Going 78 Miles Per Hour | ✓

11 | False Alarm

"It just feels like you aren't."

That made me cry.

I look back up to him with tears in my eyes, blinking as the tears fall down my cheeks. I use my free hand to wipe my tears away, meeting my father's gaze with blurry vision.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, clutching both hands around the plastic box to stop myself from clenching. "I'm so sorry, dad."

I villainized him to Harlow, to his family.

I told them my side of the story, but I didn't tell his.

"It's okay," he mumbles, closing the gap from me. "I'm not mad at you."

"I'm so sorry," I repeat, tears building up in my eyes and I can't stop myself. My father is about a couple of inches from me, his eyes swept with concern over my crying. I just can't stop.

"Dahlia," he declares softly, raising his hand as he cups my cheek. He wipes my tears with the back of his thumb. "Don't cry. Strong girls don't cry. It's okay. It's okay, sweetheart."

I choke, heaving in a heavy breath as I try to calm my accelerating emotions. I nod, just as my father leans in and pecks a small kiss on my forehead. It was warm, inviting, and sweet.

"I love you, okay?" He declares, his voice boasting with honesty. "I will always love you."

I nod, appreciating the words deeper than he knows. I'm still crying, my whimpering coming off softer, and I'm trying so hard to stop myself from bawling. I'm a strong girl. I don't cry.

My father pulls back, dropping his hand by his side as the warmth of his hold grows cold. He gives me a soft smile. "Your mother is making breakfast downstairs. Come down, okay? Join us."

I couldn't find myself putting together coherent words, and instead, I nod my head. To give him the all-clear, the nonverbal yes.

He takes it.

And he leaves.

━━━━━

LUNES
8:03 AM

Dahlia Gray

"How was your weekend, Dahlia?" Josie asks, her green eyes meeting mine with a smile. Juliana "Josie" Hartfield is the epitome of a modern-day princess. Not the one that carries herself through sheer force and arrogant will—but she's sweet. She's charming, has a sociable personality, and she's popular.

No one hates her. No one dislikes her. She has everything going for her.

"It was, um, it was good," I reply with a small smile, drowning out the thoughts that occupied my head. I tuck a hair behind my ear, after seeing the black strand covering my vision. "How was yours?"

"It was really good," Josie declares with a genuine smile, running a hand through her shoulder-length blonde hair. I notice that it's always maintained, and never a hair out of place. "My dad hosted a family BBQ, and I invited Hannah along. We had a good time."

My lips falter at the mention of them hanging out without me. I mean, I'm used to it and I've already accepted that they're closer in their relationship than I am with either of them—but it doesn't sting any less.

"Oh," I say, trying to not let disappointment seep through my words. "What did you guys do?"

"Well," Josie muses, just as Hannah returns from the bathroom, wiping the palms of her hands against her jeans. "Our dads were prepping the grill downstairs and our moms were inside making the side dishes. Hannah and me went upstairs and we watched a movie, learned a new Tik Tok dance and then we headed downstairs to eat."