And even though I’m home, I still can’t risk unpacking him. Blythe just proved that much.
The longer I stare at that bare dresser top, the harder my heart slams against my chest. Yes, part of it stems from hurt. But I’m finding rage to be far more accessible.
Save for Trent, every last reason for this—for me feeling unwelcomed in my own home, for me being tortured foryears—can be found downstairs.
CHAPTER 8
TROUBLEMAKER
JUNE, 4 YEARS AGO
One week into summer,and I’m already seeing how the next three months will play out. The Freshman-soon-to-be-Sophomore class trip to Italy started yesterday, which meant everyone (save for the south side residents who couldn’t afford it) is likely already in Venice. So, why am I lying in my bedroom devouring a buttered bagel and watchingParks and Recreruns?
Well, funny story.
Okay, maybe not ‘funny’ per se (a.k.a.at all), but I’m looking for a silver lining.
Mrs. O’Keefe, one of the trip’s chaperones, had the brilliant idea to randomly assign “travel buddies” for our class. Not only would this person be the individual with whom you shared a hotel room, but you wouldn’t be allowed to stray from the group to use the bathroom unless you had your “buddy.”
We’d all received emails the day after school let out with our itineraries and “travel buddy” pairings. I had been assigned with Sienna’s right-hand girl, Olivia Bouchard. Not ideal, but I could live with it. Except, since there was an odd number of students, one of us would be assigned to a chaperone…which was what happened to Sienna.
To say the Queen Bee was pissed would be like saying Godzilla’s been known to damage a building or two.
She demanded to be paired with Olivia, and Mrs. O’Keefe would only agree to make the switch ifIwas okay with it. Yeah, not a tough decision. I would have been more than happy switching places, so long as it kept me off Sienna’s radar. As of right now, I doubt Sienna could even pick my face out of a lineup. And I’d like to keep it that way.
I still remember the wrath she had exacted on Heather O’Donnell in seventh grade when Sienna brought a designer handbag to school that hadn’t been released to the general public yet. What was Heather’s mistake? Owning that very same purse. Sienna hadn’t been as special as she thought, and no one—and I meanno one—could get away with making her feel “less than.”
At the end of P.E. second hour, I went into the locker room to find Heather in tears, cradling the tattered remains of her handbag. Not only had Sienna broken into the locker and cut up Heather’s purse, but she’d also taken scissors to Heather’s cashmere sweater and even stolen the diamond bracelet that her grandmother had gifted her for her birthday.
And that had been payment for upsetting Sienna for one morning over a fashion accessory.
Imagining the retribution Sienna would exact for making her Italy trip less than idyllic…
I shudder to think.
Despite my email to Mrs. O’Keefe stating that I was perfectly fine with the switch, she still called our house, having come to the obvious conclusion that I felt pressured into making the decision by Sienna.
And wouldn’t you know it? Blythe just couldn’t resist interfering, going so far as to tell Sienna’s mother that I wasn’tokay with the change. Sure enough, the message was relayed to the Queen Bee, and my life officially ended.
When Dad came home, I pleaded with him to help, to call Mrs. O’Keefe and smooth things over, but like always, he consulted Blythe for some “womanly wisdom,” despite the fact she was part of the problem.
And, of course, Blythe came back with the same argument: that this was simply about me needing to be more assertive, that I couldn’t always hide from the issue.
She doesn’t understand Sienna. She can’t wrap her head around the idea that a fifteen-year-old cheerleader can bedangerous.
At this point, I wouldn’t put it past the Untouchables to get away with literal murder if Jase Rivers is any indicator. It’s not like I keep up with gossip around here, but even I heard the rumor circulating this past week about his little run-in with the law. Any other teenager caught driving without a license would find himself up Shit Creek. Being caught while also intoxicated? Oh, being without a paddle would be the least of his problems. Sure, he’s the son of a congressman, but even that wouldn’t have been enough to bury the story. Being connected with the Hawthornes and Eastons, however, seemed to be all the currency he needed, because there hadn’t been so much as a police report filed.
Great people to have in your corner when your back is against the ropes, but when you’re on the other side of that fighting ring? Yeah, not so much.
Still, Blythe wouldn’t relent.“If Ali doesn’t stand up for herself now, these girls will walk all over her.”
Yeah, except I’m perfectly fine with being walked all over if it means avoiding beingrunover by Sienna’s car!
Blythe couldn’t be deterred, and—shocker to no one—Dad took her side.
Sure, I wanted to go more than anything, but I also knew it wouldn’t be worth the hell I’d be put through.
So what did I do?
