Free To the Steadfast by Briana Gaitan Page B

want a letter from him?”
    “I guess it will make
my dad happy.”
    Killian shrugs. “Don’t
worry about it. I’m sure he’ll do it. Wanna smoke a joint before we eat?” He
whips a joint out of his pocket and waves it in front of my face.
    My eyes light up. This
will piss my mom off. “We’ll be back, Mom! Just going to show Killian our
garden.”
    Before she can answer,
I whisk Killian through the house toward our backyard. Behind the pool is my old
playhouse. It’s only one room and built to represent a miniature castle. I open
the front door and bend down so I can walk inside. I’d begged my dad for a
whole year before he had the house built for me. I’d even had it furnished with
a mini fridge and everything. I still come out here sometimes.
    Killian gives a low
whistle as he sits down in one of the miniature chairs. “Nice place you got
here.”
    “It’s where I take all
the guys,” I say with a wave of my hand.
    He lights the joint and
passes it my way. “So, where’s your dad?”
    “Who knows? Working?” I
inhale and hold it slowly as I think about how little my dad has been around.
Even more so than usual.
    “About this prom thing.
I hope I didn’t put too much pressure on your earlier.”
    “No! No, I want to go.”
    “Good. I can’t believe
no one asked you.”
    “Believe it.”
    He blows the cherry out
of the end of the joint and puts it back in his pocket. “How many of these
dinner parties are you forced to bullshit through every month?”
    “One, two, sometimes
more.”
    “Then,” he leans in,
eyes sparkling with amusement. “Let’s make this the worst dinner party in the
universe and we won’t have to sit through another one of these things again.
Our parents will be so embarrassed they’ll never take us out again.”
    “You’re on.” We climb
out of the playhouse and walk back inside.
     Before we enter the
dining room, Killian ruffles up my hair and untucks his shirt. “Let’s give them
something to worry about, huh?”
    “You are bad,” I hiss,
hiding a smirk.
    “There you are!” my
mother sings out, walking over to grab my arm. She sniffs a few times. “You
smell like marijuana.”
    “No, Mom. It’s Chanel
no 5.” I wave my hand at her and laugh.
    She glares at me before
turning to Killian. “Killian, dear. Your mother went home. She was feeling
ill.”
    “Wonderful.” He slaps
his hands together and rubs them back and forth. “Now what have you cooked up
for us, Mrs. Lombardi?” He walks further into the room where his father is
already seated, waiting.
    “Mother doesn’t cook,”
I announce. “Mother orders food.”
    She giggles nervously.
“Normally I cook, but tonight I wanted Cook to prepare something special. Veal.”
    I make a gagging noise
and Killian joins in.
    “Mrs. Lombardi, when
did you feel it was all right to serve houseguests baby cow?”
    “It’s a delicacy,” she
says with a look of pure shock on her face.
    The Senator clears his
throat and cuts in. “So, Dakota. Your Mother tells me you are applying to
Columbia next year?”
    I sit down across from
Killian’s father and unfold my napkin. “That’s what I’m being told.”
    That remark earns
another glare from my mother so I go on. “You know, anything to make sure I’m a
thousand miles away.”
    One of the servers
hired for tonight sets a salad in front of me.
    “Well. I’d be happy to
write you a letter providing your grades are in order.”
    “I’m failing chemistry,
but other than that, I’m in tip-top shape.” I hold an arm out and flex my
practically nonexistent muscle.
    “She’s kidding,” my
mother says.
    The senator takes a
bite of his food. “Killian tells me he’s taking you to prom.”
    My mother looks up from
her plate. “Haven’t you already graduated, Killian?”
    “Yes, but Cody didn’t
have a date so I offered my services.”
    The Senator leans
forward with his wine glass in hand to stare the two of us down. “She’s
sixteen—”
    “Almost