I smile at the thought of Finch. “It went better than okay. He was perfect and so was our night together.”
“Fate,” she whispers. “Sometimes the stars align just right and everything works out for the best. I believe in fate. That’s what led me to Mr. F. I also believe that’s what led me to you, Ella. You needed someone. I was there at the right time.”
“They say timing is everything,” I mutter, though I never believed in it much after my father died. Maybe Mrs. F is on to something, though.
She checks her watch and frowns. “You had better get going if you want to make your curfew. See me when you can. I know your stepmother has rules that will likely prevent you from setting plans. Just stop by whenever you are free to hang out.”
“It would be my pleasure,” I say and mean it.
I can’t even remember the last time a complete stranger went out of their way for me. Never?
We say our goodbyes. Then, I haul ass down the driveway and out the front gate. My feet and adrenaline carry me the rest of the way, and by the time I step foot into the foyer, I’m out of breath and have two minutes to spare.
Of course, Clarissa is in her usual chair in the sitting room with one bony leg crossed over the other, facing the opposite direction as me. But I don’t need to see her face to feel her disdain from afar. She holds up her skinny wrist, and the silky fabric of her robe slides down her arm and bunches up at her wrist. Even though she knows I’m here, she won’t bother to get up on my accord.
I don’t warrant her time or attention. She’s always made that clear through her snide remarks and devilish facial expressions. Her voice is always cool and calm, so unaffected that it puts you on edge because she’s screaming with her eyes, without even changing her tone.
Before I close the front door, Bitch and Bitchier stroll into the house behind me, pretending as if I am a piece of furniture in their way. Their black gowns move with each sway of their hips, as they stomp their stilettos onto the white marble floor.
“Mother!” Anastasia yells, announcing her arrival. The sound of her shrill voice echoes off the vaulted ceilings.
I wish the girls were more like their mother and kept their tones hushed. When you combine their nasty comments with their angry scowls and their outdoor voices, it makes any interaction with them a lot worse.
“Oh, Mother,” Natasha chimes. “You have got to hear this. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Clarissa gets up from her chair, dressed in a tight black robe that falls to the floor, giving the illusion that she’s floating as she moves toward us. I can see why my father was attracted to her. She oozes grace and style and has every ounce of refinement one would need to marry someone as wealthy as my dad. But she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The smug grin she wears like a shield is as fake as the veneers on her teeth or the French tips that never have as much as a chip in the paint.
It’s unbelievable that she spoils her daughters so much that Clarissa has no problem with the manner in which they speak to her. My mother—as nice as she was—would have smacked the words right off my lips if I had ever talked to her with such disrespect.
“Mother, you will not believe this skank who showed up
at the party and caused a scene.”
Clarissa cocks an eyebrow at Natasha. “What kind of scene?”
“Some girl showed up in a pale blue ball gown and a mask with a purple feather sticking out from the top. Every guy at the party was talking about her all night. That bitch was the reason Finch wouldn’t talk to me.”
I try to hide my victory along with the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“What are you laughing about?” Natasha snorts, shooting me a look of death “And where did you go looking like that?” She studies my tattered dress and gives her usual eye roll. Nothing I wear, no matter how expensive or fancy, would ever be good enough for my stepsisters.
“Aww, she tried to get into the party, and they told her to get lost. Isn’t that right, Ella?” Anastasia says, moving closer, the three of them now surrounding me.
I take a step back from my stepsisters and almost fall into Clarissa. She moves to the side because God forbid I accidentally touch her. For all I know, her skin might set on fire. This night was too perfect for it to end on a bad note. They take everything from me. I will not allow them to take away the feeling deep within my bones that Finch left behind. He clawed his way into my heart, claiming more than just a part of it.
“What does this girl have to do with either of you?” Clarissa asks, twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger, looking bored.
“Well, nothing,” Anastasia says, “but she was the center of attention. She screwed everything up for us.”
I’m surprised Finch hasn’t hooked up with Natasha. In fact, I’m also shocked she would like him at all. He’s ruggedly good-looking and muscular in every place it counts. But he’s not rich like some of his friends. The only men Anastasia and Natasha date are rich and richer, which is why I wasn’t shocked when they told me about their sexcapades with Sebastian Prince earlier.
My stepsisters are the type of girls who become trophy wives and use college as an excuse to party and find their husbands before they settle down. School is not about an education for either of them, where for me, it’s my sanctuary. Strickland University is my only escape from reality. Even reading is not enough to distract me.
“If he doesn’t pay attention to you, my beautiful daughter, then he is not worthy of your time.” Clarissa flashes one of her fake-as-fuck smiles. “Time to move on. There are plenty of men out there.”
For once, I got something Natasha wanted. I was already on cloud nine about Finch, but knowing that everyone at the party was talking about me gives me even more satisfaction. My stepsisters cannot know I was the girl. They would make every day I have left until graduation hell.
“Some of the guys at the party were looking for the girl. She left something behind.”