"I'm not going to the dance, Dad." I glared. "Not with anyone." I added, to make the situation as clear as possible.
"Didn't anyone ask you?" he asked, trying to hide his concern by focusing on rinsing the plate.
I sidestepped that minefield. "It's a girl's choice."
"Oh." He frowned as he dried his plate.
I sympathized with him. It must be a hard thing to be a father, living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked, but also living in fear that she wouldn't. How ghastly it would be, I thought, shuddering, if Charlie had even the slightest inkling of exactly what I did like...
Having finished washing his plate, pan, and fork, Charlie left with a goodbye wave, and I went upstairs to brush my teeth, and masturbate. I had gotten a little hot and bothered when I started worrying about Charlie figuring out my sexual preference. When I heard the cruiser pull away, I could only wait a few seconds before I had to peek out of my window again to make sure. The silver Volvo car was already there, waiting in Charlie's spot on the driveway. I bounded down the stairs and out the front door, wondering how long this bizarre routine would continue. I never wanted it to end.
He waited in the car, not appearing to watch as I shut the door behind me without bothering to lock the house's deadbolt. I walked to the car, pausing shyly before opening the door and stepping in. He was smiling, relaxed—and, as usual, perfectly beautiful to an excruciating degree.
"Good morning." His voice was so silky I wanted to wear it, or at least roll around in it. "How are you today?" His eyes roamed over my face, as if his question was something more than simple courtesy. He really wanted to know how I was doing today.
His gaze lingered on the circles under my eyes. "You look tired."
I immediately overreacted. "I can get surgery!" I yelped.

228

Chapter 11

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