Page 242 of Silver Sweet

Charlie leans back in his chair. “Congratulations.”

I shoot him an unamused look. “You already congratulated me, Charlie Keating.”

“Not for being just like everyone else.”

My stomach cramps and my head goes heavy.

“You think you’re special?” Charlie asks with one arched brow. “You’re resorting to cheap tricks to stay awake. It’s what weak-minded college students do to pass midterms.”

“Like you haven’t taken Adderall,” I retort.

“I don’t hold myself to impossible standards. You, though?” He gestures a hand at me. “You’ve lowered yourself already. Your work ethic isn’t exceptional. You’re cheating like every other typical person who can’t handle everything.” He tilts his head to capture my gaze. “You’re ordinary.”

These words should not puncture.

Should not dig.

Should not cut or wound.

Yet, I can’t see in front of my face for a second.

“I’m calling Dad,” Charlie says flatly.

I snatch his phone fast. “I’ll talk to him without the audience. Thank you. Goodbye.” I hear my wooden voice, and I hustle quickly into the nearest bathroom.

I pace along the marbled tile before I gather the courage to dial my dad’s number. I lose my nerve and hang up on the second ring.Shit. Fuck.

Scraping a hand through my hair, I blow out a breath.Get your shit together. You can do this. I jump when the phone buzzes in my hand.

Holy shit, he’s calling me back with avideorequest. I’m almost positive this is because I’m calling from Charlie’s phone. I do not have this kind of relationship with our dad. He wouldthink I butt-dialed him or, better yet, am taunting him to call me back just to pester him.

My fingers skate along my jaw in apprehension.

There’s really no avoiding this conversation now. I accept the video call, and my dad’s face fills the screen. Cannot even gloat over the furrowed brows and confusion pinching his expression. Catching my dad off guard—a real phenomenon.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Tom,” he says with surprised breath. “Tout va bien?”Is everything okay?

“Uhhh…” I adjust the phone on the vanity, leaning it up against the mirror. “Not really.”

“Did you steal Charlie’s phone?” he questions.

“I can see how that’d be a reasonable conclusion. Butno. He gave it to me. Or did I grab it from him?” I cast my gaze to the ceiling, spending an excessive amount of time pondering this trivial fact. I’d love to just disintegrate into the dust particles in the air to escape this talk.

“Put Charlie on the phone?—”

“No, no.” I hold up my hands. “This is a me-and-you thing.”

His frown deepens.

“Father and son. Man-to-man.” I let out a strained breath. “Holy shit, this is already going terribly.”

“Ralentis. Respire et dis-moi ce qui ne va pas.”Slow down. Take a breath and tell me what’s wrong.

I follow his suggestion, inhaling deeply. Then I focus on his sport coat and the coffee mug in his hand. It’s early morning, and it looks like he hasn’t left for work yet. I can see the shelves behind him from the breakfast nook in my childhood home. The familiarity eases my panic.

“I’m taking Adderall,” I suddenly confess.