D.O.R.K. Series Box Set

by Haley Allison

  A smile tugs at my lips at the memory, but I strain against it, needing to hold my poker face.

  Ana spins the bottle, and it lands on Devon, who’s right next to me. My chest falls in on itself with disappointment for a brief moment, but then when Ana dares Devon to shove thirty cherries in her mouth at once and hold them there for sixty seconds, I can’t help but laugh along with the others. The game goes on, and ten minutes later, the bottle still hasn’t landed on me, despite several people trying to spin it in my direction. Fifteen minutes later, I’m convinced Kiki or one of her consorts put a hex on the bottle before Ana spun it the first time.

  Finally, Michelle spins the bottle and it ends up pointing between me and Devon. Devon pulls me over to be in front of it, and I giggle and thank her.

  “Okay Mads, it’s finally your turn.” Michelle flashes a pearly white smile at me. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.” I smirk at all the groans that resound against the high ceiling. No one’s getting any secrets out of me today, and I’m not afraid of anything they ask me to do.

  “I dare you to do a handstand while you count backwards from one hundred. If you fail, you have to tell us a secret.”

  I gulp, feeling sweat pool in my pores. Gymnastics have never been my thing. I can do a brief handstand, but holding my balance for one hundred seconds in place while using my non-mathematically inclined brain? That’s going to be rough.

  “Okay, I’ll try.” The other girls whoop and clap for me as I move to the middle of the room and take a deep breath. To warm up, I shake out my hands and wrists, feeling a slight pop between my shoulder blades that lets me know I’m loosening my joints and muscles. After putting one foot behind the other, I stretch my arms above my head, getting into position. Leaning down, I anchor my hands on the floor and raise one foot into the air and then the other, proud of myself for holding up even though I haven’t done this in years.

  Everyone cheers for me as I start counting. “One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…”

  I only make it to sixty-three before my trembling, aching arms give out under me and I fall to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

  Shit.

  “Good try, Mads! But now you owe us a secret.” Michelle and the other girls sit back with grins on their faces.

  I groan and drag myself back up to my seat on the couch. “Um…” Scanning the crowd, I notice Ana and the two girls who came with Kiki are gone. “Where are Celeste and Liza?”

  “Celeste had a time-of-the-month emergency and Liza went to help her,” Kiki explains. “Ana took them up to your bathroom. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Ana comes back down the stairs without them. A lump forms in my throat. I hope Kiki was telling the truth and it’s just a bathroom-related emergency. Something about this isn’t sitting right with me, but I don’t want bring that up here in front of everyone.

  I clear my throat. “Anyway, a secret…I wet the bed until I was seven years old.” My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

  Laughter rings out through the living room. I quickly spin the bottle to get the attention off myself.

  Miraculously, the bottle points toward Kiki. I wish I didn’t even have to ask, but I do.

  “Kiki, truth or dare?”

  “Truth.” Her lips point up in a smug smile.

  “What makes Raven Redinger the way she is?”

  Gasps come from all around the circle. Kiki grins and leans forward, as if she’s excited about divulging this secret.

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes.” My answer is echoed by a few of the girls.

  Kiki slips her tongue in-between her teeth, leans forward even further, and whispers like a snake’s hiss, “Psychosis.”

  “What?” Confused chatter ripples around the circle. My eyes bug out, and I shake my head, trying to make everything fall into place inside it.

  Psychosis. Raven is legitimately psychotic.

  “She has a diagnosis?” I ask, just to confirm.

  “Yep. Apparently, it runs in the Redinger family, and that’s why Jacie—I mean, Jess—was so crazy at her age too. Raven’s supposed to take medicine for it, but she’s convinced it would alter her personality too much, so she sells her prescriptions every month and tells Jess that she’s taken them when she hasn’t.”

  Chandler brings a bottle of rum into the room. “Finally, that long-buried secret is out. This calls for a party!”

  Shot glasses are passed around and the scent of pineapple-flavored alcohol fills the air. Celeste and Liza eventually come down and more drinks are brought out. Everyone else around me gives up on the game to get crunk, but I sit still for a while to process the news.

  I have a legit psychotic twin sister.

  December 10

  First Slumber Party

  Most girls don’t wait until they’re eighteen for the milestone of hosting their first slumber party, but I did just that. Back in Kentucky, I begged for parties, but Dad would always only let me have Ana over. He kept me away from the other girls in the church, probably because they all came from families a little less conservative than Ana’s, and there was more of a risk of them finding out who we were. The more conservative you are, the less you’re going to obsess over rock stars…or that was Dad’s logic, anyway.

  Now, finally, after eighteen years, I know what it’s like to host a slumber party. It was crazy, rowdy, rambunctious, downright wild, and a ton of fun. Since Dad and Cass were gone, nothing was off limits, and some people got deep into the liquor cabinet.

  Kiki spilled a lot of dirt about Raven last night while she was drunk. I learned that Raven sleepwalks, that she’s supposed to be on medication for psychosis but doesn’t take it, she really is with Gio this time, and she’s still hung up on Dalton. Like, big time. Between her and Devon, I was able to decipher that Dalton and Raven used to go out, and a huge fallout led to them hating each other’s guts. No one said why they had a fight, but I can imagine Raven’s scheming nature and psychosis played a heavy hand in it.

  Kiki wasn’t the only one whose tongue was set free by the alcohol. According to Ana, I got a little crazy and gushed to everyone about how much I love Logan…on camera. People who are supposed to be my friends recorded my drunken love spiel. Bunch of jerks.

  God, I’m so embarrassed I could die. They all promised not to show it to anyone, but if that video ever sees the light of day…I hate to think about how much it would freak him out. I guess we’ll see just how much I can trust these girls.

  On Saturday morning, he’s taking me on a hike at Runyon Canyon Park and we’re going to enjoy the view. Then we’ll have a nice lunch in town, shower off at his place, and head to band practice.

  Oh my God…I’m showering off at his place. It literally just occurred to me he might be expecting something to happen with that.

  There’s stuff you can do that doesn’t count as sex, so I’ve heard, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for it. Am I? He doesn’t even know about my rule…

  Dammit. I was excited, and now every nerve in my body is dancing the tango. I’ve never been so anxious in my life, and that’s saying a lot.

  What if he’s disappointed with my body? Or what if my lack of experience makes things super awkward or not fun at all for him? This sucks for me, because he’s had Claire, and now he’s stuck with me, a downgrade. No matter what he says, I’m always going to feel inferior to her in looks. She’s prettier than me. It’s as simple as that.

  And now I’ve ruined my nice manicure with my nail-biting habit. Great. Just great.

  Logan’s such a lucky guy. So privileged to have an almost-girlfriend who gnaws her nails off and doesn’t know what to do at a slumber party. I am such a loser. What the hell does he see in me?

  Hopefully I’ll be able to use my virgin status to excuse me from any expectations he may have. That’s my only hope of keeping him to myself and not letting him run off for some model. I know that statement is probably not true—he’s supposedly obsessed with me,
after all—but I’m afraid that if he finds out how flawed and pathetic I really am, his image of me is going to shatter into a million pieces on the figurative floor.

  Having a high opinion of me gives him higher standards for his relationship with me, and that scares me a little. Hopefully I’ll live up to the hype.

  Ttyl,

  Mads

  An unexpected call wakes me up at eight thirty on Friday morning. Picking up the phone, I stifle a yawn and ignore the caller ID completely as I slide the phone icon to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. Is this Madison?”

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “Hi, this is Agatha Vincent, Jacie Redinger’s personal assistant.”

  “Oh, hi Agatha.” Agatha and I have met on a couple of occasions. She is a skinny, serious woman with dark gray eyes and even grayer hair. From the look of her fresh pressed pantsuit, I gathered she’s not the type to look disheveled very often. Clearly, she lives for her job and does a fantastic job of it. In fact, servicing Jessica “Jacie” Redinger seems to be all she’s capable of.

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m afraid I’m calling with some bad news. Are you sitting down?”

  Fear rips through my chest, and my hands begin to tremble. Bad news and my sick mother are a worrying combination right now.

  “Yes, I’m sitting down.”

  “Your mother is in a dire state. Her latest surgery was successful, but they discovered a terrifying number of new masses all over that are growing and multiplying. The cancer is progressing quickly. There is no longer hope of survival. She is weak and frail. The doctors have given her three months to live, six if she’s extremely lucky.”

  All sound fades except the sound of my own shallow breathing. I clutch the phone tightly as if it’s a lifeline. Jess is dying. I suspected something like this could happen, but I didn’t expect it so soon. What scares me the most is how much this news upsets me.

  “They’re sure about this?” I mutter.

  “Very sure. I’m so sorry, Madison. Your mother didn’t feel up to talking on the phone this morning, but she asked for you last night. If you could come by and see her, I know that would lift her spirits some.”

  I push my vocal cords to work past my constricted throat. “Sure, of course.”

  “Perfect. I’ll make sure she’s awake when you arrive.”

  “Thank you. Goodbye.”

  Hanging up the phone, I fall back into bed in a state of shock. I just got my mother back after eighteen years. Now, not even a year after I found her, she’s going to die. Cancer is stealing her from me. I had so little time to adjust to this, to find out more about my heritage, to get to know her, and all too soon she’ll be gone.

  Tears build in my eyes, but I blink them back. Now is not the time for crying. My mother needs me there. In the little time she has left, I’m going to be there for her, Raven’s pettiness be damned.

  Jess sits reclined on the chaise lounge, perfectly relaxed as her frail hand rests limp in mine. Her gaze is fixed on the view of her backyard from the canopied verandah. A soft breeze passes between us, carrying notes of pain and joy, life and death. My heart is caught in a vise, trapped in a quandary I never thought I’d experience so soon.

  I’m putting myself in a difficult position by being here. Avoiding this whole thing would be easy to do. I could immerse myself in the holidays, in Logan, in my friends, my music…I could forget I had a sick mother on the other side of town if I wanted to. But here I am, putting my soul at risk and stepping into enemy territory. Raven is here, camping above us in her bedroom, likely planning my demise. Coming here for Jess is a true act of love. In this moment, no matter how much I want to deny it, no matter how much I want to push the truth away, I have to admit it—

  I love my mother in my own weird way. She was my first glimpse of what I could be and is the standard I still subconsciously hold myself to. My childhood dreams began and ended with her. Watching her die is going to crush me.

  My cheeks are wet before I even feel myself crying. When I reach up to wipe my eyes, Jess feels the shift and turns toward me.

  “Oh, sweetheart…don’t waste any more…of your tears on me,” she rasps out, barely able to breathe. According to her house nurse, she’ll only be able to form sentences for a little while. Soon her speech will shorten to phrases, then one-word answers, and eventually she won’t be able to speak or move at all. The cancer has moved to her pancreas and liver now, so it’s slowly weakening her day by day. The Jacie Redinger the world knows and loves is about to be replaced by a bedridden shell of the person she once was. It’s only a matter of time now.

  “If it’s too hard…for you to be here…you should leave,” she tells me, squeezing my hand as much as she can.

  “No.” Adamantly, I shake my head. “This is my chance to talk to you. I’m not going to give it up.”

  “Very well.” An exhausted smile draws her dry lips upward. “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you get into acting?”

  She straightens up in her seat. “I’m afraid that story is a little long and…sordid.” Jess clears her throat. “In the beginning, I…I used some…strategies I wouldn’t recommend to anyone. Bartering for interviews with secrets…using my body to get me others…there was nothing I wouldn’t do to…get ahead. It was like an addiction.”

  The lump in my throat forces me to swallow. Her eyes spark with pain when she recalls her past. I almost want to tell her she doesn’t have to tell me anything else, but she continues.

  “After a while, especially after my big mistake with you, I…realized I wanted to earn what I had. I wanted to feel better about myself. So I took acting classes and…built on my natural talent. It was after that I…landed my role as Raven in Never Really Alone. Once people saw me in that film, my career took off.”

  Nodding, I let her know I’m well aware of that story. I’ve traced her public history back as far as it goes. If she hadn’t concealed her identity so well after the incident with me, I would have known about my own past a long time ago.

  “Anyway…” Jess stops to take a long, labored draught of water, coughing violently as she sets her glass down on the table beside her. “Now all I want is to…live a genuine life. No secrets, no backstabbing…that’s why I said I wanted to be like you. You…seem above such things. I know you saw…Giovanni Abate for a while, but after hearing what Raven did…I can hardly blame you.”

  A burden lifts from my chest at those words. “I appreciate that, Jess. However, I’m not entirely the straightforward person you think I am. I make plenty of mistakes.”

  “As does everyone, my dear.” Her eyes sparkle with tenderness. “But I trust you more…than I’ve ever trusted anyone in…this family. It takes a good person to forgive someone like you’ve forgiven me.”

  A smile passes between us, one that doesn’t need further elaboration. I’m glad I was able to move past my hatred of her. She’s glad I don’t hate her and we can reconcile before she goes. As painful as this situation is, it would be a lot worse if she had died before I met her. There’s a sense of closure here we never could have had before.

  Jess clears her throat hoarsely and glances off to the side. “By the way, there…there was another reason I called you here today. I do…love your company, but there is…a legal matter I’d like to address before…you go.”

  Legal matter? The very words make my stomach churn. I have no idea what to expect.

  “Okay…”

  “I’m having you added to my will,” Jess informs me.

  I almost choke on my own saliva from gasping. “What?”

  “You deserve half this estate and more…”

  Her words fade into a dull roar in my ears. Half this estate? Half of this gorgeous, mega millions, castle-like place that looks like it was ripped straight out of a storybook? It sounds amazing, but how is that going to work? Will I have to share this place with Raven?

  “Raven will k
eep the house and the property, of course…she does live here, after all,” Jess adds as if reading my thoughts. My heart pings with disappointment. “However, you will inherit half my fortune, and you are welcome to take…anything your heart desires from this mansion over the next few months, even after I’m gone. I’ll put a…stipulation in the will…”

  So I’m taking half of money Raven probably perceives as hers and taking things from her house. Not so sure I like this idea.

  “Please, Jess, no.” My hair whips my face with the force of my protest. “You don’t need to add me to anything. Believe me, I don’t want to cause any trouble with Raven—”

  “You won’t, dear. I’ll see to it that she…cannot bother you about it.”

  Sweat seeps out of the pores in my forehead. “Jess, really, you don’t owe me—”

  “Yes, I do. I owe you for everything. It’s the least I can do.”

  But once she’s gone, there will be no wall between Raven and me…

  No protection.

  I’ll be a sitting duck, sitting on half her money.

  December 11

  The Inheritance

  I just got home from an intense conversation with Jess. The doctors have determined she’s not going to live much longer. It’s heartbreaking to even look at her now. She told me she wants to split her inheritance between Raven and me. I am overwhelmingly grateful, but also somewhat petrified. The thought of dividing the will in half when Raven is already so emotionally unhinged sickens my stomach. Money doesn’t matter to me. I wouldn’t need it even if Dad wasn’t the Grim Weeper. It’s not something I crave or desire, but Jess wants me to have it, so I guess I won’t say “no.”

  I dread Raven finding out, though. She’s going to make my life at school M-I-S-E-R-A-B-L-E. Her burning desire to destroy me is going to escalate to an inferno of hatred. It’s just one more thing to divide us—one more thing to turn her against me.

  I don’t think Jess fully understands how much Raven truly despises me. For some unknown reason, she has chosen me as the target of all her wrath and cruelty since the day I stepped foot in this city. Adding fuel to the fire is surely not a good idea without Jess being around to throw water on the flames. There will be nothing to stop Raven once she’s gone. Raven Unbound is something I don’t want to see.