“Going somewhere?” she asks, looking at my bag.
“Yeah. Lauren asked me to stay the night with her tonight.”
She reaches up and grabs her pearls that hang around her neck, usually a clear sign that she’s going to turn me down. I used Lauren as my excuse when I passed out at Deke’s Tuesday night. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t ground me over it.
“She had a bad day,” I add. “You know? With her parents and all …”
“Ahh. I see.” She glances around the room. It’s spotless. I have a thing about tidiness when it comes to my personal space. The rest of the house I couldn’t care less about. “Is your homework done?”
I hold in a sigh. “Yes.” From a young age, my mother drilled into me that education is important—make good grades and make something of yourself—but she never once said that to Becky. It was like Becky was destined to marry royalty, and if I didn’t get into college, I’d be scrubbing toilets. And I find nothing wrong with that profession.
“May I go?” I ask, trying not to show my anger. I hate that Becky gets to come and go as she pleases, yet I have to ask. I still have three months before I turn eighteen, but that won’t matter. As long as I’m in school, I’ll have to do what she says.
“I suppose.” She sighs before leaving the next second. No goodbye. No I love you. Nothing. And I’m totally fine with it. I’m used to not being shown any kind of affection.
________________
An hour later, I’m pulling up to the cabin and see his Jeep is already here. I grab my bag and get out.
Walking in, I find him sitting on the brown leather couch. He looks away from the TV, noticing me, but doesn’t smile, which is unusual. Seth is always in a good mood.
“What are you doing here tonight?” I ask him. He hates this place. Says it’s too low class. It belonged to his grandmother or some shit, so his parents kept it but never use it. His mom and stepdad are filthy rich. They’ve got a house on the lake and several homes all over the world. They even have a yacht in the marina where they sometimes stay.
“Felt like getting away,” he answers, looking back at the TV.
I can understand that. I plop down beside him and cross my legs, trying to put Deke out of my mind. I haven’t heard one word from him, but why would I? He got what he wanted. Sex. I hate that I crave it again. It hurt just as much this past Tuesday as it did the first time, but it was still amazing. The way he held me and kissed me. My skin tingled for days after. And last night, I craved it so much, I took care of myself thinking of him. “What are we watching?” I try to focus on Seth.
“Friends.”
Of course. Pretty sure he’s seen every episode more than twice.
He leans forward, picking up a green cup, and hands it to me. “I made you your drink.” I don’t take it, and he sighs. “Demi …”
“You know I can’t drink that,” I say softly. Ever since Becky drugged me, I have this thing about drinking from a cup that I didn’t make. My father warned us about it back in middle school, but I never thought my own sister would betray me in that way.
“Fine.” He places it back on the coffee table.
“You can have it,” I offer.
“I’m not in the mood to drink.” He gives a clipped answer.
I frown. Seth is always up to party. “Is something going on with Hayden?”
He doesn’t respond, but I notice the tic in his jaw, so I drop it.
“What movie are we gonna watch?”
Again, he doesn’t answer, and it sends up red flags. I sit back and watch him. His right knee bounces up and down nervously. He pulls his bottom lip in and chews on it. His breathing has picked up.
“Seth …” I place my hand on his shoulder, and he jumps. “What’s going on?” I demand, starting to get worried. He’s never like this.
He picks up the remote and holds it out in front of him as a long silence fills the room. When he finally speaks, his voice wavers. “You let Deke fuck you, right?”
I stiffen. Why does he care? And more importantly, why is he asking a question he already knows the answer to. He knew what my plan was the night of my Halloween party because he helped set it up. But he only knows about that first night. I haven’t filled him in on the fact that Deke was in my bedroom Monday night when he dropped me off at home, or that he fucked me three times Tuesday night. “Yes,” I respond slowly.