“Fuck off,” I groan. “I’m not going to sleep with you too.”
He just shrugs and feigns innocence, but I know exactly what he was thinking. Score us both and score major points with the boys.
“Maybe ask your mom about me. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
He shoulders past me, and as he does, pinches me hard on the ass.
“Ow!” I yelp. I whirl around to hit him, but he’s already off the steps and striding quickly toward his car.
“Have a good one!” he calls back as he hops in and peels off into the rain.
I’m either going to explode or flat-out die as I walk into the house, dripping cold water all over the floor. My mom, however, is lounging on the coach by the fire, sipping champagne and basking in the warmth like a content cat.
“Oh hi, honey,” she says, her eyes closed. “I hope Jeff didn’t bother you on the way out.”
“Of course not,” I reply sarcastically. “Jeff was quite a gentleman.”
“Unlike some men.”
As I pull off my soaked shoes, I glance up at her. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t act innocent.” She opens her eyes to me, and the chill inside me intensifies. It’s like I’m suddenly not looking at my mother; it’s like I’m looking at a monster. “I know you’re fucking him.”
“I—”
Her words hit me in the chest like a bowling ball, snatching the breath from my lungs. I can’t even attempt to feign ignorance. She caught me completely off guard and the truth is written all over my face.
“You disgusting little slut,” she replies, shaking her head. My mom has said a lot of terrible things to me throughout my life, but never like this. Her tone…it’s like she’s done with me. Completely done with me. There’s no anger. She’s not hurt. She’s just done. I’m nothing to her.
“Mom…”
“You sit here and judge me for my infidelity, and then go off and fuck your fucking stepfather!? What did he do? Romance you? Promise you he’d marry you and give you all his money? Take you out to a fancy dinner and buy you a bunch of fucking diamonds or something?”
I’m sobbing, but manage to choke up a laugh.
“If only you knew…”
“Well, I don’t have to know shit,” she says, rising from the couch. She goes to the kitchen and pours herself another glass of champagne. “Because he’s going to prison for a long time.”
“Wait, what!?” I blurt out. “You know about the police?”
Shaking her head, my mom makes her way back to her spot on the couch and lies back. It’s as if she’s now the owner of the place. The queen. In her mind, Baron is already out of the picture.
I know before she even says it and my heart sinks into my feet.
“Honey”—she smiles—“who do you think it was that called them?”
14
Pixie
I’m crying outside in the rain when he pulls up.
Harry. Backwards hat and wife-beater on, looking like his dad just told him he was getting ten grand as a graduation present. He stops his car less than a foot from me and rolls down the window.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I don’t even bother responding. What’s the point? Today couldn’t get any worse, and I’m not going to suddenly turn him into a good guy by cursing him out. “It’s raining, you know. Why don’t I take you for a ride? My car’s nice and warm.”
Again, I give him nothing.