I nodded. “You’re right. That is all on me. But twice—twice—I was going to go to Adam, tell him everything and make this right. Who stopped me both times? It didn’t have to come to this—it probably wouldn’t have. And now, because it wasn’t handled earlier, everything is ten times worse.” I took a long, painful breath. He was about to speak, but I cut him off. “And this time with everybody watching me, probably taking pictures with their phones. I’m sure my ass will be all over the Internet again. This time attached to my name. But hey, you got me back for what I did, didn’t you? You got your karma.”

His mouth fell open. “April—”

“Don’t say anything. Just turn around and walk away.” I couldn’t have said another word, anyway, because my breath was stolen in shattering sobs. He made a move toward me again but I backed away, holding up my hand.

Through my tears, I saw my dad exiting the building, striding toward the car like a man on a vendetta mission. I nodded my head in his direction and slipped into my seat, sinking into the plush leather. I slammed the car door shut after me. It was hot and stuffy inside, but I didn’t want to roll down the window. I wished I could curl up and die.

Jordan hesitated by my door for a few moments longer before drifting away. He crossed paths with my dad on his way back into the building. Dad hesitated for a few seconds, nodding at Jordan with a grim face, his eyes continually fixed on me.

Then Jordan continued to the building without looking back, and I dropped my eyes to the dashboard, folding my arms over my chest protectively. I tried to ignore the sting inside me that came with every beat of my heart.

Dad opened the door, slid into the driver’s seat and then slammed the door shut after him. Coolly, I handed him his keys, leaned away from him and stared out the window. He started the car and, without speaking, headed toward the 5 freeway, which would take us back to his house and my car.

However, before he even made it onto the interstate, he pulled over into a strip mall parking lot and turned off the ignition. I didn’t look up from where I fiddled with my phone. I’d checked social media and already tweets were starting to appear under the hashtags #ComicConSexGeeks and #assexposed. My name and handle were all over them, along with pictures of my backside in the torn bathing suit.

There were no personal texts on my phone. I was already wishing one would show up. One with two little words, the words he hadn’t said to me. I’m sorry…

Dad waited for a moment, taking a deep breath. Throughout my childhood, the only time I’d ever heard him yell was at people who worked for him. He’d never yelled at me before, even those times when I wished he had rather than not acknowledge me at all.

But he couldn’t just shove me away now. I was the daughter who had publicly disgraced him in front of everyone involved in his exciting new business venture.

“Put your phone away for a minute,” he said in a quiet voice.

I held my breath and did as he asked.

“I’m going to be blunt. I’m too angry to get on the freeway right now.”

“Do you want me to drive, then?”

“I want you to tell me what the hell was in your head. Why would you do something like this and risk blowing your entire future?”

I straightened, squaring my shoulders, digging deep within myself to find the strength to say the words burning on my tongue. I looked him straight in the eye as I spoke.

“I made a very bad choice. If you can say you’ve never done the same, then you get the right to judge me for it. But you can’t, because I’m living proof of one of the worst choices you’ve ever made.”

He scowled. “So you are going to make this about me and your mother? I’ve heard this song and dance before…but you aren’t a teenager anymore. You’re twenty-two years old. You need to grow up.”

“You’re right. I do. But…isn’t that what growing up is all about? Making mistakes and learning from them? Isn’t that how you learned?”

He ran a hand over his eyes and I noticed he was a little pale. There was a long, tense silence. His phone chimed and he pulled it out, read the text message—likely from Rebekah—and typed something into it. Then he put his phone down.

“You know what hurts me most about this? Beyond any of the embarrassment, it’s the fact that you’re sabotaging yourself and your future. You’re in danger of throwing your life away. You’re an intelligent, beautiful woman. You really shouldn’t be blaming your poor choices on your parents.”