I can’t help but laugh. “Trust me, neither of us thinks about the other in that way.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Firstly, he has a deep-seated penchant for blondes—”
“Which I can rectify,” she says, twirling a lot of her pink hair.
“Secondly, and most importantly, he’s jailbait.”
“Bullshit.” She laughs, but her jaw practically unhinges when she sees I’m not. “You can’t be serious. He looks older than us!”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t change the fact he doesn’t turn eighteen until September. So unless you want to spend your summer behind bars, I suggest looking elsewhere for a good time,” I say as we head inside. The moment the front door shuts behind us, my stepmom’s voice calls down to me in question from somewhere upstairs.
A few seconds later, she hustles out to the top of the landing, trying to put the post of a gold hoop into her ear. “Where have you been? I called you over an hour ago.”
“I was at work.” It’s supposed to be a statement, but I can’t help my inflection, making it sound more like a question. My spidey senses and paranoia are dialed up to eleven, because nothing about this is reassuring.
Blythe is always dressed nice, but right now, she’s decked out to the nines, and she’s simultaneously uppity and high-strung, even more so than usual.
“I thought you said the library doesn’t have any openings.” Is it just me, or does she soundhappyabout that fact?
“They don’t. I’m back at Castelli’s.”
Cue the frown.
Blythe does one even better. Shegroans. “How many times have your father and I told you we don’t like you being down there? It’s right near the south end of town, and all those hoodlums with tattoos and body piercings work there.”
I barely manage to hold back my eye roll. “It’s almost a mile from the south end, it’s still on Main Street, and the only person with tattoos and piercings is Reed. Not to mention,you’rethe one who got me the job there in the first place.”
I can’t be sure if the clarification falls on deaf ears or not, because Blythe calls down the hallway, telling my father to start getting ready.
That is more than my cue to flee.
I turn to head back out the door, fresh clothes and a shower be damned, but Blythe calls out to me the instant my hand reaches for the front doorknob.
“Ali, hurry and get cleaned up. The Comptons are coming into town, and we’re meeting them at the country club in an hour.”
I try to tell her I already have plans with Maggie, but she won’t hear it. “Do you guysreallyneed me to be there? I mean, Vanessa’s a lot better at the whole meet-and-greet thing than I am.”
Blythe’s scowl only deepens. “Ali, you’re part of this family. It doesn’t reflect well on us if you’re always missing. It looks like we have something to hide. Besides, your brother’s also coming with Lauren, and she’s bringing her brother.” It seems we can agree on something, because Blythe’s expression sours even more at that last part. “From what others have said, it seems no one got to properly meet him at the engagement party.”
Maggie chokes on a laugh, trying to bury it into a cough, because that’s not entirely correct. One of usdidmeet Jase that night. Though, there was nothing ‘proper’ about it.
It appears Blythe is still trying to avoid anyone figuring out who he is, because I overheard her talking with Lauren this morning, where she oh-so-innocently suggested that maybe Jase introduce himself using Lauren’s last name to “avoid any confusion.”
Yes, because getting grown adults to understand the concept of half-siblings is clearly the issue here, and not the fact that Jase’s actual last name is considered “tainted.”
Unfortunately, Blythe knows how to sell a steaming pile of bullshit, and the last thing Lauren probably wants is to get on her soon-to-be mother-in-law’s bad side. I left the house before hearing Lauren’s response, but I wouldn’t be too surprised to find out that the Stepmonster managed to guilt Lauren into mentioning the idea to Jase.
I have no idea what the hell Maggie will do the next time she sees the aforementioned jackass, but good or bad, I need a wing woman right about now. “Can Maggie come?”
As per usual, Blythe uses her tried-and-true tactic of pretending she doesn’t hear the question, telling me to shower and change before disappearing into the upstairs hallway.
When I getup to my bedroom, I find an unwanted gift laid out for me. The Stepmonster had gone out on a little shopping adventure, it seems, because the gift is a little black cocktail dress. Lovely, I’m apparently her new mannequin. I lift the garment from the bed, getting a better look at the design, and there’s something strikingly familiar about it.
I roll my eyes, because God forbid Blythe actually waste money on me.
The dress is my sister’s, or at least itwas. She wore it three Easters ago, and it’s evidently “out of season” if Vanessa decided to get rid of it. My sister has a couple of inches on me, but with my weight gain, I’m actually curvier than her now. Thankfully, the material is forgiving, so it should fit. And despite my annoyance with Blythe, I can still admit, like everything else in Vanessa’s closet, the dress is cute. It has a balletcore style to it, with a halter neckline and a-line skirt, falling just shy of my knees.
