Cut Read Free

stupid poster with the kitten on it. You know the one that says ‘hang in there’? Then I put balloons and hearts all over it.”
    I almost choked, inhaling. “Are you kidding me? That’s hilarious!” Maggie puffed up, pleased with her cleverness.
    As much as we were alike in our personalities, Maggie and I were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to appearances. I had inherited my father’s height, but thankfully not his girth. Maggie was lucky to stretch to a full five feet. Whereas my hair was long, curly and dark, hers was cropped close to her head and almost white blonde. Maggie joked if we were road signs I would be Dangerous Curves Ahead, and she would be Slow Children at Play.
    “I was going to make it all dark and black to flip her out, but I figured there were enough douche bags doing that, being serious, thinking they were being all non-conformist and shit. It probably freaks her out more to think there’s a happy, optimistic kid in the class.”
    “That’s classic. Can’t wait to see what you get on it.”
    “What did you do?”
    “Oh, this stupid little poem thing. Nothing major. She’s the type to give an A because you turned something in. I didn’t put a lot of time into it.”
    It was true. With everything that had happened the night before the assignment was due, I barely spent ten minutes throwing some words together on a piece of notebook paper.
    Dad was home that night. When I got back from whatever it was I did to stay away as long as possible, Mom had already passed out. To be fair, it was after nine—long past her evening sober window. The minute I walked in the door, he ended his call. I wondered which one of the chippies he was talking to.
    He ran his hand over his completely bald head, a nervous habit. It was a holdover from the days when he still had hair, which was when I was an infant. Mom said he began losing it in his early twenties. Instead of fighting it, he shaved it all off.
    When I was little I loved the stubbly feel when he didn’t take the time to shave on the weekends. I would run my hands over his head, tickling my own palms and laughing wildly. Then we would run through the house, me squealing and him growling. When he finally caught me he would nuzzle the underside of my chin with his stubble. I would shriek louder and louder until Mom would finally holler for both of us to quiet down. In those moments he was my Daddy, and I loved him.
    “Where the hell have you been?” His tone was full of fake indignation. He knew as my father he should have been worried I was out after dark and hadn’t called to let him know my whereabouts. The truth was he probably hadn’t realized I was gone until I appeared at the front door.
    “Out. I didn’t think you were home. You were supposed to be on a trip.”
    “It got cancelled, and that’s no excuse. You should have called.”
    “Sorry. I need to go do my homework.”
    “Persephone, this is not a hotel. You cannot just come and go as you please.” Pot meet kettle. “You may think you’re all grown up, but you’re still living under our roof. There are rules. It is downright inconsiderate to make your mother and me worry about you like this.” Dear God, why did his trip have to get cancelled? With Mom incapacitated I was the one who had to deal with his foul humor. He was really going to try to do the whole parenting thing. I just wanted to get away.
    “I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again. Dad, seriously. I have a lot of homework to do.”
    “Whatever.”
    I should have known it wouldn’t end there. He needed something to keep himself entertained if he was going to be stuck at the house. I was only in the shower for a few minutes when I heard the bathroom door open. I could see his silhouette through the shower curtain—which meant he could see mine.
    “I thought you said you had homework to do, Persephone.” Get out, get out, get out, my brain screamed.
    “I do, but I needed a shower.”
    “Why?