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She’s right. I know she is. “What am I supposed to do then? Push him away? Get Westscott in trouble and then Rhett will be mad I didn’t come to him in the first place? I can’t win in either scenario.”
Iris appears genuinely stumped and I know it’s because what I’m saying is true. I don’t know how to win at this, not that win is the right word. This isn’t a game, it’s my life. It’s Rhett’s life too.
“You need to tell your parents what happened with Westscott,” she finally says, her voice eerily serious. As serious as I’ve ever heard her. “They won’t stand for it. What he did, and how he spoke to you, isn’t appropriate.”
She’s right on that point. “Do you think he’ll get fired?”
“Maybe.” Iris shrugs. “He deserves to be.”
Does he really though? He’s a man in a panic, dealing with a teenaged girl whose family owns the entire school. He took a risk by threatening me, and it actually worked.
“I don’t know how to tell them,” I say, shaking my head. Now I’m the one pacing around the room.
“You pick up the phone and tell them everything, just like you told me. Or you FaceTime them.” We both grimace. “Yeah, call them. It’s easier if you don’t have to look them in the eyes.”
I check the time on my phone, looking for any excuse. “It’s late though. I’ll call them in the morning.”
“It’s barely eight o’clock. You know they’re still up.” Iris waves a hand at the phone I’m clutching. “Call them. I’ll stay if you want me to. Or I can go. It’s up to you.”
“I hate that you came over here for advice and I made it all about me instead,” I admit, feeling awful.
“Oh please. You didn’t make it all about you. You have a legitimate problem and I just want to help you fix it. Besides, I didn’t need advice. I just needed to tell someone that I’m in love with Brooks.”
Her face, her entire being, appears to go soft with the admission. Like she’s turned into a big flufly white angel cloud now that she’s in love.
“You really do love him, huh?”
She nods, her eyes wide and shining bright. “It’s terrible. He’s all I think about.”
“It actually sounds wonderful.” I think of Rhett. If I’ll ever have the chance to fall completely in love with him. I’m already on my way there. But have I ruined everything?
“It is wonderful,” Iris admits, glancing down at the floor for a moment before returning her gaze to mine. “Don’t sit on this any longer, Willow. Tell your parents. And then go to Rhett tomorrow and tell him everything. You’ll feel better telling the truth.”
I know she’s right and I nod my agreement, even though I’m still reluctant. And scared.
So scared.
***
“Darling, why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Mom sounds incredulous and I can hear Dad’s deep yet ragged breathing. Like he’s trying to get his emotions under control. “How dare that man speak to you in such a manner!”
“I understand why he did it though.” I don’t know why I’m defending Westscott—what’s wrong with me?
“Do you? He has no business talking to my daughter like that.” My father’s voice is tight. I can feel his anger through the phone.
My parents are on speaker, taking my call together like I asked them to. And while it was terrifying to tell them everything, I also do feel better now that the truth is out.
“You’re right. He shouldn’t talk to any student like that, whether they’re a Lancaster or not,” I say.
“But you are a Lancaster. The school belongs to us. All of us. Our parents—your grandparents—have mostly retired, leaving the decision-making to us. Your uncle Grant is on the board of trustees. Once he hears about this, there will be hell to pay,” Dad explains.
I close my eyes, dreading the idea of Uncle Grant hearing this news. He’s extraordinarily grumpy, much like Whit, and he sees things as either black or white. No gray in between.
“Does it have to get to that point though?” Mom asks Dad.
“Of course.” His voice is gruff. “What else is supposed to happen?”
“Perhaps you can talk to him and set him straight. You have such a persuasive way with words. Better than Grant or Whit,” Mom tells him.
