2 in the PINK
Page 27
“Philip,” my mother begins. She reaches out a hand and brushes her fingers over his. “I’m sure the girls will be perfectly fine. You went on a similar trip in your youth as well, didn’t you?”
Philip sighs. “Yes, Ava,” he answers, “but the world was such a different place back then…”
“That’s right,” Piper grins with opportunity. “You didn’t have cell phones with GPS permanently enabled at all times so your wonderful and trusting father could check in on you and track where you were whenever he wanted to.”
He lowers his eyes and glances at her over the rims of his bifocals. “You’ll have it turned on the entire time?” he asks.
“Every moment.”
I flex my jaw as she looks up at him with her little puppy dog eyes. What a bitch.
“Okay,” Philip gives in. “But I want a complete itinerary — on paper — with every train car you’re assigned to and every hotel you’re staying at. I want to be able to glance at it and know exactly where you are the entire time. Kapeesh?”
Piper beams. “It’s already on your desk, Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
Her eyes slowly move in my direction. They land on mine across the table and I hear her voice ringing out in my head.
Don’t fuck with me.
I sit back and take a sip of my drink. I chug it down in disappointment while her eyes linger on me. I thought for sure appealing to Philip’s fatherly paranoia would work, but then my fucking mother had to go and ruin it.
Thanks a lot, Mom. Piper leaves for the airport tomorrow morning. Now, what am I supposed to do?
“I can’t believe how grown up the two of you are,” my mother coos. “It seems like just yesterday the two of you were playing with each other in the back garden.”
I scoff silently. Mothers always have very different memories of these things. I remember playing with Piper as kids, all right. I remember how she used to sit there and read, merely glancing up at me with hatred for three hours while you and her mother drank mimosas on the lawn. “Oh, how time flies,” I say. I wink at Piper across the table and she glances away.
“And now you’re going to USC, Kai,” she continues, looking at me with pride in her eyes. “Just like I did.”
“And my little Piper’s going to Harvard.” Philip reaches out and lays a hand on Piper’s shoulder. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I guess Piper’s knack for constantly one-upping everyone around her is genetic.
“Well, it wasn’t a contest or anything…” Piper mutters with a half smile. Oh, Pipes. Don’t play the modest shrew now.
“Everything is a contest, Piper,” Philip says, pointing his fork at her. “There’s no such thing as a participation trophy in the real world.”
Oh, great. Here comes another one of Headmaster Lynch’s classic motivational speeches. I’m sure they’re plenty motivating to Piper, but to me? The B-average jock? Might as well staple a sign to my forehead that reads “fuck you, kid.” And my mother? Bless her heart. She reaches across the table and pats my hand as if to say, “You’re still perfect to me, son.”
“Excuse me,” I say. “I’m meeting up with Shawn tonight. Dinner was great, Mom. Thanks.”
“Have fun, sweetie,” she says. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“We won’t.” I take my empty plate and walk across the dining room into the kitchen to lay it in the sink.
Piper’s voice carries through the house as she continues talking about her trip. My feet turn numb, stalling me in place near the sink. I lean against the kitchen counter and listen in closely as the sound travels between my ears. It’s intoxicating, really. Like a pleasant siren’s song passing through ocean waves.
But then lightning strikes and the storm arrives to fuck you and your ship up.
I push off the counter and wander across the kitchen. Her dark blue eyes meet mine for a brief second as I pass across the open doorway on my way into the hallway.
She laughs at something her father says and I fight the urge to punch a wall.
Piper is going to Europe tomorrow and she doesn’t come back until the day she leaves for Harvard. I’m screwed. There’s no way she’d fuck me tonight either, not after the completely obvious way I just tried to derail her entire trip right in front of her. The bet’s over.
I’ve lost.
I reach into my pocket and palm my phone. Shawn’s going to be a very happy man after he reads this text message.
Congratulations, asshole—
I start typing it out, but I quickly delete it and pause in front of Philip’s office door.
I twist the door open, being extra careful not to make any noise as I do it. The hinge squeaks from old age, but I hear my mother’s laughter in the other room and push it open the rest of the way before she’s gone silent again. A small lamp illuminates the room and I step through the shadows, quickly darting for his desk.
Here it is — Just sitting right on top in one of those plastic see-through folders like a fucking book report or something. Piper’s itinerary. Every hotel, every train, every map. A chiseled-in-stone blueprint of her exact whereabouts for the next week.
I raise an eyebrow and send a new message to Shawn.
Got any plans this week?
Click here to continue reading Ruin Me
Also by Tabatha Kiss
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About the Author
Tabatha Kiss lives in Chicago, Illinois. You can probably catch her huddled up in a hoodie, reading a good romance beneath a tree in Jackson Park with her trusty husky by her side. She enjoys roller derby, sushi, and is always searching for her forever bad boy.
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