Blythe’s composure slips as she gets up and not-so-gracefully storms off into the living room for the control console. The music suddenly cuts back to the classical number she’d previously been listening to, and the volume is dialed back to the appropriate level.
As expected, her smile is once again plastered to her face when she reemerges with an apology. The moment she sits back down at the head of the table, however, the music spikes in volume and begins a new number.
Evanescence’ s “Everybody’s Fool.”
“Ali!” Blythe points toward the kitchen, trying and failing to hide her rage. “Would you mind helping me?”
Oh crap.
Dad rises from his seat just as I do, and he pardons us.
The second we’re out of sight, Blythe whirls on me, all too ready to play judge, jury, and executioner. Dad tries to calm her down, but she’s past the point of pacifying.
“I know it’s her! Ali’s always the one using the speakers. She’s doing this to get back at me—”
“How? Telepathically?” I deadpan, showing her my blatantlyemptyhands.
“You had your hands under the table,” she hisses.
Either Jase is a mind reader or he has the world’s best timing, because just as she makes the remark, the song changes again.
With my bare hands still in the air.
I’m pretty sure Jase is now just screwing with my stepmom as Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” blares throughout the downstairs. The title is too perfect, and the raunchy lyrics?
Oh, they have Blythe turning red, especially once she tries turning off the entire speaker system, only to find it won’t.
After another minute, the lights in the entire downstairs go out, and it’s only then that we hear heels clicking up from the basement.
Vanessa emerges just as the senator and his wife enter the main hall, clearly baffled. Always the fast-on-her-feet respectable young lady she is, my sister explains that she flipped the circuit breaker and offers an excuse about the Bluetooth probably getting its signals crossed with one of the neighbors. “It’s happened before, and it probably won’t be the last time.”
Since it’s summer, plenty of sun is coming in through the front windows, so we don’t need the lights on to finish the meal. Once we do, everybody gravitates to the back patio…save for me.
“I believe you’ve had enough excitement for one night,” Blythe says sweetly. Too bad her eyes say, “I’m going to wring your neck.”
Still, I can’t bite back my smile as I head up the stairs.
It’s tempting to climb out my window and go to the party, especially since it’s still so early, but I know the risk would be reckless. Blythe is just aching for a reason to punish me, and I’m not about to make it that easy.
Slipping out of the blouse and dress pants I’d been forced to wear, I happily settle onto my mattress in my pajamas, still grinning like an idiot as I reach for the TV remote.
My fingers freeze on the edge of my nightstand when I catch sight of a bright pink square in my periphery. I sit up and push my pillows aside to find it’s a sticky note tacked to my headboard. It isn’t unusual to see one around here; I have them shoved away into books, drawers, and folders all over the room, and stragglers sometimes get stuck to random spots.
It’s not until I peel it off that I realize the handwritingisn’tmine.
Dear Birdie,
Don’t you fucking dare let anyone make you feel less than. You’re perfect in every way that matters.
-J
CHAPTER 13
DONE FOR ME
PRESENT
Avoidance isthe name of the game, and I’ve perfected it into an art form.
