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Dad clears his throat, wiping a napkin across his lips. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it how it sounded. Right, Candi?”

His girlfriend seems oblivious to the offensive comment, which tracks. Dad never liked dating women with brains. I think it would remind him too much of Mom. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Ozempic. Half of Hollywood is using it, and most of them don’t even need it.”

Dad’s face flushes like he’s embarrassed for himself more than anyone else. Heaven forbid how he must think I feel.

Bodhi looks her dead in the eye. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to say to someone,” he tells her matter-of-factly. His eyes roam over to my father. “And it’s even more fucked up that you’re sitting there letting your daughter be talked about that way without speaking up.”

He straightens. “Well—”

“Nah.” Bodhi cuts him off and tosses his napkin onto the plate of food. “I don’t think I want to hear what you have to say. Because something tells me it’s not going to be anything decent. You ready to go, Olive?”

I stare at the giant hand extended in front of me, blinking at his open palm. “Oh. Uh. Sure?”

I’m not sure why it comes out like a question because I’ve wanted to leave since I parked my car in the driveway.

He pulls me up, tugging me into his side. Then he turns to Candi and says, “The lasagna was mushy.”

Without another word, he guides us to the front door.

“Do you have everything?” he asks.

I nod absentmindedly, still a little mind blown over what just went down. Sure, Sebastian used to defend me whenever Dad acted up. But Bodhi didn’t need to do that. He doesn’t owe me anything.

When we stop by my car, I say, “That was…” I shake my head. Then I snort at his parting words. And my snort turns into a full-blown laugh. Like, the shoulder-shaking kind. “Bodhi,” I wheeze. “Her lasagna wasn’t mushy.”

He grins. “I know. But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. That shit was good. Almost sad to leave it behind.”

Oh God. “You’re the best. You really are. And if we were alone, I’d probably do some dirty shit to you to show my appreciation.”

His eyes light up. “I won’t say no to that.”

“Easy, Tiger. That was a one-time thing.”

Something flashes over his face. “One time, huh?”

Did he want it to be more? “I think that’s for the best, don’t you? You’re Sebastian’s friend. And I like you too much to use you.”

He scratches the side of his neck. “You’re probably right. Do you want to go get some ice cream? I know a place that will knock your tits off.”

I glance down at my chest before lifting my gaze. “That sounds painful.”

His lips stretch. “It’s worth it. Trust me.”

“I’ll follow you then,” I tell him, opening my car door.

He doesn’t go to his truck right away. “What they said in there was bullshit.”

I look at the ground. “I know.”

“That wasn’t fair to you.”

Again, I say, “I know.”

He nudges my foot with his. “I’m sorry. When Bash said your dad can be rough on you, I didn’t expect that.”

Why is he apologizing? “You’re not the one who should be sorry. But my dad…” I shrug. “He will never see that he should be. It is what it is.”

His lips twitch downward. “That isn’t how parents should treat their children.”

What can I say? I’m lucky like that.

“Take me to the ice cream, Hoffman,” I declare, sliding into the front seat. I smile up at him to show I’m fine.

And I am. Because I’ll be replaying the look on my father’s face when Bodhi told him off for the rest of the day. Maybe even the rest of the week.

It’s priceless.

The second I’m away from my father and his girlfriend my mood instantly lightens.

And Bodhi is right about the ice cream.

My tits will never be the same.

*

Mom unleashes hell on my father after I recount the happenings of my day, and I don’t feel bad about the heated phone call that doesn’t sound fun. It’s the least he deserves.

When I’m safely closed into my room, I pull out my cell and let Sebastian know I survived thanks to Bodhi.

Seb: How did it go?

Me: Like it always does

Me: Pretty sure Mom just offered to marry Dad again just so she can divorce him and take more of his stuff LOL

Me: But Bodhi helped. Thanks for the save

Seb: Sorry Dad is a dick

Seb: And that I couldn’t come

Me: You can grace him with your presence next time

Laying the phone on my stomach, I stare at the old posters on the wall across from the bed.

It looks like the 2000s threw up in here thanks to the images of My Chemical Romance and One Tree Hill hanging there.

I used to have an extensive CD collection of angsty music that I loved listening to growing up before CDs became extinct.

Now the shelves are mostly empty, save a few books from old college classes that I don’t know what to do with.

Nibbling my lip, I lift my phone and thumb out another message to the ones I’ve left unanswered for a while now.

Me: I haven’t used your gift yet

Wetting my lips, I stare at the number that I still haven’t saved. Clicking it, I edit the contact and bite down on my inner cheek as my fingers hover over the keyboard.

Bubbles appear at the bottom.

#43: That’s a shame

Me: So Fishtail?

#43: I was in town

Me: That’s a shame

#43: Why is that?

Me: Because I wasn’t there

#43: Good thing you have a vibrator to think about me to tide you over

Me: In your dreams, O’Conner

#43: Only my dirtiest

There’s a knock at my door before Mom pokes her head inside. “Can I come in?”

Sitting up on the bed, I turn my screen off and set my phone down. “Sure. Was Dad still alive by the time you were done with him?”

“He deserved everything I said to him.”

“I think I heard you call him a ‘bitch boy,’” I muse, stretching my legs out over the side of the bed to give her room to sit beside me. “And I’m positive I heard—”

“Like I said,” she cuts me off, “he deserved everything I called him. What I want to know is how you’re feeling?”

I already told her I was fine, but she doesn’t seem to believe me. “I’m okay. Really. Sure, I’m annoyed with him, but what’s new? He’ll never change. You’ve said that before too.”

Those minty eyes everyone says they’re jealous of dull with sadness. “I hate that for you, though. It makes me want to…” She thinks about it. “Well, I don’t know. It makes me want to do nothing legal, that’s for sure.”

I snort. “You’re too pretty for jail, Mom.”

She playfully nudges me. “It was lovely of Bodhi to swoop in for the rescue. I’m glad you two are friends.”

Despite knowing what he feels like inside of me, friends seem like the perfect way to describe what we are. “Me too. And I ate some of the best ice cream of my life after the shitstorm of a lunch. So it turned the day around.”

She pats my leg supportively. “I’m happy to hear that then.”

We fall into silence for a few seconds.

I glance down at my phone, but no new messages pop up.

“Mom?” I ask quietly.

“Yes, sweetie?”

I turn to her, trying to hold back my laugh. “Did you really call Dad a bitch boy?”