Page 87 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)
Evan grunts his acknowledgement. He can’t really talk, though. Besides sympathizing secondhand with Wren, and me when Dad became hyper-fixated on a case and spent all his days and nights at his office or taking work home with him, he can’t really relate.
His parents arewonderful.
“What are you going to do?”
I glance at Evan.
What amIgoing to do, not we.
“I guess I need to confront him…somehow. Without triggering his auto-response. Or raising his suspicions.” I pause. “Do you think he knew who the drugs belonged to when he got me out of being arrested on that drug possession charge in high school?”
He ponders that. Then, “Well, you knew right away. And it wouldn’t be a stretch for your dad to know the Davises. We made it no secret that Wren stayed with us, and you were over at my house all the time.”
“Yeah…” Except my father and I didn’t really talk about that kind of thing. I had my truck, he had work, and at the time, I was doing everything in my power to avoid the house. I hated living there. I hated Martha.
As long as I was staying out of trouble and keeping my grades up, Dad only vaguely knew that I was often at Evan Mitchell’s house. Another hockey player whose face would be somewhat familiar. He’d be able to pick out my best friend in a lineup if we put him at gunpoint.
Maybe.
I clear my throat. “I just need to talk to him in person. Appeal to his…”
“What does he care about?”
Isn’t that a great question? I suck my lower lip between my teeth and consider it.
“His image.” I hold up my index finger. “Being the world’s best defense attorney has always been high on his list of achievements.”
“Naturally,” Evan agrees.
“Um, the step-monster. He loves her, which is rather unfortunate.” I wrinkle my nose.
“You can’t call her that.” Evan groans. “You’re going to say it to her face one of these days.”
I smile. “Pretty sure I accidentally did on the phone one time. I played it off…I think.”
“Ass.”
“Third, as much as I hate to admit it, he does care about me.”
“You could’ve just said family,” Evan mutters. “That’s it, then? His image, which is essentially work, and family? The two most basic thingsever?”
I raise my hands. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, okay. So we appeal to both.” He considers me, his eyes narrowing.
“What?”
“There’s something you’re probably forgetting. An opportunity…”
What the fuck. I grab my phone and click on the unread messages from Martha, which have come in over the past two months. Reminders of his birthday party. Asking me to RSVP. Telling me it’s okay if I bring a friend. I can stay the night in my old room. On and on…
“Shit.” I drop the phone. “His birthday is next week.”
Evan straightens. “You seriously are the worst son ever. When’s the party?”
“How do you know there’s a party?”
He rolls his eyes. “When does Marthanotgo all out for your dad?”