Page 56 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

I shrug. “My friends.”

He pretends to think about it. “And your old man?”

I laugh, “Of course.”

He smiles as he continues looking around, his attention lands on the romper, the boots, and then me.

The room suddenly feels quieter, like maybe we’re thinking the same thing. Senior year. One year left. One year before everything changes… again.

Without a word, he reaches into his pocket.

Something flashes through the air.

I barely catch it. Truck keys. Dad's truck keys. I stare at them, then at him, then back at them.

“Dad.” I shake my head.

“You've had your permit for —”

“No.”

His mouth twitches. “No?”

“Nope.”

“You haven't even asked what I’m thinking.”

“I know what you’re thinking.” I narrow my eyes.

“You don't.”

“I do.”

He points at the keys. “You're gonna tell me Alex drives.” I was. “Then you're gonna tell me you don't need a license.” Also, true. “And then you'll tell me maybe next year.”

I open my mouth and close it because, unfortunately, he's exactly right.

Dad folds his arms. “You're a senior, Jade.” His voice softens. “A year from now you'll be filling out applications, making plans, going places.”

I look down at the keys in my hand.

“You can't keep riding shotgun forever, kiddo.” Dad jerks his head toward the hallway.

“Let's go.”

I blink. “Now?”

“Now.”

“I just got home.”

“So did I.”

“Dad.”

“Beautiful day.” He calls from the hallway.

I laugh.