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"So... anything new going on?" Tom asked, brushing the crumbs off his fingers onto the plate. Janae's eyes wavered around the restaurant timidly. She had yet to admit she was dating—or that she had a boyfriend of three months.
Things were awkward; she knew her father wouldn't approve of any boy... especially Julian. He smoked, (something other than cigarettes) drank, and wore attire fit for a hobo disguised as a punk. His long tresses were also a no-go, by Tom's standard. You didn't have to look at Julian twice to perceive him as a rebel—something that would definitely piss off daddy.
"Same, I guess." She shrugged before looking down at her plate, twirling her fork in the Alfredo pasta.
"Anything new with school?" He pried again.
Janae shook her head, but felt her blood pressure rise at the question. The truth was, she had stopped going; it had been nearly two months since she'd gone to class. She took a job as a waitress near The Lemon where Julian worked. Surprisingly, she made quite a bit of money—though, mostly in tips.
"Janelle Chrisoline, I'm gonna ask you this one more time and I expect the truth." Tom scolded low—his eyes wide, lips barely present. "What's going on at school?"
Janae released an exasperated sigh, letting her fork fall in the plate. The sound of the silverware clinking against the porcelain caused a few wavering stares.
"Dad, please—not here." She pleaded, cupping her hands around her face like looking into a window—the window into her father's angry eyes.
It was humiliating to be called out like this—in public. Janae knew that once she told the truth, his anger would be evident. He'd become a spectacle in a room full of spectators, fuming that his daughter was a dropout.
"The deal was that you could move to the city with Tiffany if you kept up your grades—you're not even in school." Tom's voice raised, causing the pair at the next table to gesture for their check.
"How did you know—Tiffany tell you?"
"I got a letter. You seem to forget your mail still comes to me."
"Great detective work, chief." Janae muttered under her breath before taking a drink of coke. She had never been confronted with such things before; she was the good girl—the girl that kept up her grades and stayed in school... and stayed away from boys.
"Don't get passive aggressive with me little girl, I'm still paying for your portion of the rent and utilities at that place, so I'd choose my words carefully, if I were you."
Janae found herself laughing, but out of frustration and anxiety. "I'm eighteen now, I'm legally an adult. I don't need you to pay for my things anymore, you can't threaten me with that. What are you gonna do, plant drugs in my apartment? File a complaint? Manhattan isn't your jurisdiction anymore-"
