“Abby has the face, Pam,” Dad said.
“No, she doesn’t,” I snapped back, more to myself than to him.
“You’re right,” Mom said. “That is definitely the face.”
They meant Abby’s poker face. Any stranger would think nothing of it, but we all knew what it meant.
I turned to them with a contrived smile. “I reserved a table for six. I think Jack and Deana are already heading that way. I’ll just grab Shepley, and we’ll meet you there.”
Mom batted her eyes and pretended like she didn’t know I was trying to get rid of them, just like all the times when they’d ignored Abby’s poker face when we were getting caught in a lie. My parents weren’t stupid, but they were also nontraditional in the way that, as long as we were safe, they’d allow us to make mistakes. They didn’t know those mistakes had been made in Las Vegas.
“America,” Mom said. Her tone alerted me to something more serious than the scene on the beach. “We have an idea on what this brunch is about.”
“No, you don’t,” I began.
She held up her hand. “Before you make everyone at the table uncomfortable, your dad and I have discussed it, and our feelings haven’t changed.”
My mouth fell open, and my words tripped over my tongue several times before I could form a coherent sentence. “Mom, just please hear us out.”
“You still have two years left,” Mom said.
“It’s a great apartment. It’s close to campus—” I said.
“School has never come easy to you,” Mom interjected.
“Shepley and I study all the time. I’m carrying a three-point-oh.”
“Barely,” Mom said, sadness in her eyes.
She hated telling me no, but she would when she felt it was important, which made it really hard for me to argue.
“Mom—”
“America, the answer is no.” Dad shook his head, holding up his hands, palms out. “We’re not financing an apartment with your boyfriend, and we don’t feel like you could hold satisfactory grades and work enough hours to pay rent, even half the rent. We don’t know how Shepley’s parents feel, but we can’t agree to it. Not yet.”
My shoulders fell. For weeks, Shepley had been preparing a speech with calm rebuttals and sound arguments. He would be devastated—again—just like the last time when we’d announced that we would be moving in together and were shut down.
“Daddy,” I whined, a last-ditch effort.
He wasn’t moved. “Sorry, sweet pea. We’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring it up at brunch. It’s our last day. Let’s just—”
“I get it. Okay,” I said.
They both hugged me and then walked toward the restaurant. I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out a way to break the news to Shepley. Our plan had been sunk before we even had a chance to present it to our parents.
Shepley
“Shit,” I said under my breath.
America’s conversation with her parents hadn’t looked pleasant, and when they walked off and she looked at me, I already knew what had happened.
“Trav, look at me,” Abby said, holding his chin until his eyes focused on hers.
“I can’t tell you. That’s as truthful as I can be.”
Abby put her hands on her hips and bit her lips together, scanning the horizon. “Can you at least tell me why you can’t tell me?” She looked back at him with her big gray eyes.
“Thomas asked me not to, and if I do … we won’t be able to be together.”
“Just answer me this,” Abby said. “Does it have to do with another woman?”
Confusion and then horror reflected in Travis’s eyes, and he hugged her again. “Christ, baby, no. Why would you even ask that?”
Abby hugged him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “If it’s not someone else, then I trust you. I guess I just won’t know.”
“Really?” Travis asked.
“Travis, what the hell is it?” I asked.
Travis frowned at me.