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now? You’ve apparently been lying to me for months.”

“Let me get my charger and I can prove it.” For once, I’m thankful for Allyson’s penchant for texting us every ten minutes. I run and grab my charger from my room, plugging my phone in as quickly as I can. I fumble in my hurry, my dad’s angry stare sending goosebumps down my spine. Finally my phone powers on and I pray Tyler sent me the photo he promised. I open up my texts and hand it over to my dad to read.

Allyson: OMG, just found the best thing EVER!!!!!

Allyson: I’m totally getting my mom to buy these for tonight, it’s going to be HILARIOUS!

Attached is a photo of the Apple Beer, the label identical to what I showed my dad.

Megan: Hell yes, those are amazing.

Madison: I had those at Thanksgiving last year, they’re so good. Do it, it’s gonna be hysterical!

There’s a bunch of crying laughing emojis and a gif from me of a baby laughing so hard they fall over.

“See?” I tell my dad when he gets to the end of the messages. “Allyson’s mom bought them for us,” I add, in case that wasn’t clear. I take my phone back and open my message thread with Tyler, looking for the photo he was supposed to send me. I breathe a sigh of relief when it’s there.

I hand my phone back to my dad so he can see it. It’s a photo of Tyler, me, and Allyson with the cop who came to talk to us, each of us holding a bottle, clinking them together. Of course we gave him one, once he saw what they were.

“Well,” my dad clears his throat. “Okay then. I can see that you didn’t do anything quite as stupid as it looked.” I grin. It was funny, even he has to admit it. “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you have been lying to me and Martha about where you are for months.”

My grin falls. Damn, I was hoping I’d distracted him from this conversation.

“I don’t know if I can trust you to keep dating Tyler if you’ve been lying to me about going to see him.” I start to protest, but my dad holds his hand up to silence me. “No, you need to listen to me. Olivia, this serious. If you really like this boy, then you’ll do what it takes to earn back the trust you’ve broken.”

At my dad’s words, it hits me. I really like Tyler. The idea of not being able to see him leaves me breathless, like my heart is breaking apart inside my chest. Worse, he doesn’t deserve this, he never once lied to his parents about where we were or when he was out with me. I did this to myself. I did this to us and for what? To get my curfew extended by an hour?

“Please, Dad! I’m so sorry, I promise, it won’t happen again,” I say quickly, my throat tight and my eyes filling with tears. What have I done? “Please, it isn’t Tyler’s fault. You can ask the Stanleys, he never lied to them, it was only me, I swear. I just…” I hiccup, the words getting stuck in my throat. “I don’t know why I did it. It was so stupid. I just wanted to feel like I was in control of it all.” Now that the tears have started, I can’t stop them. God, I’m such an idiot.

My dad’s arm wraps around my shoulder, hugging me to his chest. “I’m not going to make you break up with him, Olivia. But there will be consequences.” At his words, I manage a deep, albeit wet and snotty, breath. “For one, you’re definitely grounded for the next two weeks.”

I probably deserve more, so I bite back my impulse to argue with him.

“And until I feel like I can trust you again your curfew is nine o’clock sharp. Not a minute later. We can negotiate extending it at a later date. And I’ll need you to check in and send proof of your location any time you go out. If you go somewhere new, you’ll have to let me know and send proof.” Is he serious? I have to check in with him every single time I go out? This time the urge to argue with him overpowers me, but as I open my mouth and make a noise, the look on my dad’s face stops me. I close my mouth, still fuming inside. I know arguing right now is only going to make things worse, but the words bubble up inside me anyway.

I take a slow breath, fighting down the angry words that are dying to get out. “Fine.” I get the single word out, gritting my teeth against the rest of the tirade in my mind. It’s not as bad as it could have been, I’ll just have to keep reminding myself.

“One more thing.”

“What is it?” I ask, willing myself to stay calm. Am I going to owe him babysitting on Friday nights for the next month?

“You owe Hannah an apology.”

Damnit.

“What?” I ask, that was not what I was expecting. I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why?”

My dad’s incredulous look leaves me squirming in my seat. “Olivia Rose Beck, you used your best friend to lie to me. When I called there looking for you tonight, she had no clue what you had been doing. She was worried sick about you.”

“She’s not my best friend anymore, Dad.” The idea of apologizing to Hannah has my stomach churning. Or maybe that’s leftover from the car ride. Or it could be the guilt I’ve been fighting off all week, the guilt I can feel below the surface of my anger.

“Do you really believe that?”

“What do you mean? Of course I believe it.” I say, annoyed. If I focus on being annoyed at Hannah and angry at my dad for punishing me, then maybe I can

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