She didn’t have the courage to slam the door herself.

A lecture had to be forthcoming, but when her father got in the car, he didn’t say anything. Just switched on XM Radio, the classical station.

He only listened to classical when he was furious.

“Dad,” she whispered, “I’m really—”

“Not now, Layne.”

His voice was a smack across the face, disappointment and disgust and fury all contained in three words. She fell back against the seat.

But Simon tapped her leg. His eyes were red, some combination of fear and anger. With rain on his cheeks, he looked like he was simultaneously ready to cry and put his fist through the car window.

It’s okay, she signed. I’ll tell him it was my fault.

Simon brushed her hands aside, his way of telling her to shut up.

Then he glanced at the front seat of the car, the way her father’s hands were practically molding the steering wheel into a new shape.

Simon looked back at her. I hate him.

Layne remembered her thoughts from the kitchen, when she’d wondered about what she always saw and what was really there.

After hearing her father denigrate Gabriel and his brother, it made her want to realign everything she knew about her father.

And about herself, too.

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 28

Gabriel couldn’t get the music loud enough. Maybe if he put a pillow over his head. His eyes were fixed on the white drywall of his bedroom ceiling, his iPod earbuds pressed into his ears so tightly that they were beginning to hurt.

He was trying to block out the sound of Layne’s father’s voice, which kept replaying in his head like it was on some kind of loop.

His door opened, and Michael filled the doorway.

Gabriel yanked the headphones out of his ears, but music still poured out against his comforter. “Ever hear of knocking?”

He wanted his voice to be sharp, but he couldn’t generate the usual anger.

He’s not worthless. And you’re out of line.

“I did knock,” said Michael. “Three times.”

Oh. Gabriel pushed PAUSE on the iPod and looked back at the ceiling. “Sorry.”

He was ready for the lecture about the lightning, about lying, but Michael just stood there, keys jingling in his hand. “I still need to go to Home Depot. Want to come?”

He didn’t want to. But the alternative was sitting alone in his bedroom, feeling lightning in the air. Regretting the afternoon.

So again, they headed out in the truck, Michael mostly quiet, the wipers snicking back and forth against the windshield.

Gabriel couldn’t take it. He looked over. “I’m sorry.”

Michael didn’t look away from the road. “Did you know?”

“Did I know what?”

“That she wasn’t allowed over?”