by Mia Belle
“I didn’t do any of this,” I try to explain.
Eric slings his arm over VP Henson’s shoulder, turning her away from me and leading her toward her office. He says something in his soothing, sultry voice, working his magic on her.
The bell rings and the students flock to their classes. I lug the nearby garbage bin and dump the pigs inside.
I’ll be late to class, but does that even matter?
Chapter Four
Ryder
Friday evening, Mom, Dad, and I are seated at the dining room table as servants flounce around us like we’re royalty. I guess in their eyes, we are.
Dad’s on the phone, like usual. Mom’s dog, Prissy, lounges on her lap as my mom brushes her fur. The dog seems to be enjoying her massage a bit too much. Sometimes—no, usually—it seems like I’m the dog and Prissy is Mom’s kid.
Whatever.
“Yes, of course,” Dad’s saying. He lowers his phone to his chest and whispers to Mom, “The Smithsons are requesting our presence at their son’s wedding.”
Mom shakes her head firmly, continuing to pet her daughter’s fur.
“No, Albert,” Dad says. “Unfortunately Gwendlyn and I cannot make it to the wedding. Please accept our gift and please give our warmest wishes to the bride and groom.” He says some more bullshit before clicking off and tossing his phone to one of the nearby servants, who nearly misses. I can see the sweat pouring down his face at the thought of almost losing his job over a cheap phone. Well, maybe it’s not cheap to him.
Mom and Dad discuss their plans for this weekend. When they mention Avery’s dad, my head jerks up. Again? How many damn business trips do those two need to go on? And how much longer do I need to play the bullshit role of her boyfriend?
Our parents made some sort of agreement when we were born. That we’d marry and combine our businesses into one massive empire. Did they ask my permission? Of course not. Do I want to marry that snake? Hell no. Do they care? Nope.
They’re leaving tonight and won’t return until Sunday evening. That gives me the entire weekend to myself, not that this is new. They’re gone almost every weekend. I can’t remember when was the last time they stayed for more than two days at a time. And forget about holidays. They’d send some expensive gift along with a card and assume that would be enough for me. They dumped me with nannies and servants my entire life. Some childhood.
“Ryder, remember what you and I discussed last night,” Dad tells me, studying the news on his second phone instead of me.
I drop my fork with a clang. A nearby servant’s on alert in case it drops to the floor. It doesn’t, and she relaxes. “Dad, I told you I have a swim meet that day.”
He holds my gaze, then focuses back on his phone. “And I told you it’s time to take on some responsibility and not busy yourself with silly, childish, and frivolous endeavors.”
I clench my teeth. “I could get a scholarship to one of the best colleges in the world.”
His eyes spring to me. “Scholarship? I don’t want to hear that word in this house. You’ll go to my alma mater. Generations of Kensington men have been going there and you’ll do the same. You’ll take over the business and expand it as you’ve been trained since you were a young child.”
I narrow my eyes. “And if I refuse?”
Dad grips the edge of the table, his knuckles growing white.
“Gerald, is this necessary?” Mom asks in a bored tone, continuing to pet her favorite child. “He needs time to grow up.”
“He’s sixteen.”
Mom waves her hand. “I seem to recall you not wanting the family business when you were his age.”
“That’s bullshit. I wanted to take over after my father from the moment I could talk.” His eyes meet mine. “And you’ll do the same. Maybe it’s time we remove him from swimming. It’s distracting him from what’s important in life.”
“Dad.”
He nods to himself, then snaps to his assistant, Harold. “Call the coach and tell him I have decided to pull my son from swimming.”
I’m on my feet so quickly the chair crashes to the floor. The nearby servant rushes to straighten it out. “If you call the school I’ll never talk to you again. And I sure as hell won’t take over the damn family business.”
Dad’s nostrils flare.
“He’s just a boy, Gerald,” Mom says. “Let him have his fun.” She shrugs, peering down at Prissy with love. “Swimming seems important to him.”
Seems? I think back to the many times I begged my parents to come to my meets. They never did, would always give one excuse after another. While the rest of the team had their families cheering them on, there was silence for me.
Dad waves his hand dismissively to Harold, who nods quickly. “All right. I’ll let you have your swimming, son. But I expect some responsibility from you.”
I plop down on my chair, not promising anything. Dad can plan whatever he wants, but it’s my future. My choice.
I know he means well, but he doesn’t understand me. Neither of my parents do. They expect me to be perfect, always clean cut and dressed well. Do they know how stifling their lifestyle is? I want out. Good thing they’re almost gone every weekend and I can let loose and relax. Without it, I’d lose my shit.
Dad checks the time. “We should be on our way, Gwendlyn,” he says, tossing his phone to another servant. One girl rushes to Mom, handing her her purse while another drops Mom’s shoes before her.
Mom kisses Prissy a few times on each cheek before reluctantly handing her over to the servant who brought the shoes. “Mommy will miss you, sweetie pie.” She kisses her again.
Funny. She never says that to me.
Dad nods to me—his version of a goodbye—before both parents disappear behind the door. I tell the servants to prepare the house for the party, then dismiss them for the night. I know they’re glad to have a couple days of freedom.
Mom and Dad know I throw huge parties, but they don’t care, I guess. As long as we’re not seen negatively on the news, all is well and I can throw as many parties as I want.
I announce the party to the entire school and a few other schools before flopping down on the couch and watching some videos on my laptop.
As I’m watching one of my swimming meets that someone posted on YouTube, my phone pings with a text. It’s from Eric.
Can’t make it to the party.
He’s skipped out on the last few, and I figured it was because of Blake. But now I’m thinking it’s something else. I text back.
You sure? Gonna be lots of booze and girls.
I’m sure. Phoebe needs me tonight. Sorry, man.
He’s lucky he has a sister, not a dog like I have. I’m a little jealous that he’s got someone to talk to, to laugh with, have fun with. I’m all alone in this house with only the portraits to talk to.
Eric’s family has been through a lot of shit. First with his mom dying when he was six and then his brother three months ago. Somehow, he manages to keep it all together. No, that’s a lie. I thought he was keeping it together, but I’m starting to notice a change in my best friend. He’s angrier than usual, sadder, and that’s not only because his older brother died—it’s something more. I asked him a few times if he needs me to do anything, but he waved me off.
Caden doesn’t understand why Eric quit swimming. He bugs him about it every chance he gets. But I understand. Swimming was something special he shared with Blake. Now that he’s gone, swimming has died along with him.
I sit here for a few hours before kids arrive for my party. Caden waltzes in, followed by Avery and her friends. Many others barge in after them.
Avery runs into my arms. “Did you miss me?”
I peel her off, setting her down on the couch. She still thinks I’ll marry her one day. I couldn’t care less about her, the business, or anything that’s not swimming related. I’m not as good as Blake was or like Eric, which means I have to work twice as hard to reach their level. But I love it. No
one can take that away from me.
She bats her eyelashes, her bottom lip jutting out. “I missed you.”
I run my hand over my hair, messing it up a bit. “We just saw each other at school.”
Her arms come around me again. “It’s never enough.”
I shove her back. She’s been extra clingy lately. No idea why, but I don’t really care. I leave her with a cup of beer before wading through the dancing bodes until I find Caden in the backyard, staring up at the night sky.
“What’s up?” I ask, plopping down on a chair on the porch. “It’s not like you to be this antisocial at one of my parties.” He’s always so happy, carefree, and full of energy.
He peers down at his full cup of beer. “Just worried, I guess.”
“About?”
He shrugs. “Lots of things. The anniversary of my parents’ deaths is coming up and you know how my Grandpa gets.”
I nod. “He’s going hunting with his buddies again?”
“Yep. I get that he needs space, but I see how Grandma looks at him. She wishes he’d talk about it, but he never does. I don’t even like talking about it, but we need to.”
I don’t say anything and we’re quiet as we stare at the space before us.
“Where’s Eric?” Caden breaks the silence.
“Not coming. Said he had to stay home with Phoebe.”
He downs some beer. He’s not much of a drinker, but I guess the occasion calls for it. “I miss him. Miss how things used to be.”
I hold his gaze. “Things will never go back to how they used to be.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then, “Maybe if he got back into swimming—”
“Caden. Quit bugging him about it. He doesn’t want to swim.”
“I just know that if he got back into the pool—”
I stand. “He can’t get back into the pool, man. I mean, I have no idea what it’s like to lose a brother, but I can imagine. Let him deal his own way. Same way you’re dealing with the anniversary of your parents’ deaths. And all the other shit we go through in life. Eric needs time.”
Caden throws his hands up. “By the time he’ll be ready to swim it’ll be too late. Scouts already have their eye on him.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Do they? After what happened to Blake, some are a little hesitant to check him out.”
Caden scowls. “That’s bullshit. Eric’s talented. He deserves a shot at a scholarship, despite what his brother did.”
I sit back down. “Top schools look at everything. They’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
Caden’s about to say something, when my eyes wander toward the open door and I spot two girls making their way into the ballroom to dance with the other kids. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say.
He follows my gaze. “What?”
“Daphne Pickett’s here. What the hell is she doing in my house?” I’m on my feet and stalk inside.
Chapter Five
Daphne
Zoe stares at herself in the mirror in her room. Somehow she managed to convince me to go with her to Ryder’s party. He throws one practically every Friday night, and I’ve only been to a few over the two years of my high school life.
Going to a place that’s off school grounds and where the entire student body can tear me to shreds isn’t a good idea, but I’ve decided to go for two reasons: one, I can never say no to my best friend. Two, I won’t let these jerks push me around. If the party is open to every student at Leighton High, then that includes me. I deserve to be there.
Zoe studies me through the reflection in her mirror. “Someone’s deep in thought. What planet or world did you visit and was a hot guy there?”
I roll my eyes. I’m into guys as much as the next person, but Zoe is obsessed. Obsessed. And the fact that she goes to an all-girls school doesn’t help.
“You’re hopeless,” I tell her.
She flops down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know.” She lifts herself on one elbow. “We’re telling my mom we’re going to your house.”
“What? She doesn’t let you go to this party? She never had a problem last year, even though all parents know Ryder’s parties are epic and there’s alcohol.”
She twists her nose. “Yeah, my mom used to be kind of cool, except when she gets all momma bear. Now after everything that happened with Jackson and Blake, she hardly lets me leave the house.” She grabs my hands. “Save me, Daphne. She’s turning me into one of those anti-men women and I’ll die lonely with a million cats.”
I pull out of her hold. “Have you tried telling her how you feel?”
She sighs heavily. “No. She’s not like your mom. Your mom listens and tries to understand. She wants you to be happy. Mine? She doesn’t care if I’m happy as long as I’m safe.”
“You know that’s not true.”
Zoe gets to her feet and stands before the mirror again, adjusting her curls that seem to want to spring up. “Damn. Nothing I do works on this hair.”
“You look fine, Zoe.”
She groans. “Whatever. Let’s go before my mom comes up with another reason to lock me in the house.”
We leave the room and climb down the stairs. Zoe’s parents are seated around their small kitchen table, talking. Their voices are a little rough, hard.
“See?” she whispers to me. “There’s no love between them anymore. It’s like it was swallowed up in a black hole. They’re not all lovey-dovey like your parents.”
I watch them for a little while. I know most parents don’t have the relationship my parents have. I’ve always wanted something like that. To have a guy look at me like I’m his world. I don’t know, maybe that’s too rare.
Zoe’s parents’ words shift into an increasing argument. Soon, they’re shouting at one another.
Zoe groans loudly. “You know we can hear you?”
Her parents stop and turn to us. Zoe marches into the room. “Going to Daphne’s. At least it’s quiet there and we can study.”
“What time will you be home?” her mom asks, not because she wants to know—she’s making sure Zoe knows the answer to that.
My best friend rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. Can I sleep over?”
Her mother thinks for a second. “Okay, but call me before you to go bed.”
Zoe’s jaw clenches, and I know she’s trying hard to contain her frustration. Grabbing my hand, she hauls me toward the door.
“I’m moving in with you,” she tells me. “Then I won’t have to sneak around and lie to my parents.”
I turn back to look at them as she pulls me away. “She just cares about you.”
We’re outside and Zoe slams the door. “I wish she didn’t,” she says as we make our way to her car. “I mean, is it my fault my sister died? Why do I have to suffer for it? Whatever, I’m so done with this conversation.”
We fold ourselves into the car and Zoe drives toward Ryder’s mansion. It’s in the center of town, like a beacon. Or like it’s obnoxiously telling the rest of us that the Kensington’s have what we lack. It’s impossible not to see the building as we drive through town. Okay, the Kensingtons founded the town, and they’ve donated money to every event, charity, function, festival, but so what? What’s the point of all that if their precious heir is one big jerk? I still shiver—in a bad way—when I think about Ryder’s finger stroking my jaw.
“Damn, Daph,” Zoe says as she checks her makeup at a red light. “You seriously are distracted lately.”
I force my shoulders to shrug. “Just have a lot on my mind. Junior year is tough.”
“Not as tough as my stupid school, but I’m not thinking about that now. I’m going to a party to have fun with my old friends and classmates.”
Zoe wasn’t popular, but she had a circle of friends. They hung out with me by association, and I guess we got along well. When Zoe told me she was switching schools, I figured our other friends and me would grow closer. Considering how they stay away from me li
ke the plague, it’s obvious those girls were never truly my friends.
“And she does it again,” Zoe interrupts my thoughts. “And you know, it’s not just the spacing out. It’s like something’s bothering you.”
Shutting my eyes, I lean my head against my seat. “You’re right. Something is, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
Shaking her head, Zoe pulls up to the curb and kills the engine. “I knew it. It’s a guy, isn’t it? Who do you have a crush on this time?”
I give her a look. “Of course you think this is about a guy. No, it’s…it’s my mom.”
Her expression changes. “Your mom?”
“It’s been going on for years, and I never really cared about it. But it’s bugging me now.” I sigh. “They laugh at her. Whisper behind her back. And she won’t let me stand up for her.”
She lifts a brow. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Her weight.” I groan. “I’m not going to lie that it doesn’t bother me, because the truth is it does. And the last thing I want to do is hurt her. She’s such a great person and mom.”
Zoe’s eyes overflow with sympathy as she wraps an arm around me. “I’ve noticed the kids laughing at her, but they’re just stupid kids. Your mom is an amazing person, and she passed that awesomeness to you. And yeah, I think it’s natural for you to be a little bothered about her weight.”
I cover my face. “I just don’t want to…look like her one day.” I lower my hands. “Am I a jerk for feeling this way?”
She squeezes my shoulder. “No, of course not.”
“She’s happy,” I continue. “Why can’t I be happy, too?”
She searches my eyes. “You’re not happy?”
I release myself from her hold. “I am. I mean, I’m just worried I’ll gain weight. I want to be like my mom, but I don’t want to look like her. God, I’m a terrible person.”
She hugs me again. “You’re not. All kids our age worry about our weight. You’re being too hard on yourself. Besides, I’d love you even if you were the fattest person in the world. And a guy would love you, too.”
