I drove the last hour, and Chris slept. Or at least he pretended to sleep. He didn’t look particularly comfortable or restful. Maybe he, too, was working things out in his head. I dropped him off at the station, and we went our separate ways.

I couldn’t wait to get home.

“JESUS, YOU HAD me worried,” were the very first words out of Dad’s mouth when I walked into the house. He came eagerly downstairs as soon as he heard the door open. He was carrying an armload of laundry, but dropped it on the landing when he saw me.

“Sorry,” I said.

He wrapped me in a hug, and then held me out at arm’s distance. “What in the hell were you thinking? What friend? What was in Vegas? You’re eighteen, for Christ’s sake.”

“Almost nineteen,” I muttered, breaking away from him and taking my backpack upstairs. “And just a friend. It was a spontaneous thing.”

“Nikki.” Sharp. I turned. The backpack bounced softly against my leg. “I know you. Spontaneous and Nikki do not go together. Not without trouble. What was going on in Vegas? Who were you with?”

“Fun, Dad. Fun was going on in Vegas. Maybe you wouldn’t recognize it, since you seem to have dedicated your whole life to swearing it off.” I knew I was pushing it, but after everything I’d learned, I was in no place to play nice with Dad. Not anymore.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose. He looked stunned.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I’m young and I want to have a good time. And obviously I can’t have any fun here without having to look over my shoulder all the time. So I went to Vegas with my friend and we had one night of fun and now I’m back. And everyone is safe and everything is fine.” That last part was a bit of a stretch. Everything was so far away from fine I couldn’t even recognize fine anymore.

“And was this friend that guy Chris you were hanging out with before?”

I felt my face burn. “We stayed in separate hotel rooms, if that’s what you’re asking. Dad, we’re just friends. No sex, I promise.” Truth. That seemed like a barrier Chris and I would never, ever cross. “We wouldn’t even think about that. Not with each other.” Lie, Nikki. You know that’s such a fucking lie.

“I still don’t like it,” Dad said. But I could feel Concerned Dad retreating, to be replaced by the usual—Friend Dad. The dad who didn’t really want to be a dad. “Next time, just tell me beforehand, okay?”

“Sure,” I said. It was impossible for me to keep the sourness out of my voice these days, especially when it came to being honest and my dad. I continued up the stairs, but he stopped me.