D.O.R.K. Series Box Set

by Haley Allison

  I don’t believe my ears. She sings just as well as me, if not better. I turn my head periodically to watch her, amazed that we both inherited Dad’s talent. I’m even more amazed she hasn’t said or done anything about her music talent until just now.

  After the song is done, I can’t help but comment on what I just heard. “Raven, that was amazing. Why didn’t you tell Dad and me you could sing like that?”

  She shrugs, her sour attitude returning. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

  I scoff. “Good singing ‘not relevant’? To Mike and Madison Daley?”

  “I don’t plan to pursue music any time soon, so I didn’t see a point in telling you,” she explains, taking out her phone and looking at a social media app as we continue down the road.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, if you ever did pursue music, you’d be pretty good at it.”

  I hear a slight smile in her voice. “Thanks.” She gets absorbed in her phone for a few minutes, but then she breaks the silence again. “Do you think W3 would perform at our party?”

  I smile with amusement. “They would, but I don’t think I want my dad policing my eighteenth birthday party. The last thing we need is an excuse for Mr. Overprotective to stick around.”

  “Good point.” Raven flips her hair back. “Are there any specific foods you want catered?”

  “Nah, surprise me.”

  “Well, that was uncharacteristically agreeable of you.”

  I turn to look at her briefly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, come on. You know you’ve been a little difficult lately,” Raven accuses.

  Me? Difficult? I guess her definition of difficult must be anyone who doesn’t bend over backwards just to fulfill her every whim. I really want to laugh in her face right now, but I don’t. Instead, I just shrug and utter a sentence I know is going to piss her off.

  “Somebody has to make sure you don’t spiral out of control.”

  “Excuse me?” Her defense mode activates immediately. I don’t even have to look—I can feel her scowl. “Are you suggesting I’m spiraling?”

  “Well, you certainly don’t seem very stable lately,” I say. “It’s understandable. The only parent you knew for your whole life has cancer. I’d probably be freaking out too.”

  “I am not ‘freaking out.’ I’m fine. Everything is under control when it comes to Mother and me.” You just keep telling yourself that, I think.

  “It’s the truth!” She balls her fists in her lap. I instinctively know she’s trying to convince herself right now instead of me.

  “Okay, okay, Raven. I’m sure you’re fine. And surely if there’s anyone who can survive this cancer, it’s Jess. She has the best doctors, the best resources, and a hell of a lot of fight in her. It’ll be okay.” I hope.

  Raven nods and flashes me a smile light with relief. She doesn’t say anything else, but I know my words have appeased her.

  I pull into the Redingers’ driveway and Raven invites me inside to see Jess. Not wanting to be rude, I agree to come in and see her for just a few minutes before going back home. I’m let up the stairs in the entry hall to Jess’s bedroom, which is just as rich and luxurious as I was expecting it to be. A red canopy is hung from the ceiling over the bed. Priceless paintings adorn each of her walls. Her bed set looks so warm and inviting I’m tempted to crawl into it myself, and then I see her bandaged-up head.

  Poor, miserable Jess.

  You can tell the surgery took a lot out of her. The bags under her eyes are even darker than before, and her face looks pale and wan. Her face is swollen from chemo, yet it doesn’t quite hide her frail state. One look at my paper-thin mother is enough to convince anyone this is one thing she didn’t have to fake. She attempts a smile at the sight of me. I walk up beside her bed and lay my hand on her forearm.

  “Hey, Jess. I was dropping off Raven and thought I’d say ‘hi’ before I left.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Jess rasps. “You saved us today. I owe you a favor.”

  A part of me still feels like she owes me a lot more than a simple favor, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to try to get something out of her. She’s in pain. She’s terribly ill. No matter what she’s done to me in the past, I can’t hate her or use her right now.

  “I’ll cash that in later,” I assure her. “How are you feeling?”

  Her lips twitch. “About as good as can be expected,” she answers honestly. “The good news is, they got the tumor out. The bad news is they found more in another part of my brain. It’s possible it may have spread to other places too.”

  “Oh, God…I’m so sorry.” My stomach churns at the thought of going through round after round of treatment and surgery just to be told you’re nowhere near done getting rid of it yet, and it’s spreading. Jess shrugs her bony shoulders. “I don’t think the reality has fully set in for me. When it does, I might be frightened, but right now I feel unfazed.”

  I glance at her nightstand and see a cluster of prescription bottles. “Pain meds are a great thing, right?”

  She chuckles with a sad note in her voice. “Yes, they are. Not only do they make my recovery bearable, but they help me forget too. I’m not taking the ones I got addicted to last time. These are a different type, but they work just as well.” Deep down inside, I couldn’t really blame her right now even if she did go back to her old pill-popping ways. Her attitude is surprisingly upbeat for a person who could be on their deathbed soon. It seems like my coming here today may have cheered her up a bit. She’s looking at me with a gentle smile on her face, scanning me up and down as if to memorize my features. Things are still very awkward between us, but they’re going better than I ever expected.

  “Madison, are you still angry with me?”

  The question catches me off guard. I take a seat in a nearby chair by her bed to evaluate my emotions. Am I angry with Jess? Deep in my core, I might still resent her a little bit, but it’s not the all-consuming anger I had when I first met her. If she had mistreated me over the past few months, I’d probably hate her, but now the only strong feeling I have toward her is sympathy. I’ve seen firsthand how empty her family life is. She doesn’t seem to have many friends coming and going, and she was screwed from the beginning with Grandmum and Granddad. Now she seems to be paying for both their misdeeds and her own.

  “No, Jess, I’m not mad. I may not like what happened in the past, but I was taught to forgive. You’ve been really nice to me over the past few months. I appreciate the help with learning how to survive in this crazy place.”

  Jess chuckles and it ends in a ragged, chesty cough. “It is a bit crazy, isn’t it? I have to admit, I was trying to get on your good side. Raven doesn’t want much to do with me anymore. Having two daughters that hate me was almost more than I could bear.” She inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t blame her for distancing herself. I wasn’t the best mother to her, either. If I survive this illness, I don’t want to live the way I’ve been living. I guess I just realized how short life can be, a little too late.”

  “How do you want to live? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  Her eyes soften with warmth. “Well, dear…this might sound strange, but I think I’d like to live like you.”

  My eyeballs bulge out of their sockets. “Me? Why would you ever want to be like me? I’m a mess.”

  “Exactly,” she says with a chuckle. “You’re not afraid to make mistakes. You’re also not afraid to get close to people. If Mum had left me as a child, I’d probably want nothing to do with her ever again, but you…” She takes a heaving breath. “You’ve given me a chance. There’s no way I can express to you how much that means to me.”

  “Wow…well I’m flattered. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her eyelids flutter shut and she sinks back into her raised pillows. I stand up to adjust her pillows under her head for her. Jess catches one of my hands as I draw it back and opens her eyes again to smile at me.

  “Thank you,
love,” she whispers. “Will you visit me again?”

  I nod. “Sure. Get some rest.”

  She squeezes my hand and releases it. I pull the curtains closed for her and tiptoe out of the room.

  October 14

  The Tables Have Turned

  Back when I was about ten years old, I watched my very first Jacie Redinger film. I immediately fell in love with the mysterious, beautiful young woman who showed me it was okay to have dark hair and pale skin. Before, I always compared myself to Ana’s gorgeous tanned, blonde looks and found myself inferior. Jess’s complexion and acting skills were what drew me to her, and then thinking she was incredible for donating money to charity solidified her as my idol. I wanted to be like JR when I grew up—not an actress, of course, but she was a model for the type of success I wanted to attain with my own dreams.

  Now, seven years later, after finding out the person I idolized for nearly half my life was the mother who gave me up, I just heard her say the words:

  “I’d like to live like you.”

  Jacie/Jess Redinger is not the supreme individual I once thought her. If she was anything like Raven as a teenager, I imagine she was quite cruel and vindictive and never gave thought to anyone but herself. Now in the wake of learning she has cancer and it’s spreading, Jess has started to give thought to how she’s been living her life, and she doesn’t like it. She says she wants to change, and in a surprising turn of events, I’ve become the model for what she wants to change into.

  Um… What?

  I never thought anyone would look up to me or want to be like me, much less my own mother and the person I used to think could do no wrong. I guess it’s flattering, but at the same time I’m left wondering what she sees in me that I’m not seeing. Last time I checked, I was the girl going behind her twin sister’s back to date the guy she specifically asked her not to. I’m not exactly a model human being.

  Then again, she doesn’t know that juicy little tidbit…

  I have to admit, going out with Gio makes me feel deliciously bad. It’s just enough rebellion to prove I’m not a prude, but I don’t feel like I deserve to rot in hell for it, either. If Raven had really loved Gio, I might feel guilty, but my going out with him shouldn’t hurt her at all if their relationship was fake. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. That’s what I’m sticking with. Every time she shoots a biting comment at me, I chuckle on the inside and think, “Gio Abate’s my boyfriend, and you have no idea.”

  Add that to the long list of strange mistakes I have going for me right now and you have a butt ton of reasons not to aspire to be like me. I hope Jess knows what she’s getting into. Then again, when it comes to modeling your life after someone, I guess she could do worse. My guess is that her first example for how to live her life was Grandmum. I’m at least a step up from that, right?

  Whatever the case, it’s flattering. Yet another thing to add to my repertoire of situations I never thought I’d find myself in.

  Ttyl,

  Mads

  Gio slips his hand underneath the table to brush his knuckles against my tights-clad leg. I smile and shake my head at him as an adorable naughty grin grows on his face.

  “Stop,” I mouth. I try to listen to Ms. Dawson ramble about some formula that means absolutely nothing to me, but the truth is I’d rather be discussing these formulas on Gio’s comforter with his arms wrapped around me from behind and his warm lips buried in my neck behind my ear. Gio’s going to take the day off from going to Santa Monica so he can spend some extra time with me. I can’t wait to get back to his house and snuggle with him instead of sitting in these rigid chairs together.

  Gio obeys my silent command, but we continue to steal secretive glances at each other all throughout the class. He puckers his lips to blow me a kiss when we have to part ways outside the classroom, and I return his invisible, intangible kiss. Since it’s Friday afternoon, we’ll have plenty of time to hang out tonight after homework is done. I try to be patient because of that knowledge. I still wish I could capture him in the hall outside our lockers and pummel his lips with my own, but having him in the privacy of his house on a regular basis is definitely not something to complain about.

  Dad and Cass are starting to get suspicious, but

  I’ve still managed to avoid being spotted by them when I’m scaling the wall. I’m getting pretty good at climbing over that thing. A few good trees would make it a piece of cake. I have some scrapes on my legs now from it, but nothing that would immediately damn me if Dad noticed. I could just tell him P.E. has been putting me through the wringer—which, truthfully, it has. Dad and Cass think I have a special studying spot outside the mansion that I go to. I let them keep on thinking that. With all the chairs and tables we have outside, it makes total sense. Three hours later, I’m on my way home and happily blasting my Sirius XM Octane channel. The new hard rock and metal songs have been pretty good lately. They get me pumped up and energized to scale walls and conquer Physics problems.

  After a quick change of clothes, a snack, and making up an excuse to Dad about needing some fresh air, I hurriedly grab my book bag and go to my special place on the wall where I usually climb over.

  It’s way back in the corner between our two properties where the paparazzi are unlikely to spot me. There haven’t been as many of them around as there were at the beginning of the fall, but there are still some stragglers that hang around.

  This time when I get to the top of the wall, my foot gets caught and twists under me and when I try to get it free, I lose my balance and fall flat on my face on the manicured grass. The fall jars me a little, but what really hurts is the ankle I twisted. I wince when the pressure of standing causes sharp pain to ball in my ankle and shoot up the side of my calf. I limp to Gio’s back door with tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t have a break or fracture, but this still hurts pretty bad, and now I don’t know how I’m going to get home without being seen.

  Gio meets me at the door and concern etches into his features at the sight of my limp and tears. “Bella, what happened?”

  “I twisted my ankle and fell climbing over the wall,” I say with a sniffle.

  “Aw, come here, Madness.” Gio takes my bag and slings it over his shoulder, and then he lifts me in his arms. He kisses my cheek and carries me up the stairs to his room. Kicking the door open, he brings me into the room and lays me and my bag on the bed, and then he heads toward the door again.

  “I’m going to get you an ice pack,” he explains. “Do you want a drink or anything to eat while I’m down there?”

  I smile at his thoughtfulness. “Just a cup of water. Thanks, babe.”

  I set the bag to the side and arrange some pillows against the headboard so I can lean back. When Gio returns with an ice pack and water, he takes some extra pillows out of his closet and places them under my already-swollen foot and ankle so we can elevate them. He puts the ice on the swollen area and positions himself between me and my bag as I sip from the glass of water he brought me.

  “I’m sorry, bella…I feel responsible for this—”

  I bring my forefinger to his lips to shush him, then take my finger out of the way so I can touch my lips to his. Gio returns my kiss softly with care and caution. I deepen the kiss by bringing my tongue out to taste him and Gio meets me with his own. We let our tongues tangle freely, savoring each other’s taste and fulfilling the longing we’ve felt for each other since we were stuck at a table together three hours ago.

  He wraps his arms around my waist and rubs my back in a soothing up-and-down pattern, hooking and curving his path until all the tension has left my muscles. I relax into his hold and let him cradle me in his arms. I missed his sweetness and attention over the past few months more than I miss air underwater. The only drugs I need to forget my pain are his intoxicating kisses. If he ever broke up with me, I don’t think I could survive without them.

  Gio finally releases me to look into my eyes. “You okay?”

  A blissful smi
le stretches my face. “Fine now that I’m with you. That kiss was worth twisting my ankle for.”

  He smiles and presses a tender kiss against my lips. “I’m sorry you had to twist your ankle to get this today.”

  I bring my fingers up to fork them through his thick hair. “Someday we won’t have to sneak around anymore.”

  He grins. “You swear?” I simply nod and press my lips to his again.

  After a long time of kissing, we finally tear ourselves away from each other to get some homework done. Not all of it needs to be done since we have the whole weekend to finish it, so we decide to simply get started on it and then spend some more time with each other. When we’ve read a satisfactory number of pages, Gio turns on The Avengers and we snuggle in his bed to watch it.

  “Who’s your favorite Avenger?” Gio asks, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

  “Black Widow. Obviously. I’m a bit of a feminist in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Makes sense. I kinda like Black Widow too.” I give him the side-eye. “Bet I know why.”

  Gio chuckles and shrugs. “What can I say? I like powerful women.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Unexpectedly, Gio pauses the movie with his remote and springs up from the bed. I give him a quizzical look when he rushes to the door.

  “I want to show you something,” he says. “Be right back.”

  I shrug and relax into Gio’s incredibly plush down pillows as I wait on him to return. I hear the crash of something wooden against the wall and my curiosity piques, but a jolt of pain in my leg when I move it reminds me I shouldn’t be going anywhere. Gio enters the room a moment later with a canvas on an easel that’s flipped backwards so I can’t see it. My confusion multiplies.