In Your Dreams (In Your Dreams #1)

Chapter 8

Kieran's father appears to be in his early fifties, streaks of gray in the reddish-brown hair over his temples and ears and lines marking the skin at the corner of his eyes and across his forehead. Other than the hair and a few wrinkles, the bifocals pushed up on the top of his head and a slight double chin are the only real signs of age. Even covered up with a heavy knit cardigan over a black t-shirt, he strikes me as being in pretty good shape-Kayla must have inherited her athletic build from him. I steal a glance at Kieran, whose lanky frame makes him seem like a deflated balloon next to his father.

"Dad," Kieran says, voice flat. The two engage in a three-second stare down before Kieran remembers his manners. "Sorry...this is Zip McKee."

Mr. Lanier offers me his hand. "Nice to meet you, Zip. I've heard a lot about you."

I brush off my curiosity at what "I've heard a lot about you" might mean, given that one of his kids has become my best friend while the other one acts like she wants to run me down with her car.

"Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Lanier," I respond, and instantly panic that I've called him the wrong thing. "Dr. Lanier?" I try, which prompts a friendly smile.

"Call me Jim. And thank you for bringing Kieran home."

Kieran opens his mouth, but I cut him off. "I'm sorry we're so late. Totally my fault. We were talking and I lost track of time-"

"And I told her I didn't want to come home," Kieran interrupts, the continued flatness to his voice starting to creep me out a little. My back rises at the tension building in the hallway, and now I kind of wish I hadn't offered to come in with him.

"You told your mother when you called you'd be home as soon as possible after the game," Jim reminds him, and I'm about to apologize again when Kieran pipes up with "And in case you didn't understand me, I told Zip I didn't want to come home. Kayla and I are the only kids in this town who aren't allowed out on school nights."

I bite my lower lip. Kieran's exaggerating a little-I'm guessing more than a few people don't get to go out at night during the week. At the same time, it's not like there's a whole lot of trouble to get into in Titusville, unless you happen to be hanging out at someone's house whose parents run a meth lab in the basement. Rumor has it, only about three families with kids at Titusville Junior/Senior High fall into the meth-making category, most of the cookers around here being too young to have children in junior high or high school.

"I just want to be like everybody else for once," Kieran continues.

"You're not like everybody else."

"So you've mentioned. Repeatedly," Kieran snaps.

Jim Lanier lets out a sigh. "At any rate, you should probably go upstairs and start your homework so you can get to bed at your regular time."

The two males engage in another stare down before Jim jerks his head toward the staircase. Kieran gives him an "Okay-whatever" eye roll before picking up his backpack. "See you tomorrow," he whispers to me. "And, thanks."

I nod, voice stuck in my throat, as Kieran slings his backpack over his shoulder and heads for the stairs.

"You're grounded, by the way," Jim Lanier calls after him, which prompts Kieran to belt out a curt laugh.

"My whole life is grounded," he spits as he jogs upstairs, nearly crashing into a woman heading in the opposite direction.

"Kieran-" she starts.

"Goodnight, Mom," he mumbles, barely pausing. He turns on the landing and disappears up the second flight of stairs, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor above. The woman closes her eyes briefly and opens them again, the smile that follows directed at me.