Starboy

Chapter 5: Sneaking Out

I went home after that disastrous evening and suddenly, I was glad to be home. I was glad to have a dad who didn't care what school I went to or what I majored in. And even more so, I felt horrible about leaving Dad alone for dinner. I can't believe I ditched him for that dinner.

"Dad?" I asked, opening my front door. 

Dad was sitting on the couch, looking through what seemed to be my college acceptance letter. "Hey, kid. How was dinner at that boy's house?" He asked, his eyes still on the paper.

"You mean Benji?" I raised my eyebrow. As I mentioned, Dad didn't like Benji. He wasn't even aware of his bad drinking habits or behaviour with girls, but Dad told me he had a sixth sense: the boy sense. He said he knew Benji was a 'bad apple' and still thinks Benji is trying to sleep with me, which I remind him all the time that he isn't.

Sometimes I wonder why he hasn't tried sleeping with me the way he tries with all the other girls, but I have to tell myself it must be a good thing. He must respect me.  

"Yeah, yeah." He dismissed me. "Come sit, honey. I missed you all day." I sat right next to him and he put his arm over me. "How was it, though--dinner with the devil?"

I laughed. "It was... eventful." He looked suspicious. "Horrible." I finally admitted. "Benji's dad kicked him out of the house."  

"He what?" Dad sat up straight and looked me in the eye. "Kicked him out?" I nodded. "What the hell for?"   

I couldn't tell him the truth. Even though Dad and I have a very healthy relationship, telling him the truth--the real truth--about Benji would kill my dad. He would trust Benji even less and probably never want me to see him ever again. "I don't know." I lied. "No, I'm kidding."

I regretted telling him right away. There's no good reason for someone to be kicked out without it looking bad on them. "His parents are buying him an apartment closer to NYU." 

"Ah..." He sighed. "So Benji's officially going to NYU?"  

I nodded. "He'll be studying business. He's real smart." I told him, trying to get my dad to trust him a little bit more.  

"Business is full of con artists and liars." He said.

"Dad, I'm in business." I reminded him. 

"Of course, you're not a con artist. Or a liar. You're my angel, Brand. You can't trust men. Especially not businessmen. They're already liars because they're men, and it's even worse when they're in business--the most manipulative work out there. It's like adding dirt to dirt, hon." He explained ruthlessly. 

I shook my head, laughing. "You don't know Benji. You refuse to talk to him."

"I've met him before, Brand. I know what kind of kid he is--a bad apple." There it was again with the bad apple reference.    

"Dad, if you don't give him a chance then you'll just be a stubborn, judgemental man, now is that what you want to be labelled as?" Stubborn? Judgemental?" I asked.

He took a minute before replying. "Why is it you want me to like him so much?" Oh, no. No, no, don't say it. "You like this boy or something?" He teased. 

"No, Dad, it's not like that," I reassured him.

"Does he like you?" He asked fearfully.

"No, not like that. Dad!" I felt embarrassed and awkward.

"Can you blame me for wondering? You hang out with him all the time. At his house..."

"So?" I scoffed jokingly. "We're friends. Friends hang out at friends' houses." 

"He hasn't pressured you into sex now, has he? 'Cause I'll kill him. Mark my words, I will-"

I stopped him before he could say anything else. "DAD!" I interrupted him. "We have not had sex and we will never, ever have sex. Okay? Does that make you feel better?" He's never even asked me about it before.  

That last part was a lie. Well, sort of. He's never asked me to have sex with him but he has asked me about sex-- like if I've had it. And I told him no, which was the truth. I've always kind of liked Benji and felt weird about being with anyone else--which is ridiculous because he's made it clear he doesn't mind being with other girls. 

When I asked him how many times he's done it, he told me he doesn't keep count... which sounds like a lot. Who doesn't keep count? Why the hell wouldn't you keep count? I found it ridiculous. I love Benji, but I didn't and do not condone his lifestyle or most of his choices. 

After I said goodnight to Dad after a very uncomfortable sex talk, I took a long, well-needed shower and changed into something comfy. My phone suddenly started to ring so I checked the caller ID, and found that it was none other than Benji.

I jumped onto my bed to got into a comfortable position and flipped open my cell phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Brand. What are you doing?" He asked.

"I just took a shower. Now I'm in bed. So nothing. What's up?" I couldn't help but wonder what he wanted. Benji only calls me when something urgent is happening. 

"Can we meet? How about the skatepark? I need to talk to someone--I need to talk to you." He emphasized 'you' which gave me mad butterflies and I kicked myself for liking it. I really didn't want to like Benji. He was just so charming and I hated him for it. 

"It's late, Benj. We have school tomorrow morning and I still have homework to do." I had to let him down. 

"I know, B, but I really need to see you. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent. You know that." 

"You're not drunk, are you?" I needed to know.

"No, I'm not drunk. Please. The park. I'll be there in fifteen." He hung up before I could say anything, which was clever of him. 

I sighed and put on my outdoor clothes again. I knew Dad would never let me go out at ten o'clock at night to see a boy, especially this boy, which meant I had to do something I really hated doing: sneaking out.

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