a year!”
I shot to my feet, the anger flowing freely, “No, Dad, I have only been seeing him a few days! It took him almost a year to convince me he was worth the risk of lying to you! What would you have said if I’d come to you, told you that I wanted to start dating Drew? Would you have given me your blessing? I doubt it! You would have sent my request for approval down in a fiery blaze! Over the years, you’ve made it impossible for me to tell you the truth in the matters of what my heart wants, you saw to that when you threatened to send me away at thirteen! If I ever even entertained the idea of a boyfriend...” I closed my eyes, hands fisted at my side and struggled for calm, “What kind of father robs his only daughter of the normal experience of a high school romance? I’m sure even you had at least one, and please don’t say it’s different because you couldn’t get pregnant. Please don’t be that guy—the sexist guy!”
When I finished, and Dad just stood there, staring in open-mouthed shock, the weight of what I’d just said and how it had left him without words weighed me down with guilt. It wasn’t like me to be so blatantly disrespectful.
His expression was blank for several moments like he was in a trance. When he finally snapped back to reality, his face purpled with anger, and he crossed the floor to where I stood to tower over me. Looking down his nose with contempt, he made me feel small.
“You will call this boy, right now, and tell him you never want to see him again, or so help me God, you’ll be going to the all girl’s school down in Dallas.” He took his cell from his shirt pocket and held it out to me. “Right now, where I can see you do it.”
I looked at the phone between us, then shifted my gaze to his angry brown eyes, and in a cold, clear tone said, “No, I won’t. I’m not going to let you decide who I can care about, it’s my choice, not yours.”
“Now, Eden! This is my house, and you will listen to me, or…”
“Or what, you’ll kick me out? Send me away? It won’t matter in eleven months anyway. Or, are you going to take it a step farther and start physically reprimanding me this late in the game? Because you see, you’ve never had to do that because, for the most part, I do the right things, make the right choices!”
“Watch your tone with me, girl. You will do as I say, now call that boy!”
Taking a step closer, I made it clear that I wasn’t willing to back down as I looked him dead in the eye and said, “No! I like Drew, and he isn’t going anywhere.” I turned and started walking away before I said something I’d regret.
“Eden, damn it, I am your father, and you will listen to me!”
There was no escape, the anger had closed in, and blinded me with the heaviness of it I was steeping in. Slowly, I shifted to face him and made sure my next words were crystal clear, so I wouldn’t have to say them twice.
“Actually, Daryl, no—you aren’t, and on this—no—I won’t.”
I spun on my heel and raced up the stairs before he could say another word, or see me shed the first of many tears. Not because I hadn’t gotten my way, but because I’d done the one thing, I’d told myself I’d never do. I used the You’re not my Dad card.
****
The yelling and lecturing had gone on for two days. He was trying to get me to submit to crumble under his parental authority. Every raised voice, every attempt he made to make me see it his way, was met with silence. The following two days were a series of silent dinners and no eye contact before he finally cracked and offered an olive branch.
“You really care about this Drew kid, don’t you?”
“Yes, and he isn’t a kid, Dad.”
Sighing, he slid my phone across the kitchen table, “Apparently, he feels the same about you. Your phone has buzzed non-stop for the last few days. Despite you not answering any of his texts, he hasn’t stopped. I don’t see how he had time to do anything else. I can’t fault that kind of dedication, Eden.”
I peeked at Dad through my eyelashes and tried to hide the
