1.12 Up the River

I'm so excited. Dad has finally reached out to me. Maybe he is right. The police might have intercepted some of my letters to him. I should have sent all my letters to him through Black Dawn. They will know how to get it to him in one piece. I know they're also the only ones my Dad trusts in getting his letters out, such as the one he recently sent to me.

I stretch my arms up overhead, trying to soothe the tension in my shoulders. I am holed up in my room, trying to prepare for an English quiz that I do not even care about. But I need to get into my Mom's good graces. I need her permission to visit him. As if summoned by my thoughts, I hear Mom's characteristic knock on my door.

"Come in," I call out. I know from the tired look on her face that she just got off the phone with Dad. She always ends up this way whenever she has to interact with him. It's been years since their divorce, but they still can't deal with each other.

"Did you talk to him? Can I see him now?" I ask Mom as she enters. "Come on. It's Saturday."

"Don't you have a quiz you're studying for?" Mom inquires, glancing at the mess on my desk.

"I'm already halfway done. I'll finish the rest of the coverage when I get home." I promise her. "Mama, please?"

I know she's not stupid. I only act sweetly towards her when I need something, and seeing my Dad tops that list. She doesn't dare comment on it, though. She knows how I feel about her since she divorced my Dad. As I got older, I began to understand why she did it. But that doesn't mean I still don't resent her for it.

"I'm not sure that it's a good idea for you to see your Dad now, dear. Maybe we should wait a bit--" she says. I don't believe it. Does she want me to hate her more?

"Wait for what?" I interrupt, my voice rising. "He's my Dad, you know. It's not as easy for me to cut ties with him as you did. And I have no intention of doing so. I told you this right from the start."

Mom closes her eyes in frustration. "Okay, okay." she finally relents. "On one condition."

"Name it," I tell her, ready to accept whatever demands she might have.

"Bring your boyfriend with you. I'll feel more at ease if you have someone there that you can trust." Mom says.

It takes me a while to process her words. I don't have a boyfriend. But then I remember the lie that David told Mom and Arnold days ago. I squeeze my eyes shut, cursing him in my head as I feverishly wrack my head for an excuse. But none came. I can't tell her the truth now, too. She would be so pissed she might not let me go.

"Fine." I reluctantly say. "I'll call him then." Maybe I can arrange an agreement for him to stay outside when I visit Dad. Hastily, I begin to start gathering my things, hunting for my phone.

"Arnold has already called him. He's on his way here now." Mom suddenly states, and I stop in my tracks.

Wait, what? "Oh...okay." I try to calm my breath. "But he's staying outside when I talk to Dad, right?"

"I think he would have to. Your Dad's in tight surveillance," Mom responds. I sigh in relief. But then she zeroes in on my expression. "Why? Would it be such a bad thing if Dave met your Dad?"

I avoid her eyes. No. I can't let her know about that. "Of course not. I just don't think it'd be good for David, you know. It must have been a shock. I mean, he had to hear about Dad from Arnold."

Thankfully, Mom looks like she believes my hasty lie. "Oh, darling. I'm sure he doesn't mind. He likes you, right? This shouldn't change anything."

I want to tell Mom that one of them working for a criminal organization changed everything for her and Dad, but I keep my mouth shut. It doesn't matter. It's not like there's anything between David and me. I am not his problem. As soon as this is over, I'm telling Mom and Arnold that David and I are not together.

___________________________

"You didn't tell me your Dad is in prison." It's the first thing David has directly told me ever since he arrived to pick me up. Looking at the hesitant expression he had when greeting Mom and Arnold, I know that particular news makes him uneasy. He's Mr. Running for Saint, after all. I think about what to say to him, but I can't come up with anything. I don't feel obligated to tell him anything about my family. I feel bad for involving him, though, even when he's the one who brought this on himself.

"Hello. Earth to Dina." David says, waving his fingers in front of my face to get my attention.

I grab them in exasperation, thrusting his hand back to him. I don't like it when people do that to me. My nerves are shot up from the thought of meeting my Dad, too. So I'm extra crabby today. But instead of letting go, David holds onto my hand, lightly caressing the long, raised scar on my right index finger. I open my mouth to call him out on that buy my body shivers in response instead. I feel my cheeks heat up at my gut reaction, and I'm grateful that his eyes remained on the road, or I probably would not hear the end of it.

"What happened to this?" he asks me, his brows furrowing in concern.

I remind myself that I hate it when he does this. He always acts like everyone around him are helpless people just waiting to be rescued. I am not one to be rescued. But at the same time, and I would never have admitted this under normal circumstances, his gentleness disorients me. Ever since that day when we were handcuffed together, his hand bumping into mine in the most unexpected times, there's been a pull. And then later that day, when he said he believed me when I said I didn't steal his wallet. No one's ever taken my word about anything before.

"Earth again to Dina. What is this? Could it be that you're enjoying my hand just a bit too much?" David's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I quickly let go of his hand. I scoff at him. Never mind all that. I just remembered how infuriating this guy is.

"Shut up," I tell him, but my voice is weak. He shrugs, the corners of his mouth turning up. "You know, you didn't have to come."

"Of course I do. I'm supposed to be your boyfriend, remember?" he taunts. "Plus, Arnold called in the favor. I couldn't let him down. Like Cal, I also want to see his Camaro, maybe even drive it."

"He doesn't have a Camaro," I growl at him. I don't need him getting closer to Arnold and my Mom. It's going to be harder to convince them that we're not together.

"What? But you said he had one when Cal asked you." David screws up his face in confusion.

"No. I said he doesn't have one." I repeat, my annoyance going up a notch.

"No. You said he has one." David insists.

"I didn't."

"Did too."

"Didn't."

"Did too."

"Did too--Ugh, what are you, a kid?" I yell at him. "Your friends said you don't talk much. Why can't you do that right now? Huh? Just...please stop talking." I really don't need this from him on such an important day.

"But my friends also said that I'm chatty when you're around," David answers, unfazed at my outburst.

"Well, then stop doing that. Why am I the only one that has to suffer?!"

"Beats me." He shrugs, lips pressed together. "Maybe it's because it's always nice talking to you?"

I scoff at the teasing glint in his eyes. I think he would push my buttons further, but he gives me the silence I need. I'm grateful for that, at least. I really don't want him asking questions about Dad. It would complicate things.