However, my high hopes for a better day are dashed the minute I step outside.
With another plate of eggs still warm in my belly, I wander onto the porch to catch a ride with Jace. Just like yesterday, he barely spoke two words to anyone. Simply took his coffee in the yard and sat in the shade with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Lips, might I add, that sit on his face in a plump little bow thatmorphs into a scowl every time he sees me coming. He wears his hateful expression like a badge of armor, but every so often, I catch something slipping through his gaze. Heat, not hate. I swear, it almost seems like he gets off on the torture.
Yet he's nowhere to be found when I step into the morning sun. “Jace?” I crane my neck, searching the surrounding area. The truck remains where he parked it last night, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. I turn to go back into the house when it hits me.
Water.
A frigid blast straight from the hose, drenching the outfit I painstakingly put together. I stand frozen in shock, holding my arms out at my sides, watching the droplets fall from the ends of my hair and slide down my legs.
When my gaze rises, I come face-to-face with the gorgeous sneer of Jace Wilder. “What the hell!”
His laughter echoes through the open air, a deep throaty baritone that rumbles in his chest as he drops the hose. “Those ain’t tears I see on your face, are they?”
My eyes go wide. “Are youtryingto make me cry?”
“All’s fair in love and war, princess.” He lifts the pack of Marlboros to his mouth and pulls one out with his teeth. He pauses to light the end, then blows a stream of smoke into the air. “You might want to consider putting on somethin’ dry.”
I pull back the emotion brewing in my eyes. He plays dirty, but I won’t let him win, and I can give as good as I get. “Wait right here,” I say as I start back toward the house.
But he grabs my arm as I saunter past. “If you think I’m gonna be waitin’ around for you, you’ve got another thing comin’.”
I cock my head. “Then how am I gonna get to school?”
Jace points at a rusted ten-speed leaning up against the house. “Hope you know how to ride a bike.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before strutting away.
He can’t be serious.
I throw my hands up. “Unbelievable.” Turning toward the house, I run back inside and into my room. I hear Cindy call my name, but I close the door and hide in the closet, letting my emotions get the best of me. Fury leaks from my eyes as I hide behind the slatted door, soaked and ashamed. How could my mother do this to me? How could she be so fucking selfish and leave me here bleeding from the broken shards of a life she destroyed?
I’ve tried so hard to be strong. I tried to live by her credo and do right by her name, but I’m not like her. I’m not hard or determined. I’ve been sheltered and loved, and I’m so damn mad at her for not preparing me better for the real world. I always thought it was a beautiful place full of possibilities, but it’s not. It’s cold and cruel, and I feel so misled by everything I’ve been taught.
A knock on the door stifles my self-loathing. Cindy’s voice comes through muffled and quiet. “Ellie? You alright?”
I suck back my sobs and clear them from my throat. “Yes. I just had to change real quick. I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Okay, hun.”
Blowing out a hard breath, I step into the room and swap out my saturated clothes for dry ones. I don’t have the time to blow my hair straight. Instead, I tousle it between my fingers with mousse and let the waves fall where they may. A little chaos in my orderly world. Feeling as if the worst is behind me, I swallow my pride and get on my new old bike.
I may not be as strong as my mother, but I will damn well learn to be or die trying.
By the time I get to the lot, my hair is dry from the heat, and my heart is pumping like a freight train. Thank God for all those spinning classes, or I would be in serious pain right now.
I ditch the bike by the rack and run into the quiet hall. A few minutes late means a lot when you’re a social pariah. The thought of walking into class alone weighs on my chest, but I put one foot in front of the other and keep moving until I breeze into Mr. Brenner’s class.
I stroll in with zero fucks. “Sorry I’m late,” I say as flippant as I can.
“I’ll let it slide today, but be on time tomorrow.”
Hushed giggles wave through the room as I slip between desks to get to the back.
“Hey,” Darla whispers the moment Mr. Brenner’s back is turned. “What happened to your high heels, Barbie?”
I ignore her question and start taking notes, but she continues.
“I thought only prudes wore heels.”
With a narrowed gaze, I offer up my sweetest smile. “And I thought only bitches used the word prude.”