Blackmail

Sick

I finish up my conversation with the class president, Molly Wilkes.

"Is Lilianna there?"

"Yeah."

"Grab her for me?"

"Sure."

She disappears off into the party and I focus on the people in the background. Looks like they are having a fun time. Dancing and laughing, all the things I'm missing out on right now.

As much as I wish I could have actually gone to the party, I'm glad I'm with the girls. I am not a very social person. Not even with my classmates.

Lili appears and I smile.

"Hey!"

"Hey. How's the party?"

"It's boring without you."

"Definitely looks like it."

She laughs and her head touches the table, revealing a sight that makes my stomach churn.

Nate and some girl from our class are swapping spit. Not even just a peck.

Lili picks her head back up, her face dropping when she sees my expression.

"What's wrong, girl?"

"Turn around and please tell me that's not Nate and Jasmine making out."

She obnoxiously swings her head around, making me wonder who spiked the punch this time. She turns to face me once more.

"Would it make you happier if I said it wasn't?"

I choke back a sob. My mind drifts to every other night I haven't been with Nate.

Has he been smooching her since day one? Is she his side chick?

It doesn't even matter. Just the sight makes me sick to my stomach.

"I have to go, Lili. I'll talk to you later."

"Want me to yell at him?"

"No. Just leave him alone. He seems busy."

The word is like poisonous venom as it leaves my lips.

"Okay. I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Sleep off your hangover, Lili. Come when you're sober again."

I end the call before she can protest any further.

"Everything okay? That last part of the conversation didn't sound so good."

"Everything is fine."

"You know you can tell me, Celia. I'm your father."

He sits down on the couch and I breakdown. I curl up against his side, just like I did when I was little. He runs his hand over my hair.

"Tell me about it. It'll make you feel better."

"I just saw Nate and some chick making out at the party."

He tenses up but doesn't physically move.

"I'm going to teach him a lesson next time he comes over here."

The hiccups start and I struggle to get out my words.

"No. Just lock the doors and don't let him in. Or tell him I can't see him. Tell him I'm out. Just don't start a fight. You'll go to prison and I'm not eighteen yet. They'll put me into foster care and nobody would want a teen mother."

"Calm down, Celia. I won't let him near you again."

"Thank you."

"You're my daughter. I'd do anything for you."