Smile Like You Mean It
Willow Hadley
For Kelly.
This book wouldn’t exist without you.
Copyright © 2020 by Willow Hadley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Willow Hadley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
First edition.
Edited by Taryn Gilliland
Cover Design by KillerBookCovers
www.killerbookcovers.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Sebastian
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Elliot
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Remy
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Arthur
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Elliot
Chapter Fourteen
Remy
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Sebastian
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Elliot
Chapter Twenty
Liam
Chapter Twenty-One
Grayson
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Remy
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sebastian
Grayson
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
I’m trying not to think about the exasperated look I’m going to see on Anne’s face once she gets a look at my newest bruises. I run my tongue over my bottom lip without thinking, internally wincing at the fresh cut there. Internally being the keyword. Over the years, I’ve completely perfected the art of always keeping my composure, of never showing my true emotions.
The detention officer gives me a side glance before turning the last corner in the hallway we’re walking down. He’s probably just double checking to make sure I’m not going to do something crazy, like stab him. I stare at him blankly and go back to my unsuccessful attempts of not-thinking about Anne’s reaction when she finds out I got into yet another fight just this morning.
Anne is my social worker. I like Anne, though she probably doesn’t realize that. I know I’m not the easiest to deal with, and I always feel bad for wasting her time and energy when I know she has a ton of other foster kids to look after. But I like being around her, even when she’s spazzing out or being pushy about getting me to talk. I always feel calm when I’m with her. I know she really cares about her job, and it’s not like it’s her fault I keep messing everything up.
I wonder if she’s done her hair differently. It’s only been a few weeks since I’ve seen my social worker, but she’s always changing her hair. I wonder if she’ll take me to get something to eat. I’m dying for something sugary. I won’t ask, of course, but I’ll secretly keep my fingers crossed.
I don’t wonder where she’ll be taking me this time. It’ll probably be another group home, though I doubt it will be the same one I was in before. I’m definitely not wondering about it at all, and I’m definitely not nervous about it.
Finally, we reach the doors that lead into the bright and cheery reception area in the front of the building. It’s a façade. Everything behind the doors is the complete opposite. Even though there are a few people milling around, it only takes a second for my eyes to land on Anne. And I was right, her hair is different. It’s styled in beautiful box braids, but she has them pulled up in a large bun, so it’s impossible for me to tell how long they are. She looks pretty and more dressed up than I usually see her.
“Charlotte, there you are!”
Her voice and eyes are warm, but her smile makes her look nervous. And although she doesn’t say anything right away, I’m fully aware of her eyes taking in my cut lip, black eye, and the bruised knuckles on my right hand. I want to pull my sleeve down to try and hide my hand, at the very least, but I force myself to stay still and not fidget.
I don’t bother saying anything as I walk over to where she’s standing.
“What the hell happened to her face?”
I’m startled, as I didn’t notice the man standing next to her. I manage to keep my composure, until I turn my gaze to him and my heart stops.
The I hope and heartbreak I’m feeling is probably written clearly across my face. I gape at him for several long seconds, only turning away when I feel tears in the corner of my eyes. When I gain my composure and look at him again, I’m devastated to see that I was wrong. He’s not my father. I mean, of course he isn’t. My father died a long time ago.
They look so alike though. I manage to clear my throat and ask in a quiet voice, “Uncle Arthur?”
His eyes are the same emerald green as my father’s and mine. He doesn’t look away from me, and he looks as heartbroken and distraught as I feel. He nods his head lightly, in answer to my question. I haven’t seen him in years, not since the funeral.
Anne sighs and gives me one of her signature exasperated looks. “Charlotte, sweetie, you told me you had no other family.”
I drop my eyes to the floor. If I look at either of them any longer, I might start crying. And god, I can’t. I can’t cry in front of other people. I consider ignoring her implied question, and I speak even more quietly than before.
“My mother said they didn’t want to see me. My father’s family, I mean.”
Arthur makes a terrible choking sound. When I glance up at him, he’s holding one of his hands over his eyes. I take the opportunity to look him over. He’s dressed nicely, like he came here straight from work. He’s tall, and his hair is a few shades darker than my dirty blonde. I’m trying to remember how much older my dad was than his brother. I think Arthur must be somewhere in his mid-to-late thirties.
He meets my eyes, looking more heartbroken than before. “That’s not true at all, Charlotte. I tried to keep contact with your mom after, but, but she…” He squeezes his eyes shut and frowns. “I should have tried harder. I swear to god, I had no idea what she did to you and what she let happen. I swear, if I’d known you were in here, I would have…”
Anne rubs his shoulder consolingly and gives me a small smile. “Your uncle is more than happy to take you in. Are you okay with that?”
I’m so surprised by the turn of events that I nod silently. Anne explains that Arthur will hold temporary custody for a probation period. At some point, she’ll do a home check and she says I’l
l need to start seeing a licensed therapist. It’s non-negotiable. Before I know it, the three of us are walking outside together, and Anne is digging around in her purse.
She hands Arthur a business card first. “Here. I know I gave you one earlier, but just to be sure. My cell phone is always on, no matter the time of day.” She rummages in her bag and pulls out a wrapped gift, smiling warmly at me.
I know it’s a book as soon as she hands it to me, and I can’t help quirking the slightest smile. She gave me a copy of Anne of Green Gables the first time we met, the last time she picked me up from juvie. I tear off the paper carefully until I reveal a beautiful copy of Jane Eyre. I’ve read it before, many times. It’s one of my favorites.
I don’t tell Anne that. I only meet her eyes, still letting myself smile. “Thank you.”
Anne hugs me tightly, and she shakes Arthur’s hand. Arthur asks me quietly if the small bag I’m holding is all I have, and after a quick nod, he continues leading me to a brand-new looking four-door sedan.
I feel nervous once we’re in the car, and Arthur looks nervous too. I remind myself that there’s no way this could be worse than the group home or juvie, and definitely not worse than living with my mom. Never mind that I haven’t seen my uncle in more than six years, that I don’t really know anything about him.
“Are you hungry? We can go wherever you want.”
I lift my eyes to meet his and mumble, “Okay.” When he raises one eyebrow at me, I quickly add, “I don’t care where we eat.”
Backing the car out of the parking space, he sighs and gives me an extremely pitiful side glance. “Come on, kid.”
He’s probably just as nervous as I am, so I take pity on him and quietly suggest a burger place that’s nearby. It dawns on me that he might not live in the area. When I get the courage to ask, he tells me that he lives about three and a half hours away from here in a town called Somerset.
A little while later, we’re sitting in a booth across from each other sipping on milkshakes. After an extremely long and awkward silence, Arthur clears his throat.
“So, you got into a fight?”
I look away from him and nod my head. I know Anne probably told him everything that happened with my mom and everything that’s happened since then. There’s no point trying to explain that while I may not have started the fight, I definitely had my part in finishing it.
“Alright, we won’t talk about that.” Arthur taps his fingers against the table. “You’re sixteen, right? You’ll be a junior in high school?”
I nod again, silently sipping on my milkshake.
Arthur sighs quietly. I know he’s probably getting frustrated with me. I just…I don’t know how to talk to him. I can barely look at him without thinking about my father.
“My stepson Sebastian is your age. You’ll be in the same grade together when school starts up.”
I look at him, raising my eyebrows. I still don’t say a word, but I’m sure it’s obvious that my curiosity is piqued.
With a small smile, Arthur explains, “His mom’s name was Adelaide. We got married a little over five years ago, and I adopted Sebastian. His father has never exactly been in the picture.” His smile wobbles and his voice gets quieter. “She died almost two years ago now.”
My heart aches for him so much. Without hesitation, I reach out and take his hand. “I’m sorry…”
He squeezes my hand and smiles sadly again. “It’s not your fault. I’m probably not the world’s greatest dad, and most of the time I have no clue what I’m doing, but Sebastian’s a great kid. I would have been lost without him these last few years.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows and he smiles more brightly. “I’m sure the two of you will get along really well. I can’t believe I’m going to have two teenagers in the house!”
I wonder how this Sebastian guy feels about me coming to live with them. I can’t bring myself to ask because the thought makes me more nervous than I was before. When the waitress brings our food, I become entirely focused on my burger and fries. It tastes so freaking good, especially after the crap I’ve been eating for the last year in juvie and the group home.
While we’re eating, Arthur talks pretty much non-stop. He tells me about his job, his house, and the school I’ll be going to when summer break ends. He talks a little bit about Adelaide and Sebastian too. I don’t want to let on how anxious I am to meet his stepson. Whenever Arthur asks me any questions, I manage to mostly nod or mumble short one-word answers.
After Arthur pays for our meal and we’re both finishing up our milkshakes, he lets out a long sigh and frowns deeply at me. It makes me feel guilty enough to meet his eyes straight on. Even though looking at him makes something twist in my gut, I don’t look away.
“Charlotte, I know you’ve been through a lot and god, I’m so, so sorry, kid. I want you to know that if I’d had any idea, I would have taken you in years ago. I feel terrible for not being there for you, and I know I don’t have a lot to offer you or anything, but…please. Please just try and let me in. I’ll do everything I possibly can to make sure you’re happy and comfortable and that you have everything you need.”
I’m quiet, still staring into his sad, shining eyes. I’m completely at war with my emotions, and I know I’m about a half second away from falling apart. But I’m so grateful to him for being here now, and for sounding like he genuinely wants me to be in his life.
The moment I decide to let him in, I feel my bottom lip start to tremble. The only words that come out of my mouth are, “You look just like him.”
And just like that, tears are falling down my cheeks and I’m crying harder than I have in years. I try to hide my face with my hands, hating that I’m doing this in public. Within seconds, Arthur scoots into my side of the booth and wraps his arms around me. I let myself lean into him and cry even harder. I don’t know if it’s because he looks so much like my dad or if it’s his demeanor, but I feel safer in his presence than I have in years.
After an embarrassingly long time, I manage to calm down and sit up. I wipe my eyes and shakily mumble, “I’m sorry.”
“No, no.” His voice cracks the tiniest bit, making me wonder if he was crying too. “Don’t be sorry. Everything’s going to be okay now.”
I nod my head, not sure I believe him, but I definitely feel better. He makes sure I’m done eating, and we get up from the table to leave.
Chapter Two
“Alright, kid. We’re home.” Arthur gently shakes my shoulder to wake me.
I groggily lift my head and blink the sleep from my eyes. After our late lunch, Arthur stopped at a bank to set up an account for me. I still don’t know how to feel about that. It makes my stomach squirm guiltily because he trusts me with something like that already. I’d protested against it at first, but he said I’d need money to go clothes shopping in the next couple of days. When we finished there, we’d started the long drive to his house. Arthur kept on talking, probably trying to make up for how quiet I am. While he listed off all the appointments he’d need to set up for me—enrolling in classes for school, a doctor’s appointment, as well as an appointment with a therapist—I’d fallen asleep. With a full stomach, his soothing voice, and the comforting warmth of the car, it hadn’t taken long.
As I stare up at the dark two-story now, all of my nerves come rushing back. The front porch light is on, and I can see a few lights on inside the house through the blinds. I’m going to have to meet Sebastian in a second.
Unbuckling my seatbelt as slowly as possible, I mumble, “Is he, um, okay with me coming to live with you guys?”
Arthur gives me a guilty look, and my stomach flutters. Sebastian doesn’t know me yet and he already doesn’t want me here. I don’t blame him.
Arthur clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “The thing is, I didn’t really tell him yet?”
I blink in confusion. “What?”
Arthur sighs and rushes out, “Your social worker only called me this morning,
and I immediately left work to drive out and meet her. Between talking to her and filling out paperwork while waiting for you to be released…” I’m trying to keep my face blank, but Arthur must pick up on my anxiety. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”
I hesitantly get out of the car, holding my dingy backpack close to my body. It’s filled with only two extra pairs of clothes that fit me just as poorly as what I have on now, a pair of pajamas, a few toiletries, my glasses, and the two books Anne’s given me.
Arthur leads me up the path to the front door, smiling encouragingly. The closer we get to the house, the more clearly I can hear sounds coming from inside. And it’s loud. It sounds like there are multiple people shouting. Schooling my expression, I silently pray that Sebastian is just watching TV with the volume up really high.
To my dismay, several voices call out as soon as he opens the door. “Hey, Arthur!”
I’m practically hiding behind him, still standing awkwardly on the front porch. Arthur clears his throat. “Can you guys turn that off for a second, please?”
The house suddenly becomes silent, and Arthur turns to look at me with his eyebrows raised. I breathe out slowly and finally step into the house. I find myself face to face with four teenage boys sitting around the living room playing a video game. Their eyes widen and they sit up straighter as soon as they see me.
I cut my eyes back to Arthur, hoping my face isn’t showing my internal panic. He closes the door and puts his hand on my back, gently pushing me further into the house. “This is my niece, Charlotte. She’s going to be staying here from now on. So just, um, try to be nice to her, okay?”
The boys nod, but they’re still staring at me in bewilderment. Arthur must be making some kind of face behind me because one of the boys jumps up and comes to stand in front of me.
He laughs nervously and brushes his fingers through his hair before holding his hand out for me to shake. “Hey, I’m Sebastian.”
He’s a lot taller than I am and slightly muscular. His dark brown hair is somewhat wavy and just longer than his ears, and his eyes are two different colors: one blue, one brown. His nose has a small bump on it that makes me think it’s been broken before, but it actually makes him look cuter.
Smile Like You Mean It (Charlotte Reynolds Book 1) Page 1