Nice. Have a great life. What in the fuck? And she’s gone. Just like that. That’s complete and total bullshit. I propel off the bed and march to the shower. She can kiss my ass. I step into the scalding hot water and watch as the faint tinge of blood washes down the drain.
Chapter Six
Daisy
If anyone tells you spending four hours at brunch, writing down presents, and who they came from, is a fun way to spend a Sunday morning and now afternoon, they’re lying to you. Especially if you have a hangover. At least they have a mimosa fountain.
“Did you get that one down?” Julia glances at me and lays the bamboo cutting board with the elegant monogram of their initials on the center onto the table amongst the other gifts.
“Yes, I have it down.” I drop the pen to the table and sip. Okay. I guzzle the cocktail to alleviate the cotton in my mouth. At this point, I need whatever I can get to survive. When Zoe returns from her trip, I’m giving her shit for leaving me alone to endure this fun.
Her eyes narrow. “Did you get it was from Mariah and David and not Marissa and David? If you don’t get the names correct, I’ll send the thank you card to the wrong person.”
“Ye-e-es.” What in the fuck do you think? I’m stupid? I smile until my cheeks crack. I’m not lying. They feel like they’re breaking because I have on so much makeup. I look like a clown.
“Good.” She nods and dismisses me by returning to the next package.
The circles under my eyes scared me as much as my bruised lips did. I shiver and block out visions from last night. While it was delicious and downright dirty, that’s not me. I’m not the drunk girl that goes home with strangers. I’m the good girl with the 4.0-grade point average. I’m perfect in everything but calculus.
In my sophomore year, I took the class and couldn’t grasp the concepts, almost losing my scholarship. I dropped it just in time. The only other class I need is biochemistry. Ugg. This semester is going to be a drag.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as fear makes a giant knot in my stomach. I’ve waited until the last minute to try it again. I graduated with a social work degree in May, but my parents don’t know about that. Now, I’m stuck with passing these last two classes, or I won’t get into medical school in January.
When she opens a painting of a unicorn in a field of wildflowers, she slaps on a smile. “Thank you, grandma and grandpa, for the painting.”
“You’re welcome, dear.” My grandmother beams. “Your mom said you needed decorations for your new home, and I remembered how much you loved unicorns.”
Yeah, her sophomore year of high school. I snort, and heat fills my face. Heather turns and glares. I smile and push my drink back. Alcohol and I don’t mix. I should have learned that lesson last night. If I don’t stop now, I might end up grinding on the waiter. He’s cute but scrawny. I like my men to be tall, dark, and handsome.
I giggle and hiccup. Shit.
“Daisy Rowan Adler, what is wrong with you?” My mom pins me with an evil look that could kill lesser mortals.
“I’m sorry, mother. I thought of a funny television show I watched last night.”
“Well, don’t.” Her jaw flexes as she returns her attention to my sister.
***
The rest of the day follows a similar pattern until my father clasps my shoulder. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, dad.”
He frowns. “Where did you go last night?”
“I…” I clear my throat. “I went home and watched a movie.” That’s the safest answer. There’s no way he’d approve of what I did.
“Are you prepared for school to start next week? You need to be on your A-game for this last semester. I’ve put my neck on the line to get you into medical school. Don’t let me down.” He squeezes tighter as nausea rolls in my stomach.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Or as ready as I’ll ever be.
“You’d better be. This is everything we’ve worked for since you were a kid, and you’re already behind the eight ball by pushing everything back six months.”
“I know.” Since Julia decided she wanted to be an attorney, I’ve been my father’s prodigy. His last choice without a son to follow in his footsteps and take over his office once he retires.
My father is a top plastic surgeon in the city and the Midwest. When he started out, he focused on restoring normal appearance and function after patients suffered life-altering incidents, but now, he’s more into the cosmetic side.
I rub my temples. I’ve got to ask for more hours at the café because if I don’t pass these classes and get into medical school, I’m going to need money. My parents have been paying for my rent, but that will go away the second I fall on my face or do anything my father doesn’t approve of.