Hate to Say I Told You So

Chapter Twelve

The day before the dance proceeded as usual. Girls talked about who would go with whom, and seeing who had what dresses and all of the other girly crap I never cared much about. Ross looked happier than I had ever seen him whenever we ran into each other.

I waited outside for someone to walk with, when Ross came up and nudged my elbow with his, "Hey, let's walk." He kept his elbow bent and I took it.

Ross spent most of the walk trying to talk me into reading this series he had started about this kick ass teen spy, but those novels weren't my thing. Much to Ross' horror to discover, I preferred books with a touch of romance.

"Ah, Belle, my vision of you is forever altered!" Ross took his spare hand and held it to his chest like it hurt him to hear about my taste in reading.

"Says the guy reading a teen novel." I joked right back. I then settled the argument by resting my head on his shoulder. The leather of his jacket went buttery smooth beneath my cheek, and the spice of his cologne made my nose tingle in a way I think I liked. Whenever Ross and I walked together, it always seemed like the streets had the just two of us, even it wasn't true in reality, and I liked that. I closed my eyes and enjoyed my own little world.

Yelling from inside the house from both of my parents ripped me form out little alternative reality. His reaction told me Ross noticed it, too. He put his hand on mine when I tried to take it out of the crook of his elbow.

"Belle, are you sure it's okay to go in there? It sounds pretty bad." He had this look on his face that let me know that he felt concerned for me, which I found myself liking.

"Yeah, I'm used to it, I swear." I started to pull away again, but Ross' grip became tighter.

"Hey," He took my face in his hands, which threw me off a bit, "I'm going to call you later to check in, okay? And I want you to pick up so that I know you're okay."

I hadn't told Ross about how bad the fighting could get when it came to my parents. My dad had never hit any of us, but things always got very tense. He still had a look of concern.

"Okay." He let go of my face, and my cheeks grew cold without the warmth of his hands. "I'm going to call, and you're going to pick up. Understood? If you don't, I'll have no other choice but to come over and check up on you in person."

"Ross, I'll be fine, I promise." He didn't look convinced, "Thank you for worrying about me." I made sure to smile.

He smiled back, "Of course." He pulled me in for a hug and held me tight. He kissed my cheek and left.

By the time I got inside, my dad had already locked himself in his office, and Billy Joel played on his stereo.

I didn't even say hi to anyone before going up to my room. True to his word, Ross called later that night to check in. Having someone worry about me since Collin seemed too obsessed with Heather to even care meant more than I could say. We didn't stay on the phone for long, but I still found myself wishing about him before I went to bed.

...

On the morning of the dance, I went downstairs to find that my mom made a big family breakfast, but three sets of dishes sat on the table.

"Good morning, Isa!" She said with far too much cheer. That meant my dad went into the office. On a weekend. Which meant that he would most stay there all day and not show up for the dance. That meant that my dad would me down. Again. I didn't even know why I resembled surprised.

My mom had made my appointments with a friend of hers who did this stuff for fun. I walked into her house, which reeked of hairspray. However, her work looked incredible. My hair ended up in this French twist that made me look like a blonde Audrey Hepburn. She painted my nails a perfect golden color, and I learned some tips for how to put on mascara without stabbing myself in the eye.