3:30pm

21: explanations, explanations

I rolled my eyes. "Quit being dramatic, Brent."

"Don't call me—"

"I chose this time because it's the only time Mrs Wiles leaves the homeroom to see her husband, Mr Wiles."

"Mr Wiles?" Mikayla's eyebrow rose up.

"Chemistry teacher," Brent told her.

Mikayla was in the arts, like me, so I wasn't surprised she didn't know Mr Wiles. Hell, I wouldn't have if I hadn't met him in homeroom earlier this term.

"Well," Brent said, sauntering over to a desk and perching on top of it, his arms crossed, eyes trained on me. "What did you want to explain to us, Cleo?"

My gaze darted to Mikayla. She'd gone back to her seat, staring at me with expectant eyes.

This was it. I was doing it. No going back now. Yep, too late.

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I started. "It'd seem weird if I went MIA for two . . . three days, and all of a sudden, I show up and tell you I just came back from attending my grandma's burial, which wouldn't be true 'cause my grandma died years ago. Crap, I'm going off."

I paused. Recollected my thoughts for a second before starting over.

"What I'm trying to say is, I have a reason for my sudden absence. A real reason. Also, there's something I've been hiding. Keeping from you both."

I moved my gaze to Mikayla. "Mostly you, Kayla."

"Me?" Her right eyebrow rose up.

I nodded. "Yeah. Two years ago, my mom left us, her family, for two reasons. One, she'd found another man, and two, she couldn't stand my father anymore . . ."

I told them of how slowly but surely, my father changed from the relatively bearable father Dante and I were familiar with to a completely different personality. Told them of how he'd started drinking heavily. Of the first night he beat us up, Dante and I, with his belt, and how he was probably the cause of Dante's last convulsion that led to his untimely death. Told them of the last encounter with my father before he died, how Stephen had helped me out, and how I'd been staying at his place ever since.

When I was through, the silence that ensued lasted for nearly a minute.

"Jesus," Brent said finally, uncrossing his arms and getting off the desk. "This is sick. He's the one that did that to you?

He nodded toward my face, at my right eye.

"Yeah," I replied.

"You could've said something to me, Cleo. You didn't have to carry all that on your own," Mikayla said, standing up, her expression a blend of hurt, surprise and empathy.

Quickly, I walked over to stand in front of her. "Believe me, I know. Regardless of my reasons, I should've—"

She cut me off then, literally knocking the breath out of me, with—for the second time today—a hug.

Brent crossed over to Mikayla and I, stopping about a foot from us. "You went through all that. On your own. And still, somehow, you managed to look okay. I respect you. And I'm sorry that your dad turned out to be a stale piece of shit."

"Yeah," Mikayla said, letting go of me. "Honestly, this might sound cruel, but I'm glad he's dead now."

I smiled at them both. "Thanks guys, for not taking my keeping it a secret the wrong way."

"We got you," Mikayla patted my shoulder lightly.

"There's one more thing." I looked at Brent. "And it's about the deal."