Kismet

Chapter Eleven

    Three days passed, almost without a single thought about Mom and her. . .  thing. I wasn't going to call it a "problem". There wasn't really a thing to call it at all. And still she hadn't told Dad and Chris, or anybody else in my family as far as I knew. It took a lot from me not to spill it out to them.

   It was a day before the mysterious friend-of-Ethan's party. I had more information about the party, too. Ethan has been dropping me updates on it through texts. So far I knew you could go swimming but if you did you would have to bring another bag to put your electronics into. There would be at least fifty people, snacks but no over-age things, two adults chaperoning, it ends at whatever time- I had to go home at eleven, my curfew- and wear normal to slightly dressed clothes. 

    I'd told that all to my parents, too. Down to the very last detail I knew about. I kept pressing and reminding them about the chaperone, and if they even wanted to meet Evan's parents personally. I knew that would probably ruin my ride with Danny and Ethan, but it was too late to take back. They didn't want to go all the way to the party and back, anyways, so that worked out good.

   The part about Ethan and all the boys at the party was a bit hard to pass by my Dad, though.

    "Why does it matter?" I demand, standing over my Dad as he watches TV. "You know I won't do anything bad at that party Dad. Actually, it's not really considered a party! It's a. . .  a before-school gathering."

   "You were never the partying type, Kiara," Dad says, like it's his duty to remind me. "And I'm worried that the parents of this kid will be busy with the snacks and things." 

   "So they can't keep an eye on me?" I ask. "I'm not a kid anymore."

   "But you're still young," he tells me.

   The thing was, I didn't really, really, really want to go to this party of Evan's. But when I get into an argument, my oh so smart brain makes me want to win the thing I'm arguing about. This time, it's the party. I would gladly stay home, but Ethan's making me come.

    "Kiara-" he says.

   "Dad," I interrupt. "You can trust me. Ethan will be there. You trust him, right?"

   He eyes me. "Have you and Ethan started to d-"

   "No!" I cut him off. Again. "No, we aren't. God. No, I'm just saying that you trust him and that he'll be driving me and a few other kids there." 

   Okay, so that last part wasn't very truthful on my behalf. But my brain couldn't stop now.

   "I do trust him," Dad finally admits. I roll my eyes in my mind. So he trusts a guy he met a few weeks ago but he doesn't trust his daughter? 

   "Kiara's going to a party?" Chris suddenly interjects, popping his head out of the kitchen. "To whose?"

   "Please get out!" I tell Chris.

   "But who's party?" he asks me.

 "I'll talk about it later!" I snap at him. He sulks back into the kitchen, where I know he's eavesdropping. I turn back to Dad. "So? Can I?"

   He closes his eyes and sighs, rubbing his temples. He takes an awful long time to answer. "Fine. But your curfew's eleven, got it?"

   I nod gratefully, smiling. "Thank you, Dad." But inside my head, I'm groaning. What have I gotten myself into? I step aside, letting him resume watching football.

   I look into the kitchen to see Mom cooking dinner. I take a deep breath and walk fully into the steamy room. It was stir fry, and she was making the rice at the moment, it seems. I just sit there awkwardly, clutching my arm in my hand. I cough, and Mom turns towards me expectantly.