Free Never Gonna Tell by Sarah M. Ross

late, young lady, and you have some ‘splainin to do!” Mom’s mood is still somewhat playful, so I know she’s not truly pissed.
    I drop my backpack on the bench in the entrance way and head for the family room instead. Plastering on a fake smile, I brace to see Mom and Dad. Ever since I was a little girl, Dad always sensed when I was lying to him. I’d gotten better at it over the years, but if something is really big or bothering me, he always knows. Always.
    I can’t let him know about this, for no other reason than to protect him. I start with my excuse before they can bombard me with questions. “I’m so sorry. I ran into a few friends while I was at the library, and I ended up going out for burgers and a shake afterwards. I completely lost track of time. I won’t let it happen again.”
    Hoping that’ll be enough to appease them, I bounce over to Dad, who is reclining on his Lazyboy, drop the keys in his awaiting hand, and give him a kiss on the cheek.
    “I don’t think the burger agreed with me, so I’m going to take a shower and head to bed, if that’s okay. I don’t have much homework left and I have study hall before it’s due anyway.” I give Mom a quick hug and turn to leave. “Love you. Goodnight.”
    I don’t even make it out of the family room before I hear, “Reagan Margaret, get back here.”
    Cringing, I wipe my face of emotion and turn around to face my parents. “Yes, Daddy?”
    He stares at me inquisitively for a moment, and I know he’s attempting to read what I’m trying to hide. I make a conscious effort to not think about the events of earlier tonight. Everything depends on it. Puppies. I think of puppies. Happy puppies!
    He opens his mouth, but says nothing and after a moment seems satisfied. He shakes his head slightly and points to the dining room. “Some mail came for you today. I think it’s the letter of recommendation you asked for from your old journalism teacher in Baltimore.”
    My cheeks hurt from feigning this happy routine for so long, but I’m almost in the clear. “That’s great! Thanks!”
    I’m halfway up the stairs when Mom yells up, “And we’ll talk about how long you’re grounded for tomorrow.”
    I don’t bother to reply. Instead I head straight for my bathroom, locking the door behind me before peeling off my clothes. I set the water to scalding and step inside, sinking to the floor as the tears come flooding back. I don’t let myself worry about the consequences or attempt to think of a plan or what to do next. Instead, I grieve. I grieve for the man who lost his life and grieve for the future I’ll probably never have.
    I stay in the shower until no hot water remains, and only when I begin to shiver from the cold do I decide it’s probably time to get out. As much as I’d like to, I can’t hide in here forever. I step out of the shower and wipe the mirror clear of the steam. I look like crap, which is fitting since I feel like it too. I dry off before donning a big fluffy robe, and, scooping up my clothes, I head for my bed. I just want to crawl under the covers and drift off, pretending this night never happened.
    A soft knock on my door brings me back to the present. “Honey? You still up?”
    I tighten the belt on my robe and pick up my brush, running it through my hair. “Yeah, Mom. Come on in.”
    Mom sits precariously at the foot of my bed, crossing her legs. Whatever she came to tell me, it’s not going to be quick. She only sits on my bed when she plans on staying a while. “You had a visitor while you were in the shower.”
    Now that is not what I expected. It’s going to take Charlie at least ten hours to drive here, so it can’t be him, and Kally is still out of town. “Huh? Who would come over this late?”
    “He said his name was Marco. Didn’t give a last name.”
    My heart stops. Sweet mother of God, this is sooo not good. “Oh?” It’s the only sound I can get my vocal cords to make.
    “Listen, Reagan. I know