"You're proud of me?"
He nods. "I'm sorry I haven't told you that enough. I'm sorry I haven't shown you. It has been hard, Oliver. I've spent the last few years terrified I'd never be able to help you. But that's no excuse."
He's apologizing.
He's proud of me.
What the fuck?
"You're a good kid. Even if you lied about fucking your sister's best friend." He laughs. "When your mom told me she was pregnant, I never thought one day, I'd be marveling at how similar my kids 'oh shit, Dad realized I'm fucking my sibling's best friend' face is."
"They don't talk about that in parenting books?"
He shakes his head. "But it is. You and Daisy. You two are so similar."
"Fucked up with an unhealthy relationship to control."
"You're doing better."
"I am?"
"You spent the entire night at a party," he says. "How did it feel?"
"Awkward."
"Did you want to drink?"
"Yeah."
"As much as you did at first?"
"No. But… I think… maybe you were right."
Surprise registers over his expression. "I was right?"
"Don't rub it in."
He chuckles. "I guess that's fair. If you'll do the same."
I offer my hand.
He shakes.
"I wasn't trying at first. I was just trying to wait it out. Go back to drinking again. And now… there's all this shit in my head. This shit I tried to block out. And other stuff. That I couldn't access before. But I… it's too much. I think I need help. Dealing with it."
"Okay."
"Maybe… that class is stupid," I say. "But the meetings are okay. And maybe I need…"
"A professional?"
"Yeah." I run my hand through my hair. Fuck, this is awkward. I've never asked for help before. I've never admitted I need it. But I do. "It's really fucking hard."
He nods.
"But it's good too. Like the world is in color again."
"Love does that to you."
"Yeah. It does… but it's not just her. It's everything."
He nods. "You love her?"
"A lot."
"I'm your dad. I'm legally required to repeat the wisdom about not starting relationships right out of rehab."
"I didn't go to rehab."
"Maybe you should."
Maybe. Or—"Maybe that's moving backward."
"I'll trust your take on it." He looks me in the eyes. "I should say wait. Don't risk latching onto her. Making her your new addiction. But I've seen you two grow up together. Since long before this. She's always been good for you. And you've been good for her too."
"I ended things."
"I know." He pulls his cell from his pocket. "Your friend Holden spilled all the details."
I can't help but chuckle. "Of course."
"And a few I really didn't want to hear. Kurt Cobain seducing a young pop star." He shakes his head how wrong.
"Does it help that she was Kurt?"
He chuckles. "I am proud of you, Oliver. For trying. And for trying to do what's right by her and your sister."
"Yeah."
"I'm sure they'd both prefer if I lobbied for love. Said something about how it conquers all. How you two can get past this. But I—"
"Why would you think love conquers all?"
"I know it doesn't. You know that too. But sometimes it tips the scale. Sometimes it's enough, to have a reason to try."
Maybe.
"And sometimes… you're not ready. Sometimes, you need to figure your shit out before you can be with someone else. So, I won't tell you what to do with this girl. But if you want to talk, I'm here."
"What do you know about girls?"
"Enough."
"How? There's Mom and…"
He chuckles. "There are others."
"There are not."
"Not compared to you, maybe."
I can't help but laugh. "Are you calling me a slut?"
"I'm just pointing out the numbers." His gaze shifts to the desk. A sketchbook in the corner. "You're a tough guy, Oliver. You followed your own path. It scared me sometimes, but that's what I've always wanted for you. And your sister. I want to see you healthy and happy." He looks to me. "So, whatever I can do to make that happen, tell me, and I'll try."
Maybe.
Maybe there's something he can do.
And Holden.
If I'm ready to fight for her. For us.
For myself.
Am I?
Chapter Forty-Seven
Luna
I wake on the couch. Next to the still sleeping Daisy. With the familiar lull of Dawson's Creek in the background.
And Holden upstairs. He actually gave us space. And did who knows what to Oliver.
I'm not sure what to expect. Or when I can face him. Right now…
I leave a note for my best friend and her boyfriend. Find my things. Slip out the door.
It's still early. The sun is just starting to rise. The sky is a glorious shade of pale blue. The cold air smells like salt.
Everything is fresh and clean and new. A classic morning by the beach. My wake-up call nearly every day of spring all through high school.
Ah, six a.m. practices, how I don't miss you.
But I do miss this. The feeling of being the only person awake. Of seeing a different side of the world. This delicate beauty. This awe-inspiring power.