The Dirty Ones

“You can’t go either. I need to stay with a buddy.”

She looks at me like I’m the one making Bennett go to the party. “He doesn’t have to go.”

“Tell Hayes that,” she snaps. “He’s insisting that we all be there.”

“Knock, knock.”

For fuck’s sake. My father chooses this moment to show up at my office?

“Camille. Bennett. Will you excuse us for a minute?”

Camille rudely turns her back on my father just as Bennett mumbles out, “Yeah, I’m done here. We gotta get going.”

He grabs Camille’s hand, leading her towards the door, but my father doesn’t move. He’s a big guy. Taller than me even and I’m over six foot. So he literally blocks their exit.

“Everything OK, Camille?” my father asks.

She refuses to look at him. Just keeps her head down and says, “Can we go?”

But my father doesn’t move. “Dad, get out of the way.”

He shoots me a stern look, then backs off. Camille slips by, dragging Bennett behind her by the hand.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask my father.

He steps into my office and closes the door. “I’m gonna assume you saw the paperwork? Go ahead and sign it so we can make everything official tomorrow morning and make the announcement Saturday night.”

“Yeah, we need to talk,” I say. “I’m not running.”

“Like hell, you’re not. Now sign the statement of candidacy and let’s get this going.”

“Dad, I’m not running.”

“You are running, Connor. This is what you’ve been planning—”

“No, this is what you’ve been planning. I don’t even want to be in politics.”

“No one wants to be in politics, son. It’s just something that needs to be done.”

“Look,” I say, sighing deeply and running my fingers through my hair. “I’ve made my decision. I’m not—”

But my phone dings a text in my pocket, cutting me off. I stare at my father for a few seconds. We say nothing. Then another text comes in. I break the standoff and pull my phone out, reading the messages.

Hayes: Don’t confront your father today. We are going to Louise’s house for that party this weekend.

Hayes: Just trust me.

Just trust him.

“You’re running for Senate,” my father says. “So sign the paper and let me handle everything else. Just go home and have a drink.”

I feel like I’m living someone else’s life right now. Or I’m in some kind of alternate reality. Everything is a little bit off. This is my father, but I feel like I don’t know him. This is my office, but I feel like I have no purpose here.

“Connor,” my father snaps. “Everything has been filled out for you. Just sign the fucking paper.”

My phone dings again.

Hayes: Are you getting these messages? Don’t tell your father you’re not running yet. I’m on my way over to your office now. Just tell him what he wants to hear and meet me downstairs in five minutes.

I pick up a pen, open the folder, glance down at the papers. Just two sheets. So simple to run for Senate. Just one signature.

I sign, close the folder, and hold it out for my father. “Here. Done.”

He forces a smile as he walks forward and takes the folder from my outstretched hand. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just not sure this is what I want to do.”

“Well, that’s not nothing. That’s a complete one-eighty to what we’ve been planning and discussing for the last five years.”

I want to say so much here. Things like, I haven’t been planning anything. You’re the one who made all the plans. I just went along.

But I don’t have the energy. And besides, it feels like a losing battle. A battle I’m not prepared to fight.

“The party on Saturday is important, Connor.”

“I realize this,” I say.

“Your speechwriters are hard at work and we’ll have that for you in the morning. I don’t know what’s going on with you and your… friends. But it needs to stop.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know where you’ve been. Bennett told me you were up in Vermont visiting… that woman?”

“You mean Kiera?”

“Don’t get involved with her again. You know how hard I worked to extract you from that whole mess back in school. She was the reason that whole year happened.”

I think about that for a moment. Because it’s so obviously not true. I mean… I can’t put my finger on why everything happened the way it did in senior year, and my father certainly doesn’t know the whole truth because I never said a word to him, but it definitely wasn’t Kiera’s fault.

“Sure, Dad,” I say. “Whatever.”

He stares at me for a moment. It’s a stern, don’t-fuck-with-me stare that I haven’t seen him wear for a long time. I actually lean back in my chair, a little off balance. Then his face softens, like he’s making a conscious effort, and he says, “Good. We’re on our way now, Con. In three years you’ll be on your way to DC and that’s when your life really starts.”