I could tell at once my dad didn’t like Vincent. The moment he entered the house, he dodged my hug, opting to head straight for Vincent. They both sized each other up for a few minutes before my dad faked a punch. Well, I didn’t know he was going to fake it, so I’d cried out in protest, but Vincent didn’t flinch. My dad didn’t like that. Vincent folded his hands over his chest, his eyes twitching in annoyance as my dad attacked him with thousands of questions. How old he is, what bad things he’s done, what his grades are in school, what’s his family like, does he have any siblings, how he knows my aunt, and a lot more.
Now Vincent was glaring at me, as if it was my fault my dad was acting like the Spanish Inquisition.
“Emily?”
I twirled on my heel, coming face-to-face with my mom coming
