by Kelly Oram
“They respect me?” There was no way she’d get me to believe that.
“You’re tortured at school, but you never let it get to you. You never complain, and you never get anyone in trouble. All anyone could talk about today was how cool it was of you to drop the charges against Jason.
“Plus, you keep to yourself so much that you’re, like, mysterious. People are intrigued by you. They’re starting to like you. Rob Loxley even has a crush on you. That’s why Ana got so mad and made Jason do what he did. She thought Rob was going to ask her to the dance, and instead he asked her if she thought you would go to the dance with him.”
I was shocked. I didn’t see how what she was saying could be possible, but she wouldn’t make up a story like this just to be cruel. Anastasia would, but not Juliette. Juliette was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a liar.
Juliette went back to her homework, giving me the chance to process everything she’d just told me. After a minute she didn’t look up from her work, but she said, “If you want me to give Rob your number, I will. He’s a pretty decent guy. Kind of quiet for my taste, but you guys might hit it off.”
I didn’t respond right away, and Juliette didn’t seem to care if I answered her or not. I didn’t know how to feel about someone having a crush on me. I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. I couldn’t go outside in short-sleeve shirts, much less have some guy wanting to see me or touch me. A boyfriend couldn’t even hold my hand when I walked because I have to use my cane in my good hand, and I didn’t think I could let someone hold my scarred hand.
“I don’t know,” I finally answered. “I’ll think about it.”
“Whatever.”
That was the end of our conversation until Jennifer called us up for dinner later. Juliette turned off the TV and started to pack up her stuff. I didn’t want to risk annoying her, but as long as she was somewhat talking to me, I needed one last answer.
“Hey, Juliette? I know we’ll never be like actual sisters or anything, but I don’t want to be enemies forever, either. You told me why Anastasia hates me, but what’s your problem with me?”
Juliette stopped shoving books in her backpack and looked at me. All of her usual indifference was gone, and I could see anger in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have a problem with you if you weren’t always so mean to Mom and Dad. They’re good parents. They’ve gone out of their way to do everything they can for you. Dad almost lost his job because he spent so much time in Boston while you were in the hospital. They renovated your room. They give you everything you need. They always do nice things for you, hoping it might make you happy. They try so hard to help you, and you throw it back in their faces all the time.”
Her words iced me over like a bucket of freezing water splashed in my face. Of all the things I could have imagined, I never would have thought she was just being protective of my dad and Jennifer. And the thing is, after she’d said that, I realized that there wasn’t just anger in her eyes, but hurt.
“You treat our parents as bad as Ana treats you,” she said. “Especially Dad, and he doesn’t deserve that. He’s a good man. He may not be my biological father, but he’s my dad. He’s raised me since I was seven years old, and he’s never treated me like I wasn’t his real daughter. He’s loved me like I was his own.”
All the conflicting emotions in me were so confusing. I was shocked, for one thing. I never realized I was acting so horribly. I wasn’t even sure if I really had, or if Juliette was just being defensive and exaggerating. But if I had…I wasn’t that person. I didn’t treat people like that. I’d always considered myself to be kind. I didn’t like being compared to someone like Anastasia.
At the same time, I was also angry. Part of me thought Juliette had no right to think anything at all about my relationship with my father. It was none of her business. But more than anything, I was hurt because she had the relationship with him that I should have had, and she acted as if there were nothing wrong with that.
“That’s not true,” I whispered. “He’s loved you much more than if you were his own child, because I am his child and he didn’t love me at all. Did you know he didn’t even say good-bye to me when he left? I was eight years old. I came home from school one day, and he was just gone. There was no note, no phone call, no anything. I just never saw him again.
“I grew up without any father at all because my dad was out here giving you hugs, and tucking you into bed at night, and loving you like a real daughter instead of me. Talk about having something thrown in your face all the time. How do you think it makes me feel to have to live here and see how happy you all are together? Do you have any idea how much it hurts every time I hear you and Anastasia call him Dad? To know that he loves you—really, truly loves you? I’m his daughter, and he only took me in because he had to.”
I took a breath and put my books back in my backpack. I couldn’t handle this conversation any longer.
“I’m not saying you don’t have a reason to be angry,” Juliette said, “but you asked what my problem is with you, and that’s it. We were happy before you came here. Now my parents fight a lot more, and Ana and I barely speak except to yell at each other. I get that you have problems, and I understand that this sucks for you, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re making everyone in this house miserable. You’re ruining my family.”
I apologized as I shouldered my backpack and stood up. “I’m sorry.” I tried not to sound bitter, because I really was sorry. “If I had any idea how to change that, I would.”
I turned to leave and saw Jennifer standing on the stairs, watching Juliette and me with a stricken expression. From the puffiness of her eyes, I was sure she’d heard that entire conversation. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled again as I made my way past her.
Brian
When the Patriots scored yet another touchdown, I decided I needed another drink. As I wandered into the kitchen and cracked open another beer, I thought of Ella. Ella was from New England. She was more of a baseball fan—apparently being from Boston means you’re born with Red Sox pride in your blood—but if she followed football at all, she was probably laughing right now. I took a long, refreshing swallow of ice-cold Corona and sent her a quick text.
If you’re a Patriots fan, I might have to disown you.
Her reply was almost instant.
LOL! You’re safe. Not a big football fan. But if I ever learn you root for the Dodgers, we can’t be friends anymore.
A second text followed that one, saying, Why? Who are they beating right now?
I smiled at the question. Ella didn’t care about football, but she was still willing to talk about it with me. I started to type a reply, but then realized that after three years I finally had her number and could talk to her now. “The Packers are down three touchdowns and a field goal,” I said when she answered my call. “It’s very demoralizing.”
“Green Bay? Are you seriously a cheesehead?”
She laughed and I smiled again. Her laugh was my new favorite sound in the whole world. “I have never had—nor will I ever have—the urge to wear a foam cheese hat, but yes, I am a Green Bay fan.”
“Why?” Ella asked. “Are you from Wisconsin? Oh my gosh, please say yes. That would be too funny. Please tell me the California playboy act is all a ruse and you’re secretly the son of a dairy farmer.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I really am Los Angeles born and bred. My mother lives in Green Bay, though. She married a very enthusiastic Packers fan so, over the years, since LA doesn’t have a football team, I’ve adopted Green Bay as my own.”
“That is a little disappointing. I’m sorry your team is losing, though. I’ll send you some good-luck vibes.”
“Appreciated.”
I smiled again and took another sip of my beer. A loud cheer erupted from the living room where a bunch of my buddies were watching the game. Hopefully that meant Green Bay finally scored, but now I wasn’t that interested in going back to find out.
&
nbsp; I slipped outside onto the back patio and shut the door behind me. Ella was quiet on the other end of the line, and suddenly I had no idea what to say to her.
I’d never been in a girl’s “friend” zone before—the thought of a girl not wanting me that way was absurd—but I was worried that’s where I fell on Ella’s radar. She had no problem telling me she cared about me, and she teased me all the time, but she never flirted with me, even when I would flirt first.
I was shocked when I found out she’d moved to Los Angeles and hadn’t told me, and she’d been so hesitant to call when I gave her my number. It was almost as if she didn’t want to be anything more than Internet friends. Three years and she’d never even asked for my real name. Granted, I’d never asked for hers, either, but that was only because I had no idea how I was going to handle the “I’m Brian Oliver” conversation when it finally came up.
Talking on the phone changed our relationship a little, and I wasn’t sure quite how to tread the water now. I felt nervous and a little stupid. The feelings were so foreign to me that I almost didn’t recognize them as self-consciousness. I’d never been self-conscious with a girl before.
“So…” I had to clear my throat when my voice didn’t want to produce sound correctly. “What are you up to? Is it okay that I called? It’s not weird or anything?”
“No, it’s not weird. I like it. You can call me whenever you want. Even if it’s just to complain about the Packers losing Monday Night Football.”
The teasing in her voice melted away my nerves. I wasn’t going to miss them. “How are things? Better than Friday? Are you surviving the stepfamily?”
“I guess. Things are kind of strange, but not in a bad way. My one stepsister is still Freddy Krueger, but I had a talk with the other one and she really isn’t as horrible as I thought. We came to an understanding, at least. I think. Anyway, happier subjects. Make me laugh. You’re the only one who ever does.”
My heart sank a little at the request. Why did Ella refuse to let me in? All her talk about mental institutions and suicide the other day really freaked me out. I knew she was having a hard time adjusting to her new life with her dad, but I had no idea her depression was so serious. I couldn’t stop worrying about her.
I wished there were something more I could do to help than make her laugh, but if that was what she said she needed, then I couldn’t let her down. I racked my brain for something she’d find amusing, but it wasn’t easy because I wasn’t really in a laughing mood anymore. Not when she was out there in need of someone to love her, and the only person I was allowed to be with right now was the freaking spawn of Satan.
And I was suddenly inspired. “Have you ever read The Taming of the Shrew?”
“I haven’t read the play, but I’ve seen the old Elizabeth Taylor movie.”
“My girlfriend is the shrew, only there’s no taming her.”
Ella laughed. I was glad to have successfully cheered her up, but I wished I were joking. “I’m serious. I think she might actually be the devil reincarnate.”
“She sounds a lot like my stepsister.”
“Worse. I promise. Much, much worse.”
“Then why are you dating her?”
“Because she’s really hot and the sex is good?”
I knew that would work. Ella’s disgusted groan made my smile come back. “Nice, Cinder. How completely shallow of you.”
Ella was teasing, but she also believed me. She really did think I was nothing but a shallow, egotistical playboy. Yeah, I sort of was, but that was only because the girls I knew were all like Kaylee and not worth giving my heart to.
I hated that my reputation might disappoint Ella. She wasn’t interested in players like me. I was proud of her for that, but it rankled me at the same time because that was probably the reason I was just a friend to her. I couldn’t tell her everything, but I was suddenly desperate to make her understand that there was more to me than the guy she believed I was. “Honestly, it’s not her looks. It’s more complicated than that. She’s kind of this high-profile girl.”
“Celebrity or supermodel?”
I smirked.
“Heiress?”
If she only knew how right she was. Kaylee was all three of those things, but I couldn’t tell Ella that. Kaylee and I were in the media too much right now, and I didn’t want Ella to figure out who I was on her own. That wasn’t going to be easy for her to swallow. I wanted to be there face to face when I explained. “No comment,” I said, and she burst into laughter.
“Ha!” she shouted. “I knew it! Mr. VIP with his fancy women. You should try dating a nice, quiet librarian or something. Then you might not have to call your girlfriend a shrew.”
“Actually, that could be hot—hair in a bun just screaming to be let down, some nice, thick glasses, a tight skirt, and a silky blouse with lots of buttons for me to rip open? I would totally make love to her up against the stacks in the classic literature section.”
There was a choking sound and then Ella said, “Um, okay, that was definitely an over share.”
I grinned at her bewilderment and dropped my voice to that low, soothing tone I knew she liked. “Are you blushing right now, Ellamara?”
“I’m pretty sure even my grandmother is blushing in her grave after that visual, Cinder.”
That visual? My smile widened even further. Had she just pictured herself as my fantasy librarian? Friend zone, my ass. Brian Oliver is no woman’s friend. I had to take advantage of this opportunity.
“Have you ever thought of becoming a librarian, Ella? You’d probably make a really good one, what with your love of reading and all your haughty indignation. Or I could totally picture you teaching in a boarding school, handing out detention slips and spanking all the naughty boys with a ruler.”
“Spanking naughty boys with a ruler?” Her voice was so flat that I burst out laughing. “You are hopeless, Cinder. How about we get away from the cheesy porno dialogue and go back to the complicated ‘no comment’ shrew you mentioned. Tell me why you’re really dating her, if it’s not just the sex.”
“You’re no fun.” I pouted, but then sighed for real. Kaylee was such a mood killer. “All right, fine. So she’s basically The Boss’s Daughter, right? And, of course, she’s totally in to me.”
“Oh, of course.”
“Yes, of course. Stop interrupting me, woman.”
“Stop making me.”
Infuriating girl! I had the sudden urge to shake my phone. “Anyway… She’s got a lot of clout, so my dad and a bunch of other people are really putting the pressure on me to keep her happy.”
“That’s awful!” Ella’s voice sounded equally amused and appalled. “How can you let them tell you who to date?”
“It’s complicated.”
Grimacing, I chugged the last of my beer. I knew I sounded ridiculous, but how could I make her understand? “My life is complicated. There are a lot of people who think they own it. Especially my dad. I don’t really have a lot of control over anything.”
“Do you ever stand up for yourself?”
“When I can.”
“And you don’t think the choice of who you date is one of those times?”
“Not this time. This chick is really important. If I broke it off and she had a tantrum—which she definitely would—she could really screw up a lot of things for a lot of people. Me, more than anyone. I’m stuck for now. I’m hoping that if I can just be a big enough jerk, she’ll get tired of me and dump my sorry ass.”
“That is seriously crazy, Cinder. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Shaking away all depressing thoughts, I headed back into the house and tossed my empty beer can in the trash. “But it’s not the most horrible thing in the world.” It was only temporary, after all, and I had Ella to keep me sane until it was over.
“Because at least she’s super hot and the sex is great?”
I chuckled at Ella’s sarcasm. “Right. Although, maybe it’s not as great as I
thought. You’ve really got me stuck on this librarian idea. I bet I could—”
“Okay, this is where I hang up,” Ella interrupted.
Laughing again, I opened the fridge. All this talk of hot librarians—Ella as a hot librarian—gave me the munchies. “Why?” I asked as I spotted some fresh strawberries. My brain immediately went to feeding them to Ella, and then I thought of other things I could do with Ella. “You don’t want to work out any dirty fantasies with me? It’s your fault I’m having them. What are you wearing right now, anyway?”
“HA!” Ella laughed. “No! We are not going there. Not ever, Cinder.”
“Why not?”
“Just, no, you perve!”
Ella was trying to hide it, but I had her completely flustered and I loved it. Asking her to call me was the best decision I’d ever made. “Your loss,” I teased. “I could have rocked your world, baby.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Kaylee suddenly shrieked, startling me so badly I dropped the strawberries all over the floor.
Shutting the fridge, I turned around to find Kaylee so red-faced I was sure she’d heard a lot more of that conversation than just my last statement. For some reason, that made me want to laugh. I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from doing so. “I gotta go,” I said into the phone. “I totally just got busted by the shrew.”
“The what?” Kaylee screamed.
On the other end of the line, Ella giggled. “Congratulations. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you get dumped.”
At hearing that, I couldn’t hold back my laughter any longer. “You’re the best. I’ll call you later.”
I hung up the phone and met Kaylee’s glare with big, innocent eyes. “Problem?” I didn’t wait for her answer before I bent down to clean up the mess of spilled fruit.
Kaylee’s heels clacked across the tile floor as she crossed the kitchen. They came to a stop in front of my face, and the right one began tapping obnoxiously. “What do you think?” she spat.
“I think we’re not in public, Kay, so I can do whatever the hell I want.”
