Sincerely Enemies: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (The Warr Acres High Series Book 1)

by Kelsie Stelting

  The OU one was right in front of me. The only one that wasn’t nodding.

  “What happened to Stoops?” I asked.

  Mrs. Arthur picked him up and rolled the separate pieces over in her hands. “Nora got to him.”

  Now I liked her even more. Great.

  Principal Scott dropped into the chair beside me, looking completely exhausted. He rubbed his eyes, then blinked them quickly. “What a mess.”

  “You’re telling me,” I muttered.

  Mrs. Arthur sighed. “Emerick, I—”

  “Wait,” I said. I needed to get my part out first. “Look, I didn’t want to do this advice column at first, but I started to like it. I’m good at it. I have thank-you emails from students. And Stra—I mean, Nora, she was a good friend to me. I was never going to tell her who I was or reveal anything about the other students.” And then, I did something I’d never done before. I asked for mercy. “Please, don’t expel me. I need to graduate.”

  A small smile touched Mrs. Arthur’s lips. “I know. You’re going to graduate.”

  Shocked, I looked between her and Principal Scott, who nodded.

  “But we’re cancelling the advice column,” she said.

  And for reasons I didn’t understand, that sounded worse than not graduating at all. “What?”

  She twisted the broken bobblehead so its mug swiveled all the way around. Just when I thought those things couldn’t get any creepier. “Considering today’s events, we don’t think students will trust writing in, at least this year, and after we recoup the costs from Trey’s stunt, we’ll only have a few issues left anyway.”

  “What about an online issue?” I asked.

  Mrs. Arthur’s eyes bored through me, calculating. “That’s an idea we’ll consider. But I’m afraid our Dear Adam experiment is done. You’re off the hook, and as long as your identity as Adam remains a secret, you’ll graduate in May.”

  I looked to Principal Scott. Was Mr. Hard Ass really going along with all of this?

  He nodded. “Don’t you have a class to get to, Mr. Turner?”

  All of the bobbleheads around me already knew the answer, but I said it out loud. “Yeah.”

  But there was no way I was going.

  I sent Wolf a text message, and he met me by a side exit. Ditching was always easier when I had two functioning legs, but we still managed to get to the parking lot without notice.

  Movement from a few cars over caught my eye. Nora sat in her SUV, her head leaning against the steering wheel, shoulders shaking.

  I twisted my head to look at Wolf pushing me from behind. “Hey, man. Wait in the car. I gotta take care of something.”

  Wolf’s eyes shifted back toward the school. “What?”

  I tilted my head toward Nora’s car. “Just wait.”

  He stopped the wheelchair, and I pressed my hands against the cold cars in the parking lot to help me hop over to her vehicle. God, I couldn’t wait to advance to crutches. Finally, I hopped to lean against the passenger door of Nora’s SUV, and I tapped on the window.

  She jerked up, but turned her head away first, wiping at her cheeks. Then she faced me, looking surprised.

  Had she been expecting someone else?

  She pushed a button, and the window slowly came down. “What’s up?” she asked, casual, but the pain in her eyes had my chest aching with her. No one deserved to have all their shit splashed on the front page. Not even Little Miss Perfect. And especially not ThePerfectStranger.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Stupid question.

  She gave a quick nod that totally wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine,” she added. “What are you doing out here?”

  Her message from the other night about me hot-wiring a car flashed through my mind, and I wished I had any answer for her other than skipping school. But maybe this could be a good thing?

  “Wolf and I are getting out of here,” I said. “You wanna come?”

  Her eyes looked somewhere beyond me, and I followed her gaze. A minivan had parked in one of the visitor spots up front, and this total MILF got out. She immediately went to the back doors and reached in, probably getting kids out.

  “That’s my mom.” Nora jerked her chin up. “In a few minutes, she’s going to go into the school and sit down with Principal Scott. And she’s going to learn about the newspaper and all of the horrible things I said about her behind her back when I was acting like the perfect daughter to her face.”

  “Nora, it’ll—”

  She held up her hand, her blue eyes looking dead. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like for people to actually expect something from you.”

  That delicate grip she had on my heart? Yeah, she squeezed, twisted, ripped that thing right out of my chest. This fantasy I held on to in the back of my mind? It belonged in the garbage with the rest of me. Because that’s all she saw me as—trash.

  I nodded and turned away, wanting to sprint out of there. But my leg wasn’t good enough for that. Just like the rest of me.

  The second I got into Wolf’s El Camino, he peeled out of the parking lot, and I’d never been so glad to get away from the school. May couldn’t come soon enough.

  He drove, didn’t even bother telling me where, but eventually we parked at Dolese Park. In the summer, trees would give us cover, but right now, all the leafless branches were still trying to decide whether it was time to bud or not.

  He got out of the car, came around to my side, and let me put my arm around his shoulder. Together, we hopped to the little lake and sat on a bench.

  You know the worst thing about writing an anonymous advice column that left your entire future hanging in the balance? Having your hard-core best friend take you to a spill-your-guts place and not being able to tell him what’s going on.

  He opened his jacket and lifted a flask from his pocket. “Need a drink?”

  I snorted and looked around. “You tryin’ to get in trouble?”

  Wolf shrugged. “What’s it matter?”

  “Maybe I’d like to spend my day somewhere other than the police station.” We spent enough time there last year for dumb shit—ditching school, hitting parties, smashing mailboxes on Halloween. He should know better by now.

  “What’s going on with you, man?” he asked. “You’ve been weird as hell since school started back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “I mean, you never ditch anymore—other than today—you don’t even look at girls anymore, you’re all quiet and always looking at your phone... What is it?”

  I shrugged my jacket up and pulled it tighter. “Nothing, man.”

  “You gay?”

  I shoved him. “No. You don’t have to be gay not to date.” And then I pulled a Nora line. “You don’t get it. You’re still a junior. You’ve got another year of this. After May, I’m done. I have to decide if I want to do something with my life. Messing around with you and the guys is fun—it can’t last forever.”

  Wolf scowled. “You think I don’t get it? My parents remind me every freaking day that this music thing is shit. They tell me the odds are against me and I’ll end up some broke old dude.”

  “Yeah, but the drugs and stuff? You think that’s rock and roll or some shit?”

  He sneered. “Shut up.”

  “No.” I shoved his shoulder. “Get your act together, Wolf. You want this music stuff? Go for it. Don’t blow your chances messing around with stupid shit.”

  Wolf turned toward the lake and stared over it for a minute, his jaw working. “I’m tired of being a fuck-up.”

  “Then don’t be.”

  After a moment, he snapped up from the bench and reached into his pockets. The silver flask flew through the air and landed in the lake. A couple small ziplocks followed. And then Wolf jumped in, clothes and all.

  We didn’t talk much after that. Just drove around, bummed some free food from the place where he worked. And then he dropped me off at home. But something was
different. Not just in me, but in him.

  I went to my room/the garage/the laundry room and pulled out my laptop. I should email Nora, as the guy she actually liked, tell her I was sorry. But when I tried logging into the Dear Adam gmail account, it said the password was incorrect. And when I tried to recover it, it said the access email was Mrs. Arthur’s. Or, that’s who I guessed me*********ur@wahs.org was.

  I still remembered Nora’s fake email, but that would mean emailing her as myself or making another fake Adam account, and my heart just wasn’t in it. She’d made her point, loud and clear.

  So, I opened my regular email, and my eyes landed on one message between ads for clothes and restaurants.

  The Oklahoman had emailed me back about the internship.

  From: The Oklahoman HR

  To: Emerick Turner

  Dear Mr. Turner,

  Thank you so much for your interest in the position. Unfortunately, we have decided to move forward in our search with other applicants.

  Best of luck,

  The Oklahoman Team

  Eighteen

  Nora

  The only thing worse than having your innermost thoughts put on display for the entire high school? Seeing them talked about on the four o’clock news.

  Dad clicked off the TV in the living room, and I put my head in my hands. This was bad. Bad. Bad.

  “Look at me,” Dad snapped.

  Mom rubbed my leg. “Honey, Nora’s—”

  “No,” he said, waving his hand holding the remote with a sense of finality that couldn’t be argued. “Nora, how could you be so stupid? What have I always told you?”

  Each of his words stung to my core. He was right. How had I trusted a complete stranger with all of my secrets? And where was Adam now? He certainly hadn’t come forward to apologize. No, he’d left me to deal with Trey’s attack, all by myself.

  “Well?” Dad said.

  Like reciting the alphabet, I said, “‘There’s a reason they call it a private life and not a public life.’”

  “Right,” he said. “This campaign can only work if the entire”—he waved his hands in wide circle—“family is on board. Each of us has a part in this, and all of us have made sacrifices.” He paced across the carpet in front of Mom and me, gesturing angrily as he walked. “Your mother works herself from dawn until dusk taking care of you girls. Amie is excelling in ballet, making a positive name for herself in the arts community. Opal never questions what to wear to events. And we counted on you most of all. You let us down. If you ruined my chance at becoming governor, I’ll never forgive you.”

  He wanted to talk about forgiveness? Sacrifice? Maybe he could explain what role his basement rendezvous with that woman who was not his wife had to do with his run for governor. Or with supporting this family.

  I turned my eyes up at him, burning with humiliation and rage. “If Hillary can forgive Bill, you can forgive me.”

  Did he hear the threat in my voice? I couldn’t tell.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You are in big trouble. I won’t be able to campaign for the next week and a half because I have to stick around here during your spring break!”

  Angry tears stung my eyes. “What a shame, having to spend time with your own family.”

  Dad’s phone went off and he held it to his ear, listening for a moment. “Yes, I heard it...It’s a complete disaster...We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  He hit the end button and stared at me. He kept his voice low. “You will go upstairs and change into a respectable outfit, you will put on make-up, and you will get down here in fifteen minutes so we can go to FOX25 and try to do some damage control.”

  I stared at him, and he snapped his fingers. “Now.”

  I gave one last look at Mom, who’d just sat there the whole time and let him rampage, and ran toward the stairs.

  Opal stood a few steps up, and when I met her eyes, I saw nothing but sympathy and worry.

  I bent over and kissed her forehead. “Love you, girl. Don’t worry about me.”

  But I ran upstairs before she could say anything back.

  In front of my mirror, I took deep, cleansing breaths like we’d learned in homeroom, but it seemed futile. The truth was, I meant all of the things I’d said to Adam. I had wanted my dad to be around more, to make pancakes on Sunday morning like he used to, to play catch with us in the park, to not constantly worry about what we said or how we dressed. But now, I didn’t know that man downstairs. I couldn’t reconcile the dad I missed to the slime I’d seen cheating on his wife in the capitol building. Couldn’t believe his DNA made half of me.

  But I picked myself up, because I was a Wilson, and that was what we did. We put on a happy face and acted like things were okay when they were anything but.

  Mom and Dad met me downstairs, and they left Amie in charge while we drove to the news station. We went through hair and make-up and sat down with a reporter on a set made to look cozy and inviting with cushy chairs and a painting in the background. The shining overhead lights and microphone hooked to my lapel told a different story.

  Dad’s PR guy stood with us on the set. After talking with Dad, he came to me. “Okay, here’s what you need to say, kiddo.” He handed me a sheet of paper, and I read over the bulleted list of talking points.

  My dad is my hero.

  Senior year is tough. Everyone needs someone to talk to.

  My parents taught me family means more than anything.

  My sisters are my best friends. I would do anything for them.

  I’m excited to go to OU so I can stay close to my family.

  Vote Wilson for Governor.

  As I read down the bulleted list, my gut clenched.

  “Want to practice them?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.”

  The reporter came on stage and shook hands with each of us. And when the camera man counted down, I transformed into the daughter I knew Dad wanted. The one who effortlessly served her family, school, and community. The one who really thought her dad deserved to be governor.

  But as soon as the lights turned off, that girl was gone. The only thing I knew was that I loved my sisters. That I had to make things right with my friends. And that, even though I’d been broadcasted to thousands of people, the person I really wanted to talk to was Adam.

  Spring break was a nightmare. Dad made each of us kids volunteer with him at the soup kitchen every single day. It would have been fine if we were actually there for a good reason, but Dad just wanted to save face.

  Amie still hadn’t forgiven me, hadn’t talked to me. Actually, she made Opal tell me anything she had to say. Real mature, I know. I had Opal tell her so.

  The worst part? Mom was so sweet and comforting to me when Dad wasn’t around. She left little encouraging notes in our lunches, came and said goodnight every evening, and told me I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Trey did. She said every teen needed someone to vent to and that Amie would come around.

  But while she said all these things the perfect mom would say, I held her and Dad’s marriage in the balance. Should I tell her? Was it my place? I didn’t know, and it was tearing me up inside, especially when I didn’t have Adam to lean on.

  Friday night, I lay in my room, staring at the ceiling, when Dad walked in.

  “I’m heading out,” he said.

  I rolled my head to the side to see him leaning against the doorframe. “See ya.”

  “Want to try that again?”

  “Goodbye?”

  He nodded and scuffed his toe on the carpet. “Look, Bug, I know you think I’m tough on you, but it’s just because I think you’ve got something special. Some of nation’s greatest leaders were oldest children whose parents pushed them to be the best they could.”

  Any other time, I would have eaten that up, dreamed about my future with him, but now? When I knew who my dad really was?

  “Everyone slips,” he said, “it’s owning up to yo
ur mistakes that matters, and I think you did that this week.”

  The corner of my lips twitched into a half-hearted smile. I just wondered when he would do the same.

  He turned to leave, his hand still on the frame. “See you Tuesday.”

  “Drive safely.”

  I closed my eyes and listened to him say his quiet goodbyes to the other girls. When I heard the front door close behind him, tears leaked out my eyes because now I didn’t know where he was really going.

  I tried to go to sleep, but no amount of sheep or deep breathing or counting backwards from two hundred was enough to still the storms inside my mind. This night called for something more.

  I slipped out of bed and padded quietly down the stairs in search of the only thing that had helped me sleep when I was waiting for the results of my own election for student body president—a peanut butter and banana sandwich with chocolate milk.

  Halfway through mixing in the Hershey’s syrup, I heard someone else walk into the kitchen.

  I turned to see Mom, wearing her silk pajamas.

  “Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Want some chocolate milk?”

  She nodded, and I made her a glass too.

  We sat together at the breakfast bar, sipping our milk. Oceans of lies and secrets hung between us. Could she feel them too?

  “One day left before school starts,” Mom said.

  “Don’t remind me.” Sunday, we’d have church, and then it would be back to the routine of packing lunches, taxiing the kids around town, and facing people who knew everything about me.

  She rubbed my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, honey. If anything, I think it could be a good thing.”

  I stared at her, open mouthed. After the big deal Dad had made about the leaked emails, how could any of this be considered a good thing?

  “You know, sometimes the worst thing isn’t the worst thing,” she said. “Remember when you had the idea for the advice column? You said you wanted people to feel like they weren’t alone, and I bet having other kids see that you struggle too, even though your life might look pretty good from the outside, could be really good.”