Spark. Brigid Kemmerer
talk,” whispered Layne.
“In the kitchen,” said Gabriel. With his keys. The only thing keeping him trapped here was twenty feet of white carpeting, blocked by her father.
“Yet you were upstairs.” Her father still hadn’t broken eye contact. “Taking the tour, I assume?”
Gabriel smiled, though it wasn’t really funny. “Actually, yeah.”
“Shut up,” hissed Layne.
Her dad’s eyes narrowed. “How old are you?”
Gabriel already didn’t like this guy. He gritted his teeth and wondered if he could shove past him. “Seventeen.”
“Do you know what the age of consent is?”
“Dad! Oh my god.” Layne took a step forward. Her face was even redder. “We weren’t doing anything!”
“I asked you a question, son.”
“I’m not your son.” Now Gabriel just wanted to shove him, period. He stepped into the foyer, feeling his shoulders tighten. “And I didn’t know there was an age of consent for standing in a hallway.”
“Don’t get smart with me, kid.”
“Stop it,” said Layne, putting her hands up like they were going to take a swing at each other. “Look, it’s a misunderstanding—”
“Layne.” Mr. Forrest didn’t even glance at her. “Get his things. Right now.”
“I can get my things,” said Gabriel.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Layne was caught between them, flustered. She was nearly wringing her hands. “Dad, it’s not—”
His eyes cut right. “Now, Layne.”
She swallowed and slinked past him into the living room.
“Don’t forget my box of condoms,” called Gabriel.
Now her dad looked like he wished he had a shotgun. “If I find out you laid a hand on my daughter—”
“What?” said Gabriel. “You’ll stand here and bitch about it?”
“Stop it!” cried Layne, dragging his coat and backpack from the kitchen.
Her dad took a step forward. “I’ll have you arrested and charged with trespassing and statutory rape.”
“Then I’m going to need another fifteen minutes.”
“Shut up.” Layne flung the coat at his chest, then barely gave him time to grab it before she shoved the backpack at him. Her eyes were red. Was she ready to cry?
He felt something inside his chest loosen. “Layne—”
“Get out of my house,” said Mr. Forrest. His words could cut ice.
Gabriel didn’t move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Layne. “Hey, I’m—”
“Go.” She wasn’t looking at him. “Just go.”
Her dad opened the door. “Now.”
Gabriel dug his keys out of his backpack and pushed past him.
But on the front walk he stopped and turned.
Before he could say a word, her father slammed the door and locked it shut, leaving Gabriel out in the cold.
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