Spark by Brigid Kemmerer

couldn’t bear the thought of sitting in the living room, pretending to watch a movie while her dad sat right there.
    Damn Gabriel Merrick. She should have slapped him. No, punched him.
    Then I’m going to need another fifteen minutes.
    To her father, of all people. Her father.
    Her door creaked open, a whisper of wood against carpeting.
    The hall light was off, but she could make out her father’s sil-houette.
    He probably thought she was asleep. He didn’t say anything.
    “I’m still awake,” she said.
    “Are you all right?” He didn’t move from the door. “You didn’t say much at dinner.”
    God, what could she say? Her cheeks felt warm again, just remembering that little drama in the hallway. She knew better than to invite some meathead sports junkie into the house. She probably should have offered to teach him manners before math.
    At least she didn’t have to worry about Simon rambling about Gabriel. Her brother spent dinnertime glaring at their father, refusing to communicate.
    “Are you mad at me?” her father said.
    She swung her head around. “At you? No, of course not.”
    He came the rest of the way into the room, but he hesitated by the side of her bed. Early moonlight streamed through the window and caught the strands of gray in his hair, making him look older than he was. “I thought I might have embarrassed you.”
    Layne grit her teeth. “Well, I was embarrassed, but it wasn’t your fault.”
    “You sure?”
    She scooted back in bed, sitting up to lean against the wall.
    “He really did come over to study, you know.” Her cheeks flamed again. “No matter what he said.”
    “May I sit down?”
    Her father usually wasn’t this distant. Not once she had his attention, anyway. “Dad. Yes. I’m not mad.”
    He sat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re growing up, Layne, and I know you’re going to be interested in boys. I wish your mother ”
    “Stand up. I changed my mind.”
    He smiled, but it was grim. “You’re under a lot of stress,” he said. “If it’s too much, I want you to talk to me. We can find ”
    “We’re all under a lot of stress, Dad.” She gave him a dark look. “I’m fine.”
    He didn’t flinch from the look, but then again, he sat across a table from alleged murderers every other day. “I know what high school boys are like, Layne. I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re looking for an outlet.”
    Her eyebrows went way up. “An outlet? ”
    “I know you know what I mean.”
    Her cheeks were hot again. “Gabriel Merrick isn’t going to hurt me, Dad. He’s a dumb jock who can’t pass math. He’s not interested in me.” She rolled her eyes. “And I’m not looking for an outlet.”
    “You sure? Because he’s the first boy you’ve ever brought home.” He gave her a very level look, his voice taking on the first shadow of anger. “And I find it interesting that you went for someone older, someone who acts like a future felon, not two weeks after ”
    “To study, ” she snapped. “He gave us a ride because we missed the late bus.”
    “If he came over to study, I would have found you in the kitchen.”
    She folded her arms across her chest, but before she could say anything else, he put a hand on her shoulder.
    His voice was gentler. “Layne, I’m not accusing you of anything.”
    “Sounds like it.”
    “I just want you to be safe. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot.” He paused. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much lately.”
    She looked up at him, feeling a flash of guilt. “It’s not your fault. We all have to do our part.”
    He took her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead.
    “Thanks for taking on so much.”
    She nodded.
    He stood and moved toward the doorway. She slid back under the covers.
    But then he stopped before closing the door. “Layne?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Don’t bring him over here when I’m not home.”
    Like there was much chance of that. But still. Anger made her sit straight