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Starry Eyes

Page 65

   


“Slow down and tell us what happened,” Lennon says.
Avani glances over her shoulder. “From what I’ve been told, Reagan’s mom called your mom, Zorie. And that’s how it all started.”
Oh, God. No, no, no . . .
“Reagan’s dad got sick,” she says, “and they couldn’t fly to Switzerland, and then apparently Reagan came home with Brett, and she was supposed to be at that glamping thing with you. But you guys got kicked out?”
My stomach is turning to stone.
“It was Brett’s fault,” Lennon says.
“Oh,” she says, distracted for a moment before shaking her head. “So, anyway, your dad called Dr. Viramontes yesterday, looking for you.”
“What?” I say, alarmed.
She nods. “Your dad was really upset, and he said he and your mom had tried to get in touch with you, but you weren’t answering texts—”
“Our phones died,” I argue, but all I’m thinking about is that phone conversation with Mom at the ranger station three days ago. She knew!
“—and I guess the last time your mom had heard from you, you told her you’d be here at the star party yesterday, so he was freaking out. And Dr. Viramontes asked me if I knew anything, because your dad was going to call the police and file a missing persons report. And so . . .” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I told him what you texted me a couple days ago. That you were hiking here with Lennon. That you were supposed to arrive yesterday.”
“Oh, God,” I mumble.
“Dr. Viramontes called your dad back and told him. And he assured your dad that we would call when you guys got here. But you didn’t show up last night—”
“We were just running late!” I say, exasperated.
She nods, glancing at Lennon, who is biting out filthy curses under his breath.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I just overheard a few things,” she says. “Your dad is loud when he’s angry. He was saying stuff about the Mackenzies, and how they allowed Lennon to kidnap you.”
“What?” I say, pressing my hands against my temples.
“And I tried to butt in and defend you, Lennon,” she says, glancing over her shoulder again. “But Mr. Everhart is . . . well, he yelled at me, and accused me of aiding and abetting—”
“Oh, for the love of Pete,” I say. “Wait, wait, wait. You said you overheard . . . you said he yelled at you. On the phone?”
Avani bites her lip and shakes her head. “I’m so sorry, Zorie. I texted and called to warn you a couple hours ago, but you didn’t answer.”
And that’s when I look in the direction she’s been glancing. The door to an RV swings open, and three people file outside. Dr. Viramontes is the first. And behind him are my parents.
25
* * *
“Zorie!” my mom shouts from across the campsite, relief in her voice. She rushes ahead of the men and throws her arms around me. “You’re all right.”
“Mom . . . ,” I say, hoping the right words will come out, but I’m stuck between her concern and the shit storm that’s approaching.
She pulls back and holds my face. “You’re fine.”
“I’m fine.”
She moves one of her hands to Lennon’s face. “You’re okay too?”
He nods. His expression is taut.
“What in God’s name is going on?” my father roars over my mother’s shoulder. He’s not talking to me. He doesn’t even give me anything but a cursory look. His eyes are on Lennon, and he pushes my mom aside to get in Lennon’s face. “You snatch my daughter away and take her into the woods?”
“I didn’t snatch anything,” Lennon says, eyes narrowing.
“I asked him to take me,” I tell my dad. “Reagan left us. She was our transportation home. And Lennon knows the park—”
“I don’t give a damn,” my dad says. “Reagan came home five days ago. Five days! You’ve been alone in the wilderness with my daughter—my daughter,” he shouts at Lennon.
“Dan,” my mom says, trying to pull him away from Lennon.
Dr. Viramontes clears his throat. “Zorie, I’m glad to see you and Mr. Mackenzie are well.”
“There was never anything to worry about,” I say, giving him a tight smile. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”
He shakes his head. “I’m just glad you’re all right. I invited you here, so I feel responsible.”
“Damn right, you’re responsible,” my dad snaps. “These are underage kids.”
“I find that most of our club members are smart, self-aware individuals who don’t need a babysitter.”
My dad snorts. “Then you’re obviously not a parent, because these kids don’t know their asses from their faces.”
Dr. Viramontes holds up his hands in surrender. “I told you before, I’m not going to fight with you. Since my club member is seemingly unharmed and accounted for, I will leave you to sort this out among yourselves. I just ask that you don’t upset the other campers. We’re here to witness nature, not disturb it.” Dr. Viramontes glances at me, a look of pity on his face, before he turns to walk away.
My mom gently inserts herself between Lennon and my dad. “Let’s talk about this civilly.”
“The time for being civil has passed,” Dad says.
Something snaps inside my head. I glance back, making sure Dr. Viramontes in out of earshot, and then I turn to my father.
“It absolutely has,” I tell him. “It passed when you threatened Lennon last fall in that hotel. Yeah, that’s right. I know. I know everything.”
“What hotel?” Mom says.
Something close to rage passes over my father’s features. “Oh, really? Did he tell you that I caught him trying to use a stolen credit card and that he took a swing at me?”
“Yeah, and that’s the bruise you told Mom and me that you’d gotten at a construction site,” I shout. “You lied about that. You lied about Lennon. Instead of telling his parents, you took it upon yourself to administer justice that you had no right doing.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” Mom says. “Dan, what’s going on?”
“I caught him trying to get a hotel room for the two of them,” Dad says.
Mom blinks rapidly. When she opens her mouth, a strangled noise comes out.
“That’s right, he did. And my love life is my business alone,” I tell my dad. “You took my best friend away from me. You ruined both of our lives just to keep your dirty little secret.”
A tense silence follows. I can’t believe I just said that. It just . . . came out, and now, as Mom’s eyes narrow quizzically, I wish like anything I could take it back. I glance around to see if anyone at the campground can hear us arguing; no one seems to be paying attention but Avani, who looks as if she can’t decide whether she should stay or go.
“Zorie,” Mom says evenly. “What dirty little secret?”
“Nothing.” I can’t look at my dad. Why did I open my mouth?
“Zorie,” Mom repeats, this time more firmly.
“Lennon was at the hotel because it was homecoming,” I tell her, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Dad was at the hotel because . . . he was seeing another woman.”