The twins exchange a look. “We told them we were all hanging out here,” one of them admits. Odis looks like he wants to smack them both upside the head. It makes sense. I heard the breakup between him and the absolute bitch sashaying her way across the patio was as ugly as her black, rotted soul.
Everything comes back all at once. I don’t smell chlorine anymore. Now, I’m in the girls’ bathroom at school, cornered by the sinks with no way to escape. I’m in the cafeteria, getting fries and dirty napkins thrown at me as I walk past her table with my tray in my shaking hands. I’m getting shoved against the lockers as she and her coven of bitches walk past.
Those bitches are with her now. Of course, they are. They always travel in a pack, and she’s always walking in front.
Now, she stops, ignoring the way the guys roll their eyes and glare at her. “Wait. Are you kidding me? What’s she doing here?” The way she sounds, she could be talking about a rodent.
“Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.” Denver looks like he could spit nails as he gets out of the pool and walks over to where she’s standing in front of me. “You weren’t invited.”
“What, and she was?” She looks me up and down with a smirk.
“She actually belongs here,” Odis calls out.
“Why? Did you hire her as your maid or something?” Her laughter is cold as she swings her ridiculously blonde hair over her shoulder. No way the color is natural, just like everything else that’s fake about her.
I want to tell her to fuck off—no, I need to. For the first time since the engagement was announced, I want to shout it from the rooftops that my mom’s marrying their dad, and yes, I belong here in a way she never will.
Instead, it’s Denver who answers. “After next weekend, she’ll be our stepsister.”
All of this is worth it just to watch her mouth fall open. The two sniveling little bitches behind her do the same. “Wait. What?” Her head snaps around, and she lifts her sunglasses, narrowing her eyes at me. “Your mom is marrying their dad?”
“Yeah. One big happy family.” Odis says, only it doesn’t sound like he believes that right now. He sounds murderous. I wouldn’t want him sounding that way when he talks to me.
I wait to see what she’ll do, and she doesn’t disappoint. Her laughter is vicious, sending a cold chill down my spine. I would know that laugh anywhere. It’s burned in my memory. “I guess it makes sense for your mom to be as trashy as you.”
“Watch it.” Denver folds his arms across his chest, positioning himself between us. I haven’t moved from my chair and don’t intend to. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
Her expression softens. “Come on,” she coos. “You don’t see what a gold digger she is? They both are. Trash like them don’t belong with people like us. It’s pathetic. They have to learn their place.”
I’m going to bite my tongue off if this keeps going on. Don’t give her the satisfaction.Don’t stoop to her level.
“Did you hear me?” She cranes her neck to look around Denver. “Your mom is a gold-digging whore with trash for a daughter.”
“Would you shut the fuck up already?” Odis snarls.
“Yeah, shut up,” one of the twins agrees. “You’re acting like a bitch.”
Yes, and it’s making her crazy that she can’t get a reaction out of me. Her face twists into an ugly expression while I wonder if I’m hearing things. Did the guys just stick up for me? Nobody has ever done that, especially not when Chelsey was involved. Even the other girls look surprised, and one of them might even be a little embarrassed.
Not Chelsey, though. “I’m getting a drink.” She stomps off with her flip-flops slapping against the patio like gunshots. The girls hurry after her, because of course, they would, but not before one of them shoots me a grimace. I really don’t care. If she feels sorry, she should say something—and maybe start rethinking who she spends her time with.
Denver turns to me, and his expression is dark, angry. “Don’t listen to her.” He then turns and dives back into the deep end.
“Yeah, she needs to go,” Odis agrees. He’s staring daggers at the house where Chelsey and her pack have disappeared. I would remind them they live here, that this is their house, and they should throw her out if that’s how they feel, but I know I’d stutter if I tried to talk, and I won’t let them hear me do that. I only lie back again, trembling inside. They can’t hurt you. Nobody can hurt you with words. I wish I believed that.
Chelsey’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice rings out again, and I tense up all over. “It’s so hot out here, I thought we could all use a drink.” She saunters out with a pitcher of something red. Kool-Aid, maybe. I close my eyes and decide to pretend she’s not here.
“I’m not thirsty.” That’s Odis, speaking in a flat voice that sounds more dangerous than ever.
“You say that now.” She giggles. I hear her flip-flops coming closer. “But you don’t want to get dehydrated in this heat.”
That’s when it happens. What I should’ve known would happen.
One second, I’m lying in the sun.
The next, a pitcher of ice-cold Kool-Aid pours over me like a red waterfall. The icy liquid hits my heated skin, shocking my system and drawing a scream from my lungs. I sit up, stunned, as Chelsey jumps back with a high-pitched, “Whoops!”