“I don’t know how,” I whispered.
“You push through, kid,” he said. “You let your old man take you out to shoot at a tree stump for an hour. You start running, or break some plates, or take a baseball bat to an old car, or fuckin’ talk about it. Whatever works for you.”
“Do we have an old car?” I asked.
“Hell, I’ll get you one—that’s what you want to do. Not the point, though.” He tugged on one of my braids. “You gotta stop takin’ that anger out on the people who love ya, Lil. Ya gotta stop, honey. The only solid thing we got in this life is family, you don’t ever want to push them away.”
“I’m trying,” I ground out, swiping at the tears on my cheeks. “Maybe I’m depressed.”
“Maybe,” my dad said. “That’s the case, maybe you should be talkin’ to that doctor you used to see.”
“I hated therapy.”
“Could help, though.”
“I doubt it. This sucks.”
“It does.” He got to his feet and reached for me, pulling me up to stand beside him. “I’ve been waitin’ for you to flip out for years, kid. You took everything too easy, let everything slide for too goddamn long. I know part of that was just you. You’re not the type to wallow—never have been. But it’s just been building, waiting for a time you felt comfortable to lose it.”
“I don’t want to feel like this.”
“I know.”
We made our way back to the clubhouse and changed out of our soaking wet clothes.
“Lil?” Dad called from outside the bathroom. “I gotta take care of some shit before we head home, you cool to hang out for a bit?”
I stared at myself in the mirror and tried to re-braid my tangled hair. My face was a mess from crying and I looked like a drowned rat.
“Sure,” I replied. It wasn’t as if I had anywhere to be. If I was home, I’d probably just be sitting in my room doing nothing.
A few minutes later, I left my dad’s room and walked out to the main area of the club. There was usually someone out there to talk to, and I knew I should probably start mending fences where I could. People had started steering clear over a month before, and I grimaced as I realized that everyone had noticed that I was being an asshole.
No one had said anything, but everyone had seen it.
“Hey, there,” Poet said as I grabbed a soda from behind the bar.
“Hey, Poet.” I smiled easily for the first time in a long time. “Do you ever leave that bar stool?”
Poet chuckled. “Not if I can help it,” he replied. “Everyone comes in here at some point and I can get a good visit in without getting off my arse.”
“Smart,” I said, sitting down beside him.
“How you doin’?”
“I’ve been better,” I told him with a rueful smile. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’ve got a pretty girl sittin’ next to me.”
“Flatterer.”
“Always.” He smiled, making his beard twitch. “You and your pop get things figured out?”
“He made me shoot at a tree stump for an hour.”
“Felt good, huh?”
“Yeah.” I sighed and leaned on the bar top. “It did.”
“Lots of changes, yeah?” he said, nodding a little. “You’ll find your footing. Just takes a bit.”
“I’ve been kind of an asshole,” I confessed.
“We’ve all been there,” he said with a guffaw. “You ain’t done nothin’ but be in a pissy mood, girl. Come to me when you’ve actually done somethin’ worth bein’ sorry about.”
As he finished speaking, Leo came in the front door, sliding the hood of his sweatshirt back and shaking the rain from his shoulders.
“It might happen sooner than you think,” I mumbled, the anger inside me rising up again as I met Leo’s gaze.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Poet said with a soft pat on my shoulder. He got up from his stool and ambled away, disappearing into the back hallway.
“Hey, Dandelion,” Leo said as he walked toward me. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
“On purpose,” I replied, turning away from him.
“Come on,” he said in frustration. “Still?”
He sidled up to the bar next to me, and leaned down so he could see my face.
“You still banging that blonde chick?” I asked, staring straight ahead. When he didn’t answer, I scoffed.
“I’m fuckin’ sick of this,” he snapped, turning my barstool until I had no choice but to look at him. “Grow the fuck up, Lily.”
I jerked back in surprise at his tone, but as soon as his words sunk in, anger like I’d never known hit me so hard that it took my breath away. My hands were shaking as I shoved at his chest, forcing him back a step as I slipped off the stool. It felt so good to shove him that I did it again.
“Fuck you, Leo,” I said quietly through my teeth. “I am grown up. You walk around like you have it so bad because you have a scar on your face. Poor Leo, his pretty face isn’t perfect anymore.”