You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 33
The moment Arch is out of the house, I’m following my father into the kitchen, unsure of how to explain myself.
“It’s not what you think—”
He turns, silencing me with a look. “It’s exactly what I think, Daisy. I have eyes. I saw the way you two looked. Guilty as sin. Both of you looked like you put your clothes back on in a rush.”
Oh God. I didn’t even think about how we looked. I was so jittery, adrenaline pumping through my veins, nervous and excited over the idea of finally getting Arch naked.
I surprised myself.
“I’m glad I came home when I did or else you would be crying in your room right now. Just another girl used and abused by Arch Lancaster.” Dad shakes his head, his disgust clear.
“He didn’t use me. I-I like him. And he likes me. I know he does.” Or maybe I’m an idiot who threw myself at the boy I’m in love with after being apart from him for only a few days.
I felt desperate in that moment. Almost unhinged. When we ended up on my bed, I wasn’t surprised. I wanted it, desperate to know what it would feel like, having him slide into me for the first time. Filling me up.
Making me complete.
“Please. He’s definitely using you, sweetheart. Can’t you see? Didn’t I tell you that boy is no good? Reckless? Impulsive? He’s doing dumb things around campus all the time and constantly getting into trouble, though he rarely receives any punishment. Did you know that?”
I don’t bother answering him.
“I’ve never told on him because what’s the point? Nothing’s going to happen. That boy gets away with damn near murder around this campus almost every day and I’m sick of it. I should report him to Matthews. Say I caught him in my house, doing inappropriate things with my daughter,” Dad continues.
“No. You can’t do that. You’ll ruin everything between us. For him.” I go to my father and rest my hands on top of his, trying to clutch them, but he won’t let me, shaking me off. I’m persistent though and when I finally get a hold of his hands, my gaze locks with his. “I’m in love with him, Daddy.”
The disgusted face he makes has my heart seizing in terror. “Don’t say that.”
“I am.”
“You don’t know what love is. You’re too young. The first boy who pays a little attention to you and you’re gone for him? In love with him? Grow up, Daisy Mae. Don’t be so gullible. You can’t fall for his bullshit.”
I let go of him, backing away. Shocked he would be so dismissive of my feelings. “What he says to me isn’t bullshit. He likes me. He might even be in love with me too.”
Dad peers at me, his brows drawn low. “He hasn’t told you that yet?”
I slowly shake my head, hating how shaky I feel.
“Then you don’t know if he’s in love with you. If he can’t even work up the courage to say it, then he’s not worth your time, darlin’.” He starts to exit the kitchen and I trail after him. “I need to take a shower.”
“We haven’t even been seeing each other for that long,” I blurt.
He stops in his tracks, facing me once again. “If you haven’t seen him for that long, then how do you know you’re in love with him? Like I said, you don’t even know what that is. This is just—it’s lust. You’re full of hormones—and lord knows that boy is too—and he shows you a little bit of attention after you’ve been so shy throughout high school and now look at you. You’re throwing yourself at that boy and letting him feel you up and God knows what else. I won’t have it. He’s not allowed in this house again.”
“Daddy!” I’m crying. The tears are streaming down my face as if I have no control and I follow him through the house, stopping at the doorway of his bedroom. “You can’t just banish him from my life.”
“I can and I will. If I could, I’d do everything in my power to you keep away from him for good, but the more I tell you to stay away from him, the more you’ll want him so that’s pointless.” His mouth thins. “If I don’t want him in my house though, that’s my right. Keep him out of here. He’s a bad influence, sweetheart. You should steer clear of him. He’ll only break your heart.”
I shake my head, unable to form words. My father approaches his bedroom door with me still following him and grabs the handle. “I’m going to take a shower.” He shuts the door in my face and I back away, covering my mouth so he can’t hear my sobs.
Tears blurring my vision, I stumble down the hall and turn into my room, shutting and locking the door behind me before I land on the bed face first. Reaching for my pillow, I gather it in my arms and press my face into it, crying as hard as I want, as loud as I want, grateful it’s muffling how noisy I am.
I cry and cry until it feels like there’s not a drop of moisture left in my body. My eyes burn and my face is swollen. I’m exhausted and I fall asleep, only waking up hours later, my bedroom shrouded in darkness. My father is in the kitchen, banging on pots and pans as he opens and closes cabinet doors, in search of whatever it is he needs to make dinner.
Rolling over onto my back, I stare at the ceiling, slowly coming back to life. My head is still foggy and my eyes still hurt but I sort of feel better. I roll back onto my side and reach for my phone, checking my notifications to find that I have exactly two. One from my father and one…
From Arch.
Dad’s is simple.
I’m making dinner. It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.
I check the time the text sent. That was barely five minutes ago.
Checking Arch’s text fills me with a sort of nervous anticipation that leaves me jittery, and not in a good way.
Arch: I hate what happened, and I wish your dad would let me talk to him. I hope you’re okay. Text me when you can and let me know you’re all right.
I’m immediately texting him back, my fingers so anxious they fumble all over the screen, hitting the wrong keys over and over, making me have to correct myself.
Me: I’m okay. Sorry I fell asleep.
He responds almost immediately, like he was waiting to hear from me and I feel bad for not texting him sooner.
Arch: Is he mad?
Biting my lower lip, I decide to be truthful.
Me: Yeah.
I can’t tell Arch that my father pulled the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ card on me. That will make Arch feel even worse. I know it worked on me. I’m still feeling guilty.
If Dad had come home any later, he would’ve caught us naked. In my bed. Probably having sex. We were well on our way there and I know we would’ve taken it all the way if we hadn’t been interrupted.
Arch: Think he’ll ever talk to me?
Me: What could you say to him?
Arch: That I’m not a piece of shit like he thinks I am. That I care about his daughter and I’m not just fucking around with her.
Swallowing hard, I stare at the words Arch just typed. I can’t deny that my father thinks exactly that, which when you think about it, is funny.
Arch Lancaster is smart. Handsome. He comes from a wealthy family. He’s got it all.
But he’s still not good enough for my father. And if Arch isn’t good enough…
Then who is?