by L A Cotton
Dad moved in front of me, shielding me from her view. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she was the one he was protecting... from me.
“You ambushed me.” I stared up at him, blinking away the tears.
“I knew if I told you, you wouldn't come. Please, Eloise,” his voice was quiet. “I'd really like you to meet her. She's important to me.”
More important than me?
The words were right there, on the tip of my tongue. But I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything but let him guide me into a chair as he moved around to the blonde-haired woman watching our exchange with caution in her eyes.
“You look lovely, darling.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek and it was like a knife to my heart.
“Lo, I'd like you to meet Stella Drake. Stella, my daughter, Lo.”
“Hello, Lo, it’s lovely to finally meet you.”
Finally.
There was that word again. The word my grandparents had used.
Dad sat down across from me and next to Stella. I didn't miss the way his hand patted hers, or the longing in his eyes as he gazed at her.
Fuck.
He loved her.
My father wasn't just seeing a new woman, he'd fallen in love with one.
“Lo?” The hard edge to his voice had my eyes widening.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said this is Stella.” He gave me a pointed look.
“Hello,” I croaked.
“I love your shirt, Lo. It really complements your hair and skin. Robert didn't tell me how beautiful you were.”
What was I supposed to say? That I had my mum's eyes and complexion? Did she want to hear that? To hear all about my dead mother?
Thankfully, I didn't have to answer. The waitress arrived to take our drink order and Dad made light conversation. It was like a dream—an out of body experience. They talked like two old friends and I realised Stella Drake was someone who knew my father before he moved to England. Before he met Mum and got married and had a family. This woman sitting in front of me with her perfect hair and warm smile was privy to a man I'd never met.
The knife twisted.
“How are you finding school?” She attempted to pull me back into the conversation. “It can't have been easy?”
I shrugged, picking the hem of the black tablecloth. “It's been okay, I guess. My cousins have been very welcoming.” I swallowed down the lump.
Something flashed over her face and she smiled again. “Good, that's good. At least you have... people.”
What the hell did that mean?
Once again, we were interrupted by the waitress. She delivered our drinks and took our order. I didn't miss the way Dad ordered for Stella, and I couldn't help but wonder who this man before me was. He certainly wasn't the man I knew.
My dad.
Our food arrived, providing a buffer between Stella's questions and Dad's attempt at building bridges. As far as I was concerned he was trying to salvage something that was ruined before it ever got started.
He’d set me up.
Instead of asking me to meet her, he’d forced her on me. I wasn't ready. It was too much, too soon.
I pushed the chicken parmigiana around my plate, unable to stomach it.
“Stella is an editor for the local paper,” Dad said.
“That's nice.”
“It pays the bills and means I can work from home sometimes so I'm around for Beth.”
“Who's Beth?”
The colour drained from Dad's face and he placed down his cutlery and Stella let out a garbled sound. “Oh, I'm sorry, I thought Robert had told you. Beth is my daughter, she's six.”
The knife hit an artery, and I felt myself plummet. The blood drained from my face.
“She's great, Lo. You'll love her.”
I stared at my father as I calmly placed down my own cutlery and met Stella's uncertain gaze. “Actually, he didn't tell me. Until last weekend, I didn't even know anything about you. Now, if you'll both excuse me I have somewhere to be.”
Stella let out a shaky breath as I rose from the table and walked away. Dad didn't follow. I didn't expect him to. After all, he had Stella to comfort.
“Wow, Lo, I had no idea. I'm so sorry, I just thought that perhaps they'd separated and you didn't want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, well.” My gaze lowered, matching my voice. “It’s not exactly a conversation starter.”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine…” Laurie’s voice trailed off. “I’m here, if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I smiled at her but felt the sadness in it.
I'd left the restaurant and called Laurie to come get me. Now we were at school for the opening game pep rally. Girls had painted their faces red and white, the team colours; and the crackle of anticipation and the sound of blow horns filled the air. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Back home, school sports teams were lucky to pull a crowd of twenty, but from the sea of kids in their war paint it looked like everyone had turned up to show their support for the football team. I was just relieved it was outside and that we weren’t all crammed into the gym.
“Come on, let's find the others.” Laurie grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd. A couple of people smiled and said hello, their faces vaguely familiar from classes.
We reached Autumn and the others just as the band burst into chorus.
“Wow, its loud,” I yelled, earning me an eye roll from them.
“No band in England?”
I shook my head, jamming my hands into my lightweight jacket. “Not like this, no.”
From our position in the bleachers, we had a good view of the football field where the band marched in neat rows while the cheerleaders did their thing. I spotted Macey then Caitlin Holloway. Her blonde hair whipped around her face as she twisted and twirled revelling in the attention. Macey looked less enthused but still moved gracefully. Organised sports were never really my thing, and my eyes moved on to the sidelines where the team were gathered in full kit.
“There's Kyle.” Autumn nudged Laurie, with a giggle, and even I could appreciate their infatuation. The boy looked good, the whole team did. Until my gaze landed on JB and a shudder worked its way up my spine. Laurie had told me he was harmless, but there was something about him. Something that made my skin crawl.
The band finished and a man in a red and white baseball cap, emblazoned with a W, stepped up onto the podium, silencing the crowd. Laurie elbowed me and winked and went back to watching. He talked about team spirit and hard work and kicking ass and by the end of it, the crowd was in a frenzy again. Even Autumn and Laurie were bouncing on their feet, cheering and chanting.
I didn't understand a lot of what Coach Munford said, but it was hard not to be swept away with the atmosphere. I felt it, the thirst for the win. It oozed from the team, reflected back at them from the crowd. Dad and Stella Drake became a distant memory as I watched Kyle jump on his teammates, enacting some kind of male bonding ritual. A hand slipped through my arm and Laurie nestled closer. “And now,” she said, “we party.”
~
This party was different to the previous two I'd attended. Girls were dressed down in team colours, some in football jerseys. But even though the dress code was lower key, it was just as crazy. It was at a boy called Brendon Palmer's house, right next to the ocean. I'd thought it couldn't get much more extravagant than the Holloway's, I was wrong. His house backed onto a private part of the beach and there was a big bonfire. Laurie informed me his family were huge football fans and it was customary for the Palmer's to host the opening game party. The youngest of four brothers, Brendon lived, breathed, and slept football, and his parents were all too willing to host.
“Aren't you even a little bit curious?”
“Huh?” My head snapped over to Laurie's. We'd found a few lawn chairs and dragged them to the edge of the beach.
“Where Devon is.” Her brow lifted a little.
&nb
sp; “Hmm, where is Devon?” It hadn’t even crossed my mind he wasn’t here, but then since walking away from him at school the other day, he’d been avoiding me.
“Giving you space.” She smirked. “After your little outburst the other day.”
“Oh, come on.” I kicked my legs out in front of me and leaned back. “You deserved it and you know it.”
Laurie held up her bottle. “True, but you underestimate your cousins’ position in Wicked Bay High. Look around you, Lo.” She swept her hand through the air. “It’s always about money in Wicked Bay. Who’s got it, who hasn’t. But it’s more with your cousins. Because of Alec Prince. Because of who he is. Our parents want to be in his circle and their kids want to be in Maverick’s.”
“I don't want to talk about them. Or my dad. Or anything that reminds me this really is my life now. I just want to drink and dance.” And forget.
Her eyes flashed with mischief. “That, we can do. But not too much, Kyle will—”
“Laurie!”
“Fine, fine. No more talk of them tonight. Just don't let me get drunk and go with him, okay?”
“Promise.”
I still hadn't cleared the air with Kyle. But I had bigger problems to deal with—like Stella Drake. Ugh. Annoyed at myself for letting my mind go there, I tipped back my beer and finished it off, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I need another.”
I stood up and Laurie's eyes bugged. “Lo,” she warned. But I was already moving. Maybe it was foolish breaking the one promise I'd made Dad before moving here. But he'd broken promises too. Besides, Kyle wouldn't be far away, lurking in the shadows, spying on my every move.
The path up to the Palmer's house was littered with empty cups and I wondered who would clean up tomorrow. Although they probably had a cleaner too. From the size of their house, they probably had a whole team of them.
“Stone,” a deep voice said as I reached the back door. I swung around with a sigh, my eyes landing on JB as he sat on a low wall, clutching a bottle in his hand. “Didn't expect to see you here.”
I don't know if it was the adrenaline from the pep rally or the couple of beers in my system, but I closed the distance and tilted my head to one side. “Well, here I am.”
A wicked grin tugged at his lips as he stood up, his biceps straining underneath his jersey. “Here you are indeed.”
“Well, thanks for the chat,” I said. “But I need a refill.” I waved my empty at him and turned on my heels.
“Stone, wait up.” He was behind me, huge and imposing. I went rigid. Shit. Why had I engaged? His fingers swept my hair off my shoulder, lingering. His touch felt violating. I couldn't explain it but it felt wrong. About to shirk him off and get the hell out of there, a saccharine sweet voice called, “JB, come swim with us. We need warming up.”
I rolled my eyes, stifling a groan. He didn't move straight away and, for a second, I thought he might turn them down in favour of me. To my relief, he didn't. “I'll be right in,” he said in a husky voice.
It was my signal to get out of there. My body lurched back into action, and I slipped into the house. The kitchen was full of bodies, and every surface was covered with drinks or snacks. Dragging air into my lungs, I pushed forward, helping myself to a handful of crisps as I scanned the room for beer, but someone stepped in front of me. “We need to talk.” Kyle grimaced.
“No, we don't. I'm here to party, not talk.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” I snapped, barging him out of the way and helping myself to a beer.
“Lo, come on. This is me.”
“If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. Give her time.”
“Seriously? She's fifteen. If he did something—”
“Kyle.” I swung around almost colliding with his solid frame. “You're only a year older. Did you forget that in the middle of your knight in shining armour quest?”
“Yeah but she's a girl.”
“I'll pretend I didn't hear that.” I moved around him and headed for the door, but he was quicker and cut me off at the end of the island.
“She's really okay?”
“She'll be fine. And maybe if you tried talking to her instead of treating her like a child, she'd come to you with stuff.”
He raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Okay, okay.” His gaze slid to my drink. “Now, how many of those have you had?”
“Bye, Kyle.” I ducked my head and hurried out of there. He was worse than... well, worse than a dad who actually cared. I hadn't heard from my own father since I fled the restaurant.
I swallowed a mouthful of beer, letting the sharp taste wash away my own feelings of bitterness. It wasn't that I didn't want Dad to be happy, of course I did. But he’d lied, and for all I knew, this whole move was a sham. It wasn't a fresh start for us—it was a chance for him to move closer to his new whatever she was.
Something pricked at the back of my mind.
What if—
No.
He wouldn't.
He loved Mum.
They were happily married.
But this was all so sudden. Much too sudden for a man grieving.
Oh, God.
I ground to a halt and downed the rest of the bottle. Beer wasn't going to cut it, I needed something much, much stronger.
~
“Kyle help me...” the girl sounded annoyed but I couldn't figure out why. My head lolled backwards, smacking against something hard, and a groan of pain gurgled in my throat.
“She weighs a ton, what the fuck did she drink? And why weren't you watching her?”
“Seriously, Kyle, I'm not her keeper. She wanted to cut loose, and I don't blame her after what her dad did.”
“What her dad did?”
My body felt like it was being dragged in two.
“Oh crap, maybe I shouldn't have said anything.”
“Laurie...” Now the boy sounded annoyed. Did I know him? Was that Kyle?
“Kyle.”
“Ssh, Lo, we've got you. Just sleep it off, okay.”
“Sleep, I like sleep.” The words came out slurred and someone chuckled.
“Okay, get the door.”
I landed with a thud against soft leather and alcohol sloshed around in my insides. “Ugh,” I groaned, clutching my stomach. “I don't feel so good.”
“If she pukes back there, you can clean it up.”
“Me? It's not my fault.”
“Did you try to stop her?”
“You have met her, right? She's not one to fall in line, Kyle. And she was hurting, so back the hell off!”
There was a distant grumble. It reverberated into my body. Another door slammed and everything went black.
“What the fuck happened...”
I teetered on the edge of darkness. Something had pulled me out of its claws. Strong hands cushioned my head and slid underneath my legs.
I was floating.
Up.
Up.
Up.
“Drank too much.”
“You don't say.”
“Maybe I should—”
Growl.
Did someone growl?
A door slammed. And another. The noise trying to drag me back from the darkness. But it was no use. I gave over to it once more.
“Do you want me to—”
“I got it.”
“Whatever you say, Prince.”
Prince? There was a Prince here? I hope I looked okay.
“What am I going to do with you?”
Who?
Me?
Darkness.
The hands disappeared and my body began to fall.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Until my back hit something soft. I sighed and then hiccupped.
Gross.
“Jesus,” a voice said. Was that the Prince? I really should have made more effort to speak. Say something, anything. But my lips wouldn't work. They felt detached from
my face.
“Lo? Do you need something? Water?”
I tried. Imagined opening my mouth, saying the words... but nothing happened. I no longer had control over my body.
Someone smoothed my hair out of my face. There were fingers. Long, deft fingers. I blinked my eyes open trying to fight my way through the haze. Two inky black pools shone back at me. Then I was moving, being dragged onto my side.
“I'll be right here, okay?” Warmth connected with my forehead. Soft and lingering.
Then the Prince was gone.
~
I woke with hair matted across my face, dribble crusted on the corner of my mouth.
Ugh.
My head splintered into a thousand pieces as I opened my eyes and tried to get my bearings. What the hell had happened last night? I expected it to all come flooding back but it didn't. The memories were there, I felt them, but they remained tightly locked behind the haze of an epic hangover.
Slipping my hand under the covers, I made a tent and peeked down. Still fully clothed, I breathed a sigh of relief. Clothes were a good thing. Or were they? Had I gotten so drunk that someone had to put me to bed?
Shame washed over me, and I flopped onto my back and listened for any signs of life, but was met with eerie silence. Sunshine poured into the room through the blinds and I rubbed a hand across my eyes vaguely able to recall the night before.
There had been dinner with my dad and a woman? St… Stella Drake.
My stomach rumbled and then churned violently. I threw off the covers and staggered into the small bathroom, dropping to my knees.
Oh God. I remembered.
Dad had taken me to a fancy restaurant and ambushed me.
I retched into the bowl, dry heaving until my throat burned. But nothing came up as I remembered clearly the way he'd looked at her.
Stella Drake.
The woman my father was in love with.
I slipped off the bowl and laid face down on the cool tiles, pressing my cheek to the marble.
Dad was in love.
How had this happened?
More importantly, how had I not known?
My phone blared from somewhere inside my bedroom but I didn't move. I couldn't, as I tried to piece together the rest of the night. I'd fled dinner. Laurie picked me up. There was a pep rally at the high school. A party.