by Brooke Moss
“If you have any idea what’s good for you, you’ll—”
I met his stare, challenging him. “I’ll what? Run and cower? Come home tonight and let you beat the shit out of me for daring to argue with you? Forget it. Not anymore.”
He pursed his lips, lines forming between his furrowed eyebrows. “It’s that little Coulter girl, isn’t it? She’s some damn foster kid from a broken home, so she’s got you convinced you’re a victim, too.”
“Posey’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, my voice calm and level, though I was shaking. “She’s smart, and tough, and supportive, and smarter than any other girl I’ve ever met. And she listens to me. Do you know how good it feels to finally be listened to?
“And no, she’s not from a broken home. Not anymore. She’s from an incredible family that loves her, and to be honest, I’m pretty damn jealous of it.” My mother’s face crumpled, and I reached across the table to put my hand on hers. “Don’t take it personal. The Coulters are happy together. There’s no competition anymore. I don’t think there ever was.”
My dad smacked my hand away from my mother’s. “Don’t touch her. You made your choice.”
I felt sick. “Mom?”
She closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her face, taking her makeup with it. “Andrew…”
Please choose me over him, Mom. For once, please choose me.
She opened her eyes and dabbed the corners with a napkin. “I… I can’t.”
Everything inside of me ached, and I hunched over a bit. I don’t know why, but I’d really thought she would say yes. I mean, I was her only kid. You’d think kicking out the guy who beats up on that kid would be easy. But apparently it wasn’t. It hurt. That knowledge hurt ten times worse than taking a punch to the ribs.
“Well.” I sat up and put my palms on the table. “I guess I should go”
“Where are you going?” Mom asked, her voice cracking.
“Shhh. Dammit.” Dad cringed. “Probably to that trash’s house.”
I stood up, gritting my teeth together as I leaned in close to my dad’s face. My heart thudded in my chest so hard I was sure everyone in the diner could see it through my tee shirt. “She’s not trash. And if you screw with her family, or anybody else I care about, I’ll tell people what you’re really like. I’ll tell all my teachers, I’ll tell the principal, I’ll tell the cops, I’ll tell the damned newspaper. And I’ll keep telling until someone believes me. There’s only so many people you can bribe, sir.”
When I stood upright, my dad’s face was pale, and my mother dropped her head in her hands. I didn’t stick around to hear what they would say next. I just walked out of the diner, climbed into Mac’s truck and told him,
“Drive.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Her.
“What do you think of this one?” Jessa held up the sparkly royal blue dress and struck a pose, making me smile.
“You’d look good in that color,” I told her, flipping through the rack. “Who am I kidding? You’d look good in every color.”
Okay, so I was sort of tense. I didn’t mean to be, and I was really trying to keep my ultra-female desires at bay. But, Mac had asked Jessa to the Homecoming dance, and Drew had yet to ask me… and I was starting to worry.
Granted, Drew had a lot on his mind. Semifinals were coming up soon, and he’d officially moved to Mac’s mom, Karen’s, home a couple of days ago. And while he was safe and happy to be rid of his father’s constant threats and bullying, I could see by the downturn at the corners of his mouth and the sadness in his eyes that Drew was hurting. And if anybody got it, I did.
Nothing feels worse that knowing than your parent doesn’t care enough about you to put you first.
Which is why I’d decided to block my mom online. Her incessant messages made me crazy. They ranged from pathetic and pleading to rude and accusatory. She thought I’d turned into a snob who didn’t give a damn about her anymore, and she’d told me so in a cuss-word saturated message.
I didn’t have the strength to keep ignoring those messages anymore. They made me question myself. Had I done something wrong by moving on with my life? Was there something wrong with me because I didn’t want to get sucked back into the madness that was my mother’s life… after seven years of being ignored?
Plus my feelings for the Coulters were evolving. I used to think they were a bunch of do-gooders with a God complex. Now I kind of thought they were a pack of people who—by some sort of miracle—actually kind of liked me. Maybe even loved me. And I didn’t ever want to give that up.
“Whatever.” Jessa put the dress back on the rack. “These are all to expensive, anyway. I still like the black one back at the second hand store.”
“I liked that one, too.” I knotted my hair on the back of my head and glanced across the boutique where Paula helped Lacey and Tabitha pick out new shoes. She’d picked up all of us girls after school to take us to Langley for Jessa’s homecoming dress. “How much is it?”
Jessa held up the tag and made a face. “A hundred and ten dollars.”
“Yikes.” I sucked in a sharp breath, and continued flipping through the rack. The Coulters lived on a shoestring budget, and while I didn’t mind that they couldn’t afford much, I’d overheard the other girls complain a time or two. Most of the other kids had come to Paula and John when they were so young they didn’t remember a time before entering the foster system. I, on the other hand, remembered years and years without a cell phone or new school clothes. My last foster mom had used the stipend the state gave her to buy me a new winter coat to get herself a new tattoo.
I was kind of used to going without.
Jessa wanted to look pretty for Mac, and I couldn’t blame her. She liked Mac a lot, and it would be her first dance. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to look pretty. Shoot, I’d want to look pretty, too.
Even if my boyfriend wasn’t planning to take me.
Shaking my head, I moved away from the dresses and went to link my arm through Jessa’s. “I think you looked prettier in the black one, anyway. Let’s ask Paula to take us back to that other store.”
She grinned at me. “Really? You really liked it?”
“I did.” I nodded as Jessa started to wiggle next to me. “Let’s bounce.”
“Mom, can we go back to the second hand store?” she called. “I like the black one the best.”
When Paula looked up from Tabitha’s shoes, she looked relieved. “Okay. Sure.” She opened her purse and pulled out some crumpled bills. “Here, take the girl’s shoes to the counter and pay for them, would you?”
“’Kay.” Jessa took the money and led her sisters to the register.
Paula put her arm around my shoulders and led me back to the rack of dresses. “See anything you like, Posey?”
“Yeah. I like the red one.” I kind of enjoyed the way her arm felt around me. This was one of those typical mother-daughter moments I’d seen on TV about a thousand times and scoffed at. We were like a real live tampon commercial. “But they’re too expensive. And Drew hasn’t even asked me to homecoming.”
“Oh, the red will look gorgeous with your skin,” Paula gushed, picking it up and holding it up to me. “And I might be able to buy a red one at the second hand store, then convert it to this style.”
I looked down. The red really did look nice against my glaringly white skin. Kind of a Snow White thing. “You can do that? You sew?”
“I dabble.” She smiled kindly. “Actually, I taught myself how when John and I found ourselves with such a big family. It’s better for the pocketbook to hem a pair of pants or patch it myself, instead of running out to buy a different pair.”
“I see.” I fingered the beading on the red dress. It was gorgeous. Fitted down to the knee, dropped-cap sleeves, ruching. I’d never worn anything nicer than a second hand pair of khakis before. “You think you could do this for me?”
“With that red dress we saw at the second hand st
ore, yeah. It might not be quite as fancy as this one, but I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks. But maybe we should wait and see if Drew even asks me.”
She tilted her head. “Of course he’ll ask you. He’s just busy lately. He’ll get to it, I’m sure of it.”
We continued looking through the dresses in amicable silence. I could hear Jessa and the other girls jabbering as they waited in line across the store. After a few seconds, Paula raised her head and looked at me, her gaze heavy. “Posey, what’s going on with Drew?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Per Drew’s request, I’d kept his staying at Mac’s a secret from Paula and John. Though I’d argued with him about it, he didn’t want to out his dad yet. Said he didn’t want to do that unless he absolutely had to. So when the Coulters asked how Drew had gotten his black eye and red cheek, I just said he’d swam into the side of the pool during practice. Twice. It was a stretch, but I didn’t think well on my feet.
Paula and John weren’t convinced, though. When he came to our house for dinner or dessert, I could see Paula watching Drew talk, waiting for him to say something, or ask for help, or who knows what. They were foster parents, and I wasn’t stupid. If he weren’t eighteen already, they would have had to tell CPS if they knew Drew was getting shoved around at home.
Paula’s hand was warm when it squeezed mine. “Is he having problems at home?”
About a thousand inventive ways to tell her to piss off and mind her own business scrolled through my mind, but I tried to ignore them all. I didn’t want to hurt Paula anymore than I already had at least a dozen times since coming to Twisted Tree.
“I…” I closed my mouth and bit my lip. “I promised him I wouldn’t say.”
Her face fell. “That’s what I thought. I knew something was wrong at his house. Curtis has always been so rigid. So angry.”
I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “You’ve picked up on that, too?”
“When we were in high school, Curtis’ father was always riding him.” She tucked her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ears and nodded. “He never admitted things at home weren’t good, but I knew.”
“How long have you known about Drew?”
She shrugged, her face pained. “A while. When you started seeing him, and he came over with a black eye, I wondered. But I took your word for it. This week, though, Drew’s seemed pretty troubled. I wanted to talk to you before I called—”
“No.” I grabbed her arm. “Please. Don’t call the department.”
When she looked at me, her sympathy was written all over her face. Mouth downturned and eyes moist. “Posey, I’m a mandatory reporter. I have to.”
“Drew’s not living with his parents anymore,” I said quickly. “He moved to Mac’s house, and he’s not going back home. He… he took care of it himself. He’s eighteen, he doesn’t have to stay with his parents if he doesn’t want to.”
“Mac’s mom? Karen?” Paula thought about this. “She’s a nice person. He’s safe with her. How’s Drew taking the change?”
“He’s okay, I guess. He seems sort of sad. I mean, it’s his dad. As much as he hates his dad… he loves him, too. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I understand,” she said softly. “I’ve been in this foster thing a while.” Paula gestured over her shoulder. “Jessa cried for her parents for six months. Lacey ran away twice, and she wasn’t even in kindergarten yet. And Cooper still has nightmares about trying to rescue his mom from a burning building.” When I blinked at her a few times, she added, “She was killed when his mom’s boyfriend beat her then set fire to their apartment. Cooper was four.”
Emotion stung the backs of my eyes, and I had to catch my breath. I’d just assumed that all the kids came into their home loving them instantly and slipping right into their place without a hiccup.
“I… I had no idea,” I mumbled, my voice jagged. “I thought…”
“You thought you were the only screwed up one in the Coulter house?” She patted my back. “Take a number, sweetie. We’ve all got issues.”
Laughing, I looked at my skin against the red fabric again. “Good to know.”
“Anyway, I’m glad Drew is safe.” She jumped when her phone buzzed. “Because if he’s not staying with his father, then I won’t say anything. But if he goes back, I’m going to have to. Do you understand?”
I nodded, watching her tug her beat up iPhone out of her purse. “Um, Paula?”
She tucked the phone into her pocket without looking at it. “Yes?”
My heart warmed. I didn’t know very many adults who dropped everything to hang out and talk to a teenager. “Um… I’ve been thinking. You know, about the whole adoption thing.”
Paula’s face lit up. Her eyes went high on her forehead and she stepped closer to me. “Okay! Yeah. Sure. And?”
“Well, you know how you and John said you wanted it to be what I wanted?”
Jessa and the girls walked up. “Got the shoes. Can we go back to the second hand store now?”
“Yes. I mean, in just a second. Posey was saying something.” Paula grinned and bounced a tiny bit. She was starting to resemble Jessa. Or maybe it was Jessa resembling our mom.
Wait. Our mom? I kind of liked the sound of that.
I bit my thumbnail, and looked away from her. “I… I guess I was sort of thinking that being adopted might, you know, be sorta cool.”
The scream that Paula, Jessa, Lacey, and Tabitha all released in unison was ear piercing, and the lady behind the counter covered her ears. Before I knew it, they’d enveloped me in a hug so tight, I thought I might tip over. Then they started jumping up and down right there in front of the picture window at the front of the boutique, taking me with them whether I liked it or not.
“I’m so happy. I’m just…” Paula squeaked, releasing me. She pressed a kiss to one cheek, then the other. “Posey, I knew when I first met you that you were meant to be a part of our family. We all knew it.”
“Thank you,” I said, my face heating. “I’m happy.”
“Good.” She put her arm around my shoulders and followed the girls as they led the way out of the boutique and towards the old minivan. “You deserve to be happy.”
On my other side, Lacey looped her arm through mine. “Can I be your favorite sister?”
“Too late!” Jessa cried, throwing open the van door. “We’re practically BFFs at school. You don’t even know.”
“Wait, what about me?” Tabitha pouted, climbing in.
“Guys. Chill. You’re all my favorite.” My limbs suddenly felt heavy as the images of Rory and Julian flashed in my mind. I hadn’t seen them in so long, and now I was getting ready to join a whole new family. I wished that there was some way they could know I’d never forgotten them, and if I had my way, I’d still be their sister, too.
Paula squeezed me tight against her side. “Very diplomatic answer. Good job. Now let’s get you home, so Drew can ask you to homecoming.”
“He will!” Jessa cried from the back of the van. “It’s coming! I know it!”
Laughing, I pulled opened the passengers’ side door and started to climb in, but stopped. There, across the street, kitty corner from us was the beat up silver car Drew and I had seen the week before. I couldn’t see who sat behind the wheel, as the windows were tinted dark, and cracked, too.
I didn’t know why, but a shudder danced down my spine as I sat down in the van and buckled my belt.
Chapter Twenty-five
Him.
I ran my thumb across Posey’s knuckles as we walked across the school grounds towards the pool auditorium. Her mouth pricked upward in a short-lived smile, as she focused on the ground in front of her feet with a frown.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked her finally. “You’ve been distracted all day.”
“Nothin’.”
Posey had been down since she arrived at school that day. When Mac and Jessa rattled on and on about homecoming
over lunch, she’d just played with her plastic fork. I felt terrible. At TTHS the dance was a big deal, right up there with prom. Girls got fancy dresses, guys rented tuxes and sometimes a limo. Then the couples went to a big dinner and dance sponsored by the school, where all the teachers stepped in as chefs and servers. It was kind of cool, and we always made the local paper.
I felt terrible, because in all the melodrama of moving to Mac’s place, I’d totally spaced asking Posey to the big dance. I sucked.
Releasing her hand, I wrapped my arm around her waist and tugged her away from the auditorium door. “Come here.”
“What the…” She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone saw us. I pulled her around the side of the building to the treed area at the edge of the school property. “Practice starts in five minutes.”
“I know. I’ll be quick.” I pulled her into a thicket of cedar trees where most kids went to have quick make-out sessions between classes. “I just need to ask you something.”
“Wow. So this is where you take all your girlfriends.” She looked around, a strand of her black hair escaping from its braid and hanging across her face. A strip of black against the white of her skin. Hot.
“Stop it. I do not.”
Posey looked at me through the corner of her eye. “Whatever, liar face.”
At least she was smiling again. “Okay,” I confessed. “Maybe once or twice.”
“Maddie?” She made a face.
“No.” I’d never brought Maddie out here. That would’ve ruined it for me. “Gretchen Powell. Ninth grade.”
“That’s it?”
“Fine. Isabel Judkins. Tenth grade. Twice.”
Posey went to shove me. “What a man whore!”
I caught her arms and pulled her body close to mine. “Reformed man whore,” I whispered, before kissing her softly. “Po, I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted lately.”
