Miller mutters, “Yes we did,” from behind her.

I look at Miller. “You can go now. Tell Clara good night.”

Clara looks at Miller. “Don’t leave yet. I’m coming with you.”

Miller looks from me to Clara, like he’s torn. I’d feel bad for him if I wasn’t so angry at him.

“Miller, it’s probably best if you just go,” Jonah says.

Clara rolls her head, stopping it when her eyes land on Jonah. “If he’s leaving, you should go too. You don’t live here.”

Jonah seems over her attitude just as much as I am. “Clara, stop.”

“Don’t tell me to stop. You aren’t my dad.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

I’m standing now. This is going way too far.

Miller turns and heads for the door, as if he senses the bomb is about to explode, and he doesn’t want to be injured by the shrapnel.

Clara backs her way to the front door. “It’s my birthday. I’m protesting my punishment on the grounds that it was your example that forced me to break the rules last night.” She opens the door. “I’ll be home by curfew.”

I start to walk around the table in a rush to the door, but Jonah grabs my wrist. “Let her go.”

I look down at his hand clamped around my wrist. “You can’t be serious.”

Jonah stands up, forcing my eyes upward because he looms over me. “You need to tell her the truth, Morgan.”

“No.”

“You’re losing control of her. She hates you. She blames you for everything.”

“She’s sixteen. She’ll get over it.”

“She’s seventeen. And what if she doesn’t?”

I can’t have this conversation with him right now. “She’s right. You should go too.”

Jonah doesn’t protest. He grabs Elijah’s things, and they leave. Jonah doesn’t even say goodbye.

I stare back at the kitchen table—at all the uneaten food and the near-perfect cake.

I slump into a chair, grab a fork, and take a bite of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CLARA

I’m leaning against Miller’s truck with him when Jonah comes outside with Elijah. I turn and stare toward the road so I don’t have to look at him.

As evidenced in class today, I get a lot angrier when we make eye contact. And even though he was nice enough not to punish me, and then later gave me his phone, I realize he did both of those things out of guilt because he knows what he’s done. And now he’s here, having family dinner with us like my father never even existed.

I hear him as he’s buckling Elijah into place in the back seat of his car. Then I hear the door close. I blow out a quiet breath, relieved he’s leaving, but then suck in another rush of air when I realize he didn’t open his car door. I glance toward the front of Miller’s truck to see Jonah making his way over to us. My posture grows rigid when he stops two feet in front of me.

He places both his hands firmly on my shoulders and then leans forward and kisses me on top of my head. “You’re better than this, Clara. We all are.” He backs away. “Happy birthday.”

When Jonah finally pulls out of the driveway, I roll my eyes and push off Miller’s truck. I lean against his chest, just wanting to feel the soothing sound of his heartbeat against my cheek. He presses his chin against the top of my head as he wraps his arms around me. “Is this how it always is?” he asks.

“Lately, yes.”

Miller’s chest rises and then falls, just once. Heavily. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

I pull back and look up. “You don’t have to come over anymore. I wouldn’t even blame you.”

Miller is looking at me regretfully. “I don’t mean dinner with your family.”

I stare at him a moment—long enough to make out irritation in his expression. I take a step back. His arms fall to his sides. “It’s my birthday.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re breaking up with me on my birthday?”

He drags a hand down his face. “No. I’m just . . .” He can’t even finish whatever it is he’s about to say. Probably because he knows what a jerk he’s being right now.

I take another step back. “You slept with me last night, and now you’re dumping me? Really?” I spin around and head back to my house. “Guess I was wrong about you too.”

I can hear him sprinting after me. He intercepts me before I make it to the front patio. He grips my face with both hands, but it isn’t a gentle grip. It’s not a rough one, either, but based on the anger in his expression, it’s not a touch I really want right now.

“You don’t get to throw that in my face, Clara. I was the one who was taken advantage of last night. Not you.” With that, he drops his hands and walks back to his truck. When I hear him open his door, I flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I face him. “I’m sorry. That was a really shitty thing to say and an even shittier thing to do.” I walk back to his truck. “But why are you doing this? This morning, in my car, you acted like you forgave me for last night.” I feel panicky. Miller’s expression is torn as he taps his fist against the frame of his door. Then he slams it shut and pulls me in for a frustrated hug.

“I know you and your mother aren’t getting along right now.” He looks down at me, his hands tilting my face up to his. “But I feel like you’re using me as your weapon in all these fights against her. It’s not fair to me.”

“I didn’t know it was going to turn into what it turned into.”

“It’s your fault it turned into that. You weren’t the victim in there tonight, Clara. You were the instigator.”

I shrug myself from his grip. “You have a bad memory if you think tonight was my fault. In case you forgot, I found out my mother has been having an affair with Jonah.”

Miller opens his door and gets in his truck. I plant myself in the space between him and his door so that he can’t shut it. His head falls against the back of his seat. “I want to go home.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He rolls his head until he’s looking at me. “I want to go alone.”

I’m not going to beg. I did enough of that last night. “That’s unfortunate.” I back away so that he can shut his door. He cranks his truck but rolls down the window.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” His voice has lost its edge, but it does nothing to make me feel better. He’s leaving me alone on my birthday. I realize dinner was a mess, but my entire life is a mess. What’s new?

I turn around and walk away from his truck.

“Clara.”

He’s confusing as shit with all this back-and-forth.

I spin around and march back to his window. “You know what? I don’t need this. I don’t want a boyfriend who makes me feel worse when I’m already down. I don’t want to date you anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” I back away but realize I’m not finished with my point, so I step back toward his truck. “They disrespected the two most important people in my life. They disrespected me. Am I just supposed to pretend I’m fine with it? Is that the kind of girlfriend you want? Someone who just gives up and lets other people win every time?”