Kennedy had just confessed her feelings to me. She deserved the same in return. And if I didn’t tell anyone I’d kissed Matt soon, I was worried the weight of the lies would kill me. “You’re spending the night, right?” I locked arms with her as we started to walk up the steps again.
“Of course.”
“I have a lot to tell you.”
“Okay…” We climbed the steps in silence for a moment.
I needed to be in my bedroom, the door locked securely behind me. I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. No one else could know what I did. Kennedy was the only person I could trust.
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with how long you were searching for a bathroom tonight?” she asked as we stopped outside my apartment.
I pulled out my key. “I’ll tell you in a second. Keep your voice down. I’m hoping my uncle is already asleep.” But before I could put my key in the lock, the door opened.
My uncle was standing there with a frown on his face. “You’re fifteen minutes late,” he said. “I was worried sick.”
With everything that had happened tonight, I had completely forgotten about my curfew. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“It’s my fault,” Kennedy said. “It took me forever to find the bathroom before we left. All the ones downstairs were under construction and…”
My uncle held up his hand. “And you’re in love with cupcakes? Yeah, I could hear you yelling from the stairs.”
“Actually Cupcake. Singular. He’s a boy at our school.”
“Have you two been drinking?” my uncle asked.
I swallowed hard. “No.” How much could one more lie hurt?
He folded his arms across his chest. “You smell like a brewery. I told you two that I expected you to take better care of each other. But here you are again in the same state as last weekend. So I’m going to ask you one more time and I expect the truth this time. Have you two been drinking?”
“Someone spilled something on her dress,” Kennedy said. “And we…”
“Kennedy, I think it’s best if you head home,” he said.
“But…”
“Home. Now. Brooklyn, get inside.”
I cringed.
“But, Uncle Jim…” Kennedy started.
“One more word and I’ll be talking to your mother. Go home, Kennedy.”
Kennedy pressed her lips together, gave me an apologetic smile, and fled down the hall.
My uncle opened the door so I could come in.
I walked inside and started toward my room.
“Not so fast,” my uncle said.
I froze in my tracks.
“I gave you a 1 o’clock curfew and you broke it. You told me you wouldn’t be drinking tonight. But apparently you like to lie.”
The tears I had been holding back all night started to spill down my cheeks. I was a liar. All I seemed to be able to do was lie.
“And you lied again tonight when you so clearly have been drinking. I told you that I’m not an idiot. I know that kids drink. But you said you wouldn’t show up on my doorstep drunk ever again. And you’re wasted, Brooklyn. You reek of alcohol. You can barely stand up straight. What the hell were you thinking?”
