In the parking lot, I can’t help but laugh when I see my aunt and Sunday waiting outside the car for me, a single cupcake with bright pink frosting in my best friend’s hand and a cheerful bunch of flowers in my aunt’s.
“Congratulations!” they yell in unison when I approach them, each holding out their gifts. Burying my nose in the flowers, I breathe in their light, fresh fragrance, and then turn to taste some of the icing from the top of the cupcake.
“What would you two have done if I failed?” I ask, licking the sugary pink from my lips with an affectionate smile.
“Eaten the cupcake ourselves and taken you out for shots?” Sunday suggests, making Cecily snort.
“Why don’t you ask Roxy and Aylie if they want to come over after class? The four of you can catch up and gorge yourselves on pizza and junk food.” My aunt sees my rebuttal of her suggestion coming a mile away, so she heads it off before I can say a word. “Sometimes hanging out with your girlfriends is the best medicine for guy troubles. If nothing else, you can plot Poe’s demise and the best way to dispose of the body,” she jokes, raising her hands defensively and laughing.
Sunday gives me a pleadingly hopeful look, and I don’t have the heart to say no. She’s done so much for me, the least I can do in return is agree to a night with our girlfriends.
“Fine. Text them and find out if they want to come over,” I tell her. “But I reserve the right to choose ALL of the pizza toppings.” Having had a few pies with me in New York, she knows full well I’m a loose cannon in the topping department and narrows her tawny eyes at me suspiciously.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” she asks.
“Oh, most definitely,” I answer with a bright grin.
She reluctantly agrees and sends her messages, the responses from the other half of our foursome coming almost immediately.
Girls’ night, here I come.
Roxy and Aylie show up together right after school.
“We’re so glad you’re back!” Roxy squeals and drops her coat and bag on the plush padded bench in the front entryway. She gives me a hard hug and moves over to give Sunday one as well. Aylie, being the quieter of the two, uses a little less physical force in her hug, but the emotion is just as strong.
“Are you doing okay, Stella? We were really worried about you after what happened at the Hallidays’,” Aylie asks, the concern shining through her words. I try to reassure her that I’ll be okay, but I’m not sure she fully believes me. Before we can head upstairs to my room, Cecily summons the four of us into the kitchen.
“Okay girls, I have an announcement to make. Since somebody decided not to say anything, I’ve decided to do it myself.” She clears her throat like she’s about to make a royal proclamation. “On this day, eighteen years ago, one Stella Evangeline Bradleigh made her appearance in the world.” All eyes in the room swing toward me in surprise, and I grimace.
So apparently she did know. I guess ignoring it isn’t an option anymore.
“What?!” Sunday bellows. “It’s your eighteenth birthday, and you never told me? What the hell is wrong with you?” She lunges and traps me in an exuberant hug. The other girls join in as well, and we become a human hug knot in the middle of the kitchen, with all of them singing a seriously off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’.
“I was hoping to ignore it, honestly. Birthdays haven’t really been my most favorite thing for the last few years, so it’s really no big deal.” I explain sheepishly, hoping I can still escape this with minimal fanfare.
“No big deal? Shut yo’ mouth,” Sunday says, momentarily taken aback by my lack of excitement. “You’re eighteen and officially an adult! That’s a pretty momentous occasion.” She plants her hands on her hips and tries to stare me down. I shoot her a look that tries to convey even just a sliver of what might be causing my reluctance to celebrate this year, and her face falls as she remembers everything that’s happened lately. “Right, okay, well, we can still celebrate quietly, just us girls.” Patting my arm, she leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I personally think your birth is something that should be celebrated.”
“Awww shucks. Thanks, Sun.”
“We have birthday cheesecake for after dinner, but I have a gift I’d like to give you now if that’s okay with you?” My aunt asks hopefully.
“Dammit! We don’t have presents for you!” Sunday groans.
“Why would you? You didn’t even know it was my birthday until three minutes ago.” I look each one of them in the face in turn. “Besides, you guys being here, being able to call each of you my friend, that’s present enough for me.” Facing my aunt, I reach for her hand. “That goes for you too, Aunty. Having you in my life, and being here at Tweedvale is more than enough. You didn’t have to get me anything else.”
Brushing away a rogue tear, she walks to her purse on the island and digs through until she finds what she’s looking for.
“Stella, I’m so happy to have found you and to have you here with me. You are so much more than I could have ever imagined.” She takes my hand and turns it palm up. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” I feel the cold metal in my hand, and my pulse starts hammering faster before I look down. I hold her gaze for a few seconds, my eyes wide until she nods and smiles. Sweeping my eyes downward, I see not a fob for a fancy new car but actual keys to a badass old one.
“No way. Are you sure?” I ask, my voice reverent. “I know how much you love that car.”
“Which makes it fitting that the person I love most in the world is driving it.” The giant goofy grin on my face is making my cheeks ache, and for the life of me, I can’t stop it.
“You got a car! That’s so awesome!” Aylie hugs me. “Can we see it?” We all traipse out to the garage, where my beautiful birthday present sits in all her freshly washed and waxed glory.
“Seriously?” Sunday shrieks before throwing her arms around me and then around my aunt, unable to contain her excitement. “That is so sexy.” The girls climb in and look around, chattering at each other while I stand back with my aunt.
“Are you really sure? This is a huge gift.” I ask.
“Absolutely. As soon as I saw your face when we lifted off the cover, I knew she was meant to be yours.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Treat her well, and be careful.”
“Dude, you are so picking me up for school tomorrow,” Sunday calls from the front seat. I laugh, and Cecily and I join my friends before we all go back to the house for dinner.
I had debated not telling the girls everything that happened, but Sunday convinced me they’d find out anyway, and it would be better if the news came from me rather than one of the guys. The four of us set up camp on my bedroom floor in a giant nest of blankets and pillows, and Cecily ordered us two large pizzas as promised. I was nice enough to get anchovies, pineapple, and hot peppers on only one of them, much to Sunday’s relief. Roxy has eaten as much of that one as I have, so at least somebody appreciates my salty-sweet-spicy combo.
The news about my mom brought tears to everybody’s eyes, and both Roxy and Aylie expressed their condolences. Then I told them about Poe’s part in the whole thing.
“He did what?” Roxy asks, incredulous. Her hand is stalled partway to her mouth, the half-eaten slice of pizza she’s holding temporarily forgotten. Aylie’s mouth is frozen in a stunned ‘o’, and her emerald eyes are wide.
“Rox, your anchovies are about to slide into your lap,” Sunday cautions while handing her a paper towel. Setting the slice down on her plate, Roxy wipes her hands and picks up her root beer, taking a long swig before speaking.
“How in the hell did we not know about this? I mean, I get that he’s the Halliday Heir and whatever, but we don’t keep things from each other. When your aunt asked him to go to Georgia, the rest of us should’ve been looped in. That’s how we’ve always done things.” She stares down at her hands in her lap, suddenly sounding hurt. “Stronger together than we are apart.”
I realize then just how
much the Heirs mean to each other and how they will forever be entwined in each other’s lives.
We, Stella, we will forever be entwined. You’re a part of them now, too.
Poe’s bullshit hurt me, and it stung badly, but by him doing the favor for my aunt at all and not telling the rest of the Heirs about it, he hurt them too.
“I know it probably won’t make you feel any better, Roxy, but I don’t think he told anybody about it. Not Payne, or the rest of the guys, or even his dad. Holt knows now, according to Poe, but I don’t think he found out until after what happened to my mom.”
Why am I making excuses for him?
“Don’t defend him, Stella. Keeping the secret about your mom from you for a month is inexcusable. Add his behavior when you and Sunday were gone, and the guy deserves one hell of a junk punch.” Roxy surprises me with her reaction to my words.
“What do you mean, his behavior when we were gone?” I ask, my brows furrowed.
“Uh, yeah. I want to hear this too,” Sunday chimes in, sitting up and tucking her hair behind her ears. Roxy looks like she realizes now might not have been the best time to let that tidbit of information slip, but she knows it’s too late to turn back now.
“To be honest, none of us saw a whole lot of him or Payne outside of school while you two were in New York. They spent a lot of time together, just the two of them. There were days they’d show up for class, and I’m pretty sure they were still drunk from the night before. They both looked sad and lost and miffed—like they couldn’t believe you two had left without saying anything.”
I feel a tiny pang of guilt at that.
“After you’d been gone about a week, I was late getting to school because of an early morning dentist appointment. It was between classes, so the halls were empty, and after I grabbed my books out of my locker, I had to walk past the guys’ lockers to get to my third-period math class.” She hesitates before taking a deep breath and continuing. “When I rounded the corner, I saw Poe leaning with his back against his locker. There was a cheerleader stuck to his chest like Velcro, swooning over him and running her claws up and down the front of his pants.”
Annnnd that tiny pang of guilt I felt is now replaced with pissed off disbelief, and I’ll admit, a healthy dose of jealousy.
“As soon as he saw me, he shoved her off and tried to make like it was no big deal. I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but I think he might have been at least half drunk.” She looks at me, apologetically.
“What the hell? So Stella’s gone for five minutes, and he’s already letting some chick grope him in public?” Sunday’s face has turned an unhealthy shade of red, and she looks like she might pop. “I’m going to kill him.”
Yeah, you’re going to need to get in line for that honor.
“Look, I left. He’s technically an adult, so he can do whatever he wants.” I try to play it off like no big deal, while inside, I feel like I got kicked in the metaphorical balls.
“Oh, hell no,” Aylie pipes up, and we all turn to look at her in surprise. Out of the four of us, she’s by far the calmest and most non-confrontational, so hearing her get mad is new to me. “Feeling like shit doesn’t come with a free pass to act like a douchebag.” She sits up straighter, her green eyes flashing. “I think he might need a little reminder of exactly what he’s missing out on.” After we all get over the initial shock of Aylie’s outburst, we all look at each other speculatively for a minute. A sly smile breaks out across Sunday’s face.
“What sort of reminder did you have in mind?”
Chapter Eighteen
Since I was awake long before my alarm this morning, I decided to take some extra time getting ready. After an hour in the bathroom, I’m showered and ready. My hair falls just past my chin in its angled bob cut, a smooth, glossy, black curtain. Add in light, smokey eye makeup and some semi-sheer cherry red lip gloss, and my outside looks a hell of a lot better than my insides feel. I toss my phone in my purse, grab my backpack and keys, and make my way down to the kitchen. School itself is likely going to be a nightmare. I’ll admit the excitement about getting to drive my birthday present is tempering my anxiety about seeing Poe, though.
“You’re up early,” I say, walking into the kitchen to see my aunt at the island drinking coffee and scribbling notes on a pad of paper. Setting her pen down, she looks up at me with a smile.
“I wanted to make sure I saw you before you left for school this morning. Did you and the girls have fun last night?” she asks.
“We did. Thanks for suggesting it.”
“I’m glad. You deserve some fun.” She moves to get up from her barstool. “Are you hungry? I can make you some breakfast.” I stop her before she fully gets up, and she sits back down.
“I’m good.” Reaching into the fridge, I grab an apple and drop it in my purse. “I’m going to go and pick up Sunday.” On my way out of the kitchen, I stop and give my aunt a quick one-armed hug. “Thanks though, Aunty. See you after school.”
With that, I head out to the garage, and when I open the door, a thrill zings through me, looking at my new car. Setting my backpack on the rear seat and keeping my purse up front with me, I run my hands over the steering wheel, checking out the interior around me again. According to Cecily, most of it is original, but the one thing I’m glad isn’t is the sound system. My hand disappears into my purse, fishing for my phone. Finally finding it, I send Sunday a text that I’m on my way and connect the Bluetooth to the stereo she had updated last year.
The key slips smoothly into the ignition, and the engine catches with a growl, making goosebumps erupt along my arms and legs.
Has anyone ever had an orgasm from the sound of a car engine? Because I really think I could.
Opening the garage bay door with the remote Spry gave me, I put my new baby in gear and take a second to give thanks to the car gods for the sexy rumble surrounding me. My foot hits a little heavy on the gas, and I race down the long driveway, a massive grin on my face, and my anger and anxiety momentarily forgotten.
Sunday is waiting out front for me when I pull up to her house. She’s almost jumping up and down in excitement and wearing a grin very similar to mine.
“Dude! This is the hottest damn car,” she asserts as she throws her bag in the back and climbs into the front seat beside me. I waggle my eyebrows at her and rev the engine, and she bounces in her seat like a three-year-old on Santa’s knee. “Seriously, I know most people around here are all ‘blah, blah, look at my expensive brand new sports car’, but this,” she runs her hand over the black leather seat, “this is old school perfection. An OG badass ride.”
“OG, huh?” I laugh. “You listen to too much old school rap.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “OG or not, I still can’t believe Cecily gave it to me. She loves this car.”
“Yeah, well, she loves you more. And she knows you’ll take good care of it for her.” She reaches for my phone, turning it off and depositing it in my purse before setting up the Bluetooth on her phone to connect to the stereo.
“Hey! What the hell?”
“Shush. Old school playlist for an old school car, girlfriend,” she giggles above the opening of Joan Jett’s ‘I Hate Myself For Loving You’. She cranks up the volume, and both of us sing along as we head toward whatever's waiting for us at school, windows down, and the mild October breeze swirling around us.
We pull into the school parking lot with Aerosmith’s ‘Sweet Emotion’ playing. The music, coupled with the car’s throaty purr, has heads turning, including the small group leaning against one of the carved stone lions guarding the front steps. In a parking lot where BMWs, Porches, and Aston Martens with thumping sound systems are the norm, that’s no easy feat.
I find an empty spot, and Sunday gives me a reassuring smile as I wrestle with the anger and anxiety that have come flooding back and turned my stomach to a knotty mess. After a few deep breaths and encouraging words, we get out of the car and head for the school's front doors. Trying to st
ay as outwardly calm as possible, I focus on Aylie and Roxy as they break off from the rest of the Heirs and meet us at the bottom of the stairs.
Do not hyperventilate and pass out in front of Poe. No damsel in distress bullshit today.
“That certainly got his attention,” Roxy leans over and whispers in my ear.
We climb the wide stone steps to the entrance doors, and the weight of Poe’s stare as I pointedly ignore him is considerable. The roiling anger keeps my feet walking right on past him, even though there’s something else I feel hiding underneath it that I’m not willing to acknowledge.
The four of us girls walk through the doors and into the main hall, and I swear the groups of students milling around before class part like the Red Sea.
“Happy Tuesday, fuckers. We’re ba-a-a-ck,” Sunday singsongs quietly in my ear with a giggle.
As we make our way to the hallway that houses our lockers, I can sense more than hear the not so pleasant whispers from some of the students we pass, though they are outweighed by the others offering friendly smiles and hellos.
Sorting through my locker and pulling out what I need for morning classes, I know exactly when the guys are close without having to turn around. It’s happened every school day since I started here, so I should be mostly used to it by now. Today though, those tittering, adoring girls jockeying for a position none of them have a hope in hell at achieving is annoying me beyond belief. Just as I turn around, ready to fire a snide remark borne of my frustration and anger at Poe, the absolute last person I want to see stomps her way over to us and gets in my face.
“Look who decided to show up,” she crosses her arms and looks me up and down with her lip curled. “I still can’t believe Woodington let in a piece of low-class garbage like you. Things were so much better with you gone, you know. Way less dirty snatch stinking up the place,” she leans in and sneers, her face about an inch from mine.
Fractured Things (Folkestone Sins Book 2) Page 13