But Dad i Love Him

Chapter 4: Public Display

The autumn wind had a sharp, punishing bite as it whipped across the open expanse of the Oakridge High athletic field. It was 4:02 PM. The rest of the varsity track team was laughing and heading toward the warm, brightly lit gymnasium doors, their sneakers squeaking against the wet asphalt.

I lagged behind, pretending to struggle with the tangled laces of my running shoes. I kept my head down, my breath forming pale white plumes in the chilly air, until the final locker room door heavy-slammed shut.

The stadium was eerie when empty. The towering metal bleachers looked like giant, rusted skeletons against the darkening gray sky. Slipping past the outer fence, I ducked under the cold steel frame of the visitor stands, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"You're two minutes late, Princess."

I jumped, spinning around. Julian was leaning against one of the thick support beams, out of the wind. He wore his heavy leather jacket over a faded grey hoodie, a frayed red backpack slung over one shoulder. A faint scent of gasoline and cold metal hovered around him, mixed with the damp, earthy smell of the dirt ground beneath us.

"I had to wait until Coach Miller went inside," I said, catching my breath as I pulled my heavy biology and math binders from my bag. "If he sees me hanging around the visitor stands, he'll report it straight to my father."

"Relax. Nobody comes down here," Julian said. He unzipped his backpack, pulled out a battered, dog-eared Algebra II textbook, and dropped it onto the dry wooden crate sitting between us. "It's the ultimate blind spot. Perfect for top-secret tutoring."

I sat down on an overturned plastic bucket, pulling my knees close to keep warm. "Let's just get to work. We only have twenty-five minutes before my dad pulls up to the front entrance."

For the next twenty minutes, the stadium echoed with the low, rhythmic hum of our voices. I walked him through complex polynomial equations, pointing out where he was making silly sign errors. To my surprise, Julian wasn't bad at math—he was just wildly impatient. His mind moved too fast, skipping steps and jumping straight to the conclusion, which caused small, frustrating mistakes that dragged his test scores down.

"See?" I pointed my red pen at his paper, my finger brushing close to his calloused hand. "You forgot to distribute the negative sign across the second set of parentheses. That’s why your final graph is completely flipped."

Julian stared at the page, his brow furrowed in concentration. His dark curls tumbled over his forehead, shielding his eyes. "It's a stupid rule."

"It's not a stupid rule, it's basic algebra," I countered, a small, genuine smile creeping onto my face. "You can't just ignore the minus sign because you don't like it."

"Watch me," he muttered, but he picked up his pencil and corrected the mistake anyway.

He leaned back against the steel beam, looking down at me with a strange, unreadable expression. "You're a terrifying teacher, Maya. You know that, right?"

"I'm an effective teacher," I corrected, closing my binder with a crisp snap. "And you actually get it now. If you do this on Friday's quiz, you'll easily get a B."

Julian didn't answer. He was looking past my shoulder, his gaze fixing on the far parking lot beyond the chain-link fence. His jaw tightened instantly, all the relaxed ease vanishing from his posture.

"What is it?" I asked, turning to follow his line of sight.

"Speak of the devil," Julian said, his voice dropping an octave.

Parked near the street, right beside the curb of the diner across from the school, was a bright yellow convertible. Sitting in the driver's seat was Vanessa—Julian's ex-girlfriend—surrounded by two of her loud, popular friends. She was holding a plastic cup, staring intently toward the athletic field like she was waiting for someone to step out.

And heading straight toward the same diner from the main building was Sarah and Chloe, along with a group of varsity football players.

"Great," I murmured, panic cold and sharp spiking in my chest. "Everyone in the senior class is out there."

"This is phase two," Julian said softly. He stood up, zipping his leather jacket. "We made a deal, Maya. A public fake-date element to keep Vanessa off my back and keep your dad off-balance. If they see us walking out from behind the bleachers together, the rumors start instantly."

"Are you sure about this?" My voice shook. "If my father hears a whisper of this before I get into his car, I am completely finished."

"He's going to hear rumors anyway," Julian said, reaching down and holding out his hand to help me up from the bucket. His grip was steady and warm, cutting through the freezing wind. "Control the narrative, remember? If we act like we're hiding, we look guilty. If we act like we don't care who sees us, they won't know what to think."

I took a deep, shivering breath, adjusting my heavy backpack. "Okay. Let's do it."

We walked out from under the dark belly of the bleachers into the open twilight. The wind caught my hair, blowing it across my face, but I kept my head held high, marching beside Julian toward the side gate that led straight onto the sidewalk.

The moment we stepped through the gate, the atmosphere changed.

Vanessa was the first to notice. Her eyes widened in absolute shock as she saw Julian walking side-by-side with the principal's pristine, high-achieving daughter. She practically choked on her drink, pointing wildly across the hood of her car.

Then Chloe saw us. She froze mid-sentence on the diner steps, her mouth dropping open in utter disbelief. Sarah pulled out her phone so fast she nearly dropped it, her fingers flying across the screen as she broadcast the visual to the entire senior group chat.

"Don't look down," Julian murmured beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine as we walked. "Look right at them. Give them nothing."

"They're taking pictures, Julian," I whispered through clenched teeth, my cheeks burning despite the cold air. "My dad is going to see this before dinner!"

"Let him," Julian said coolly.

As we reached the edge of the diner parking lot, Vanessa threw her car door open and stepped out onto the pavement, her arms crossed tightly over her bright red jacket.

"Julian!" she called out, her voice sharp and ringing across the blacktop. "What is this? Are you seriously hanging out with her?"

Julian stopped. He didn't flinch or look flustered. Instead, he slowly reached out, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me flush against his side. The sudden heat of his body burned through my light jacket, sending a shockwave straight up my spine. My breath caught in my throat as he rested his chin near my head, his dark eyes locked onto Vanessa with deadpan indifference.

"I'm busy, Vanessa," Julian said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the quiet parking lot. "I'm walking my girlfriend to her ride."

The word girlfriend hung in the crisp autumn air like a thunderclap.

Chloe gasped loud enough for the whole street to hear. Vanessa's face turned a violent shade of purple, her eyes darting between Julian's arm wrapped firmly around me and the rigid, frozen expression on my face. She threw her hands up in utter disgust, spun around, and slammed her car door shut before tearing out of the parking lot with a screech of burning rubber.

"That," Julian whispered near my ear, his breath warm against my skin, "was poetry."

"You're out of your mind," I squeaked, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs. I tried to step back, but his arm held me firmly for another two seconds before he slowly released me, his fingers lingering on my shoulder.

"Look at your friends," Julian murmured, gesturing toward Chloe and Sarah. They were staring at us like we had just grown second heads, their phones buzzing non-stop in their hands. "Vanessa is gone for good. And your dad's strict little lockdown just got completely blown wide open."

Before I could reply, the sharp, authoritative glare of high beams cut through the gloom of the street.

A sleek white SUV pulled up to the curb, stopping with a harsh jerk right beside us. The passenger window rolled down with a smooth, mechanical hum, revealing my father's face.

He wasn't yelling. He wasn't making a scene in front of the diner. But his complexion was sickly pale with pure, unadulterated rage, his hands gripping the leather steering wheel so hard his knuckles looked like white marble.

"Get in the car, Maya," he said, his voice flat, dangerously calm, and devoid of any warmth. "Now."

I looked at Julian one last time. He didn't cower. He didn't look down. He just gave my father a slow, polite nod, pulling his hands into his jacket pockets as I dragged myself into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut.

The SUV peeled away from the curb, leaving the diner, my shocked friends, and Julian Vance disappearing into the dark rearview mirror.

"Explain yourself," my father said as we hit the main road, the tension in the car so thick it felt impossible to breathe. "You have thirty seconds before I call the school board and sign his transfer papers."

I squeezed my hands into tight fists in my lap, remembering the weight of Julian's arm around my shoulder, the feeling of standing my ground for the first time in my life. The good girl inside me was crying out to beg for forgiveness, but the girl sitting in this car was done begging.

"He's my boyfriend, Dad," I said, my voice echoing clear and unbreakable in the silent vehicle. "And there's nothing you can do about it."