Headstrong Like Us (Like Us 6)

Just like that, pressure ascends off my chest.

I grip the crook of his neck and kiss him on the lips, a tender kiss. Too fleeting, but I’ll be back. And as I leave the dining room, I follow my parents into their home office.

It’s not a stuffy place.

X-Men movie posters hang on the walls, and stained-glass lamps illuminate a desk and some cherry-hued tufted chairs.

My mom plops down on the wheeled office recliner. And my dad—he stands beside a purple filing cabinet, only inches from my mom. He doesn’t touch her. It’s so damn weird.

Usually they’re all over each other.

My muscles are tensed. Burning. I’m fixed and unyielding, even though there’s a part of me that’s afraid to have more answers. Because I’m scared—really fucking scared for them.

I can count on my hand the number of times I’ve felt that. They’re the definition of strength. Always have been. I’ve seen them battle this monster my whole life. They struggle, they fall, but they rise again. Every damn time.

“What the hell is going on with you two?” I ask.

“Nothing’s going on,” my dad says.

It’s a line.

An automation.

“You expect me to believe that?” Anger rumbles inside me. “I can tell when you two aren’t doing well, and usually it’s a blip. But something’s wrong.”

My dad winces, his face contorting. Until he forces out another dry smile. “You don’t need to worry about us, bud.”

“It’s too late for that.”

My mom rubs at her glassy eyes. “Maybe we should just tell him, Lo.”

Pain tries to puncture my lungs, my heart, every organ inside my body. But I just stand straighter. Rigid. Features on total lock-down. Ready to bear everything and anything for them. I’ll do it a million times over.

He’s staring right at me. Not even answering my mom. “You want to know what’s going on?”

“Yes.” I’m practically pleading. “Maybe there’s something I can do to hel—”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you to know.” He cuts me off, eyes flashing hot. “Because there’s nothing you can do. Do you understand?”

I grind down on my teeth and dagger a glare into the ceiling.

“Look at me.” His voice is the sharpest blade, but the only thing that’s ever really frightened me about him is the demon he locks away.

Alcoholism, addiction—it could kill my dad. Like it killed my grandfather.

I drop my gaze. Looking right at him.

His chest rises and falls heavily. Hand on his heart, he tells me, “There are going to be some things in life that you’re not going to be able to change. Or fix. And I don’t care if you don’t like it, but you’ll have to live with it.”

My pulse jackhammers in my temple. He knows I’m ready to beat against a metal wall until my fists are bloodied. I can’t give up that easily. On any person I love.

“Just tell me, Dad.”

My mom springs off the chair and zips to the door.

“Lily.” My dad is wide-eyed in concern.

“I’m just locking it.” She turns the lock, then shuffles back to him. My dad catches her sleeve and tugs her into his chest. Their arms tangle up together.

That one move eases me a bit. They’re good.

They’re good.

I convince myself—they’re good.

“Is it about Luna?” I wonder. “The sex addict headlines after she was at that club?”

My dad layers on a patented glare. “Those sick fucks can rot in the center circle of hell.”

“We expected it.” My mom nods resolutely. “It’s nothing we weren’t prepared for.”

Right…

So whatever’s getting to them…they weren’t prepared for it. “Why can’t you just tell me?” I point to my chest. “You usually don’t keep shit from me. I don’t understand why this is different.”

“Because you’re going to want to fix it,” my dad says. “And you still haven’t told me you won’t.”

“I won’t.” It’s my automation.

My line.

He stares at me like he knows, but he still speaks anyway. “It’s your grandmother. She’s been throwing a gigantic goddamn fit over not being invited to the wedding. Even before you mailed out the invitations.”

“But we’re dealing with her,” my mom adds quickly.

This…

I didn’t expect.

My muscles solidify. Rusted shut. “That’s it?” I lick my dry lips. “It’s only Grandmother Calloway?” I know she’s the root to a lot of issues in my family. But I hate that this old crotchety woman still has the power to cause such a fucking impact.

My mom nods strongly. “Just her.”

“What is she doing to you?” I ask, eyes flaming. Protective. Wishing I could just slam a door closed and lock her away from my mom forever.

“It’s…” She stares sadly at her hands. “It’s complicated. Words have been passed around, and they’re not-so-kind—but we’re dealing with it. Right, Lo?”

My dad is glaring murderously at the door. He mutters under his breath, “Can she fucking die already.”

“Jesus Christ,” I breathe.

He flashes me a smile. “Kidding.”

“No you weren’t,” I tell him.