Page 39 of Little Pieces of Light

“I’m so sorry, Xander,” I said, taking his hand and entwining my fingers with his. “Your dad is wonderful. It only took a minute to fall in love with him.” I smiled gently. “Must run in the family.”

Xander kissed the back of my hand. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“But my dad on the other hand…” I gave myself a shake. “I’m about to go into battle. Before we get to my house, I need to call for reinforcements.”

I pulled out my phone—my stomach clenching at all the texts and missed calls from my parents—and called Harper.

“Emery” she said sleepily. “It’s early.”

“Harper, I need your help.”

I gave her a quick recap of last night and asked if she’d cover for me if my parents called.

“Of course, I will. Tucker, that asshole,” she snapped. “Jesus, Em, I’m sorry I missed your call last night. Are you okay?”

I glanced at Xander. “Never better.”

“Thank God. And yes, I can hear you smile. Tell Xander I said hi, I told you so, and that I’m proud of him for finally getting his head out of his ass.”

I grinned. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks, Harper.” I hung up. “You get all that?”

Xander chuckled. “Loud and clear.”

***

We arrived at my neighborhood with the sun fully risen. Xander idled the car on the street, out of sight from my house.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. “Because I can’t let you go up there if it’s not safe.”

“I’ll be okay. I have to stand up for myself, even if it’s just one baby step at a time.”

“That’s more than a lot of people ever do for themselves,” Xander said. “You’re braver than you know.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile. “ I needed to hear that .”

He leaned over, his hand cupping my cheek like it had during our last tutoring session and kissed me.

I was glad to be sitting down, because just like last night, his kiss made my knees weak.

The scent of his soap on his warm skin mingled with the taste of him that was so clean and good.

I didn’t know how I could want something so badly that was already happening, but that’s what kissing Xander felt like.

I was there, kissing and being kissed, and still it wasn’t enough.

“Call me later,” he said.

“I will.”

I grabbed the bag carrying my coat, shoes, and ruined dress, and walked up the long drive to the house, barefoot and in Xander’s clothes.

Inside, my parents were at the kitchen island, both in their pajamas, my dad on his phone.

“Hold on, officer. She’s home. Thank you.”

He set his phone on the counter and glared icy daggers at me while my mother’s eyes fell closed in relief.

Dad crossed his arms. “Well?”

“ Grayson ,” Mom snapped. She turned to me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

Her bleary gaze took me in and then sharpened on Xander’s sweatshirt, which read Langdon School, Bethesda, Maryland, with the school’s seal—a sun breaking from behind a mountain—in the center.

Shit. I had no good excuse for wearing a boy’s clothes. My nervousness ratcheted up, making it hard to think.

“Where have you been?” Dad demanded.

“At my friend, Harper’s.”

“Harper who?”

“She’s a new friend. She took me in last night after Tucker left me stranded on a deserted road in the middle of a monsoon.”

Mom’s hand flew to her throat. “He did what?”

“After the election party, Tucker drove me to a secluded spot, tried to get me to have sex with him, and then kicked me out of his truck when I said no.”

My parents stared at me with conflicting expressions—my mom’s horrified, my dad’s startled and unsure.

“Why didn’t you come here?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t want to,” I said, my lip quavering. “I needed to be with…my friend.”

“You could have called or answered one text.”

“I was too upset, okay? And we’re broken up now, so I don’t want to talk about Tucker ever again.”

They exchanged glances, my mother glaring at my father.

“And if I call this Harper?” he said.

“Jesus, Grayson,” Mom hissed. “Emery’s home safe now. What else matters?”

Dad seemed about to let it go; I thought I was home free…and then it was his turn to notice my outfit. “What are you wearing?”

“Harper has a brother,” I blurted stupidly, but then the hurt swooped in, giving me courage.

“And is that what you care about, Dad? Tucker left me in the freezing rain after trying to…” I clenched my jaw.

I would not cry. I would not . “But call Harper if it’s so important. Go ahead. I’ll give you the number.”

For the first time in my life, I met my dad’s gaze head on. I felt like puking, but he didn’t need to know that.

“For God’s sake, leave her alone,” Mom whispered.

“Fine,” Dad said, after the longest moment of my life. “But we have something else to talk about, Emery. Namely, how you earned a C-minus on your calculus midterm.”

I eased a breath, loosening my clenched stomach, but anger was still boiling up in me, and there was so much more of it than I thought. Years’ worth, and it was all going to come bursting out if I wasn’t careful.

“You made me fire my tutor, remember?” I snapped. “You kicked him out of the house, remember ?”

“Watch your tone, young lady,” Dad said. “He ‘tutored’ you for weeks. You should, at the very least, have a rudimentary understanding of the math.”

“I told you, it doesn’t stick. It’s not what I’m good at or what I’m passionate about. I want to design—”

“Your only job is to get good grades. Your admission to Brown is riding on that. But if you’re still struggling, then you need to drop the superfluous nonsense like the prom committee.”

“No!” I cried, shocked at my own volume. “I won’t do it. I’ll drop dance, but I’m working really hard to come up with a theme for prom, and I have so many ideas—”

“Prom committee isn’t something that will impress an Ivy League school.

” He reached for his phone and turned to go.

He was going to walk out of the room and that would be the end of it.

Frustration and anger raced through my veins, but stupid tears came to my eyes.

My thoughts became a jumble, like they always did when confronting him, and I couldn’t spit them out.

“That sounds reasonable,” Mom said suddenly.

We both stopped to stare at her. She smoothed the sleeve of her silk bathrobe.

“If she must drop anything, she can drop dance. You may keep your prom committee commitments, Emery.”

A balloon of relief and hope expanded in my chest. “Really?”

Dad bristled. “Now, wait a minute—”

“I presume you have a budget meeting with the Board of Trustees very soon?” Mom asked me. “A sudden change of leadership on the prom committee wouldn’t sit well with them. Not to mention, it’d be quite unprofessional for a Wallace to suddenly quit.”

I nodded but didn’t dare speak.

Mom gave my dad an imperious look—identical to the one I used to wear at school—then slipped off the stool with her coffee mug.

“Then it’s settled,” she said. “I’m glad you’re home safe and that your friend, Harper , was such a help. But next time, at least send a text if you’re going to be out all night.”

Dad and I watched her walk out, leaving us in icy silence. Then he turned to me, his tone as flat as ever. “It would be a mistake to believe you’re in the clear, here. Fix your math grade, Emery, or there will be consequences.”

He started to go but I couldn’t help myself from blurting, “Aren’t you sad for me that I broke up with Tucker? I know how happy you were when we got together.”

Oh my God…

I couldn’t believe I’d said that—insinuations about the Hills’ usefulness to him ringing loud and clear in our spacious, immaculate kitchen.

But Dad was scarily matter-of-fact.

“Tucker’s father lost his bid for reelection.

He’s a loser. We don’t associate with losers.

” He started to go, then stopped, his gaze dropping noticeably to my borrowed sweatshirt.

“And Emery, if I were to hear that you broke things off with Tucker only to take up with someone of poor standing in the community, I will revoke your prom committee privileges. Is that clear?”

I nodded mutely. When he was gone, I sagged against the island, my legs shaking, then nearly jumped out of my skin at a voice at the door.

“How does it feel?”

Jack leaned in the entry to the kitchen, dressed in a faded black T-shirt and black sweatpants.

“How does what feel?” I asked dully.

“Standing up to the Munsters.”

“Pretty terrible,” I said. “But also kind of good. Mom defended me, at least.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jack said, pushing himself off the wall. “She always caves, eventually. Just ask Grant. Oh, that’s right,” he said bitterly. “We can’t.”

“What does that mean, Jack? Jack… ?”

But he’d already walked away.