Read Online Promise Me Something by Sara Kocek - Free Book Online Page B

looking at me. She was staring straight ahead at her father. And before I had time to wonder about the word, she smoothed it over with the flat edge of her fork.
    Other than Olive’s uncle dropping a plate of apple pie onto the carpet, dinner was uneventful. When we were finally excused after dessert, I followed Olive up to her room and set down my overnight bag on her impeccably made queen bed. “Well?” I asked. “What happened with your parents?”
    “I didn’t want my grandmother to hear,” said Olive, kicking off her shoes in the direction of the closet. I took off my own shoes and lined them up neatly below her desk. Then I looked around, wondering whether I should sit on the floor or the bed.
    “Just sit on the bed,” said Olive, noticing my hesitation. “It’s where we’re both going to be sleeping anyway. There used to be a cot up here, but I hardly ever had sleepovers, so my dad moved it to the storage shed.” She looked faintly embarrassed. “Sorry.”
    “It’s OK,” I said. Madison had a queen bed too, and sometimes we slept in it together. It was easier and more comfortable than using a sleeping bag.
    “The thing about my parents—you have to keep it to yourself,” Olive said, lowering her voice and making sure the door was closed.
    I nodded and sat down on the bed, wondering if they were getting a divorce.
    Shetook a seat by the desk. “My dad wants to run for public office.”
    I stared at her.
    “District attorney,” she said. “Can you believe the jerk?”
    I hardly knew what to say. “Is that bad?”
    “Are you serious?” She laughed. “He’s a Republican.”
    “Oh.” I looked down and busied myself with a loose thread on my shirt. I didn’t want to get into politics—not with Olive.
    “It’s not just that,” she sighed. “When you run for office, your whole life gets pushed under a microscope. Your personal life. Your family’s personal life.”
    “Are you sure?” I crossed my legs and leaned back against the headboard. “It’s not like he’s running for president. I’ve never even heard of the district attorney.”
    “That’s because you don’t pay attention,” she said. “It’s a pretty big deal, and my mom flipped out when he told us. She threatened to tell a reporter about the time he cheated on her a couple years ago—as though that’s the real scandal in this family.”
    “He cheated on her?”
    “I don’t know.” She sighed again. “It’s one of those accusations she flings around when she’s drunk, only she wasn’t even drunk this morning.”
    “Not at dinner either.”
    Olive blinked. “You noticed?”
    “Just a guess.” Mrs. Barton’s pinched, angry face floated in my mind.
    “It’s because my dad threw out every drop of alcohol in the house this morning.” She stood suddenly. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
    Without waiting to see if I was following, she strode out of her bedroom and led me down the hallway into another room—her father’s study. When she pushed open the heavy wooden door, I heard the sound of shattered glass crunch under its arc. The room looked fancy at first glance—my eyes landed on a great oak desk and a huge, swooping reading lamp—but nothing else was as it should have been. It looked like the scene of a crime. There was shattered glass everywhere and a dozen long-stemmed white tulips scattered across the rug.
    “My mom did it this morning,” said Olive. “She lost control.”
    I felt a pang and thought of Dad after the car accident, when he received the part of the medical bill not covered by insurance. He flung his bowl of Rice Krispies onto he floor, the milk splattering all the way across the kitchen. “You must’ve been scared,” I said, staring at the scattered tulips on the floor. I thought about picking one up, putting it into a vase with fresh water, and giving it to Olive.
    “Whatever,” she said. “As long as I don’t have to clean it, I don’t care.”
    “It’s