“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“You know me so well, Saint.”
“Fine.” She groans. “Send me the address.”
Violet’s wide eyes roam as she follows me through the house. “Umm, you didn’t tell me you were staying in a mansion. This place is insane.”
Her reaction doesn’t surprise me. Neither of us come from families with money—unlike most of the kids in this town—but seeing the way the rich live is new for her. Violet always jokes about Arwen’s closet being the size of her bedroom and getting lost in Thatcher’s house. The Rhodes estate must be overwhelming.
I hook an arm around her shoulders, steering her into the kitchen. “It’s nothing special.”
She gasps once we’re inside, walking out of my hold. Her hand glides over the sleek, white marble countertops as she explores. “Are you kidding? This kitchen is like a dream.”
Violet looks like a kid in a candy store, awe lighting up her pretty face, and a smile tugs at my lips. This is why I asked her to come here. She’s the only person I know who enjoys cooking as much as I do. We both learned as kids out of necessity. She wanted to make sure her parents had a warm meal waiting for them after work, and I wanted to help my mother with her responsibilities here.
“Would you believe they never use it? It’s such a shame to let it go to waste. I thought we could put it to good use today.”
The kitchen is stocked with everything we need to cook or bake just about anything we want. They must’ve had their housekeeper bring everything while I was at work. This place was nearly bare when I made breakfast yesterday.
“Seriously? Gwen’s parents won’t mind?”
“They’ll be gone all day. We have the place to ourselves and won’t be bothering anyone. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have some real food in the house.”
She squeals with excitement, wrapping her arms around me.
Laughter and conversation easily flow between us while we work on the raspberry white chocolate cheesecake—another one of Gwen’s favorites. It helps melt away some of the frustration built up in me from this morning. But by the time it’s in the oven and we’re working on Saint’s grandfather’s chicken fettucine recipe, she starts asking the inevitable questions.
“How do you know Gwen’s family anyway?”
Her question rebuilds the unease in my muscles, and I move to the refrigerator before answering. “I kind of grew up here.”
“Wait. This is where your mom worked?”
When Violet and I became friends, she assumed my family’s status was the same as our friends. Until I explained the circumstances that brought us to Westbrook. Part of them, anyway.
“Yep, this is the place. That’s how I ended up back here, since my mom is away.”
“Wow. I didn’t think you even knew Gwen.”
My stomach churns as I turn back to meet her probing baby blues. Discussing the Gwen situation with Violet is the last thing I want to do, but lying to her would make me a total hypocrite.
“We know each other very well,” I answer honestly, and Violet’s eyebrows bounce with interest. “But knowing someone and liking them are two different things.”
Her lips twist with disappointment, head cocking to one side. “I didn’t think any girl could resist your charms.”
“They can’t.” One side of my mouth pulls into a lopsided grin as I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes with a dramatic flair that’s contradicted by the tint on her cheeks. “I simply choose not to waste them on the spoiled princess.”
Violet offers a nod before returning her attention back to the broccoli she’s chopping. “Doesn’t that make the situation a little awkward, though? What does she say about you being here?”
“She doesn’t get one.” The clipped tone in my matter-of-fact answer is too telling, and Violet’s eyes snap back to me with surprise.
“Really? Gwen doesn’t strike me as someone who would hide her feelings. She certainly hasn’t been shy about making it clear she doesn’t like me.”
“What do you mean? Did she say or do something to you?”
This is the first I’m hearing about Gwen and Violet having any kind of interaction, let alone a confrontation.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Just nasty glares and mumbled comments under her breath when she literally bumps into me at school.”
I’ll be damned. Is Gwen jealous of Violet?
It’s the only explanation that makes sense. I’ve never seen Gwen be aggressive toward someone without being provoked, and there’s no way sweet-natured Violet did anything to her.
This could be a piece of the puzzle that I’ve been missing. The first message I received from Phantom Girl was right after Violet and I started getting close. So much so, I was beginning to question my feelings for her. Then I got wrapped up with the girl hiding behind a screen.
Gwen knows me well enough to determine Violet was different. Special. But why did she care? She’s the one who carelessly tossed me aside. I assumed her motivation behind catfishing me was simply to hurt me. But this makes me question her reasoning. Maybe there was a different driving force behind her actions.
“Interesting,” I muse, unable to stop my smile. “I’ll be sure to have a chat with her about that.”
“Don’t you go stirring up trouble,” she scolds, tossing a piece of greenery my way. “It’s not that big of a deal. She’s not the only girl who started treating me like a target once the rumors began swirling about my involvement with Thatcher.”
She isn’t wrong there. When Thatcher stopped fighting his feelings for Saint, he warned her the wolves would descend. And it didn’t take them long. Every asshole guy suddenly wanted a piece of her, which didn’t sit well with the queen bees.
But if Gwen has a problem with Violet, it doesn’t involve Thatcher. Gwen and Thatcher didn’t get along as kids, both of them jealous of the time I spent with the other. She still looks at him as if he stole her favorite toy and broke it.
If Gwen’s issue with Violet is about her relationship with me, I can use it to my advantage. Getting Gwen to expose herself will be much more entertaining than doing the job myself. This could mean she still cares about me. If I find out her intentions weren’t malicious, it would definitely change the game; but I want answers.
She needs to look me in the eye and tell me why she stomped on my heart when it also meant breaking her own.
Chapter Eight
6 years old
COLE
My stomach knots as I walk out to the playground. It’s only my second week at this school, and I already hate Westbrook. The kids here are awful. They call me E. Coli. I asked my mom what it meant, and she said it was a bad bacterium that makes people sick. But I didn’t tell her that’s what people at school were calling me because I don’t want her to worry.
Mom seems happier here. We both were until school started. Gwen isn’t so bad. We’ve actually become close. Her parents are nice, too. They even bought me some new clothes for school.
But here, I get pushed and shoved when no one’s looking. They make fun of me for being poor and skinny.
Gwen’s my only friend, and things aren’t much better for her. The kids tease her, calling her fat. No one takes up for her, they all just laugh. Even the girls she calls her friends.
I’m too thin and she’s too big. When they see us together, they call us the number ten.
Someone pushes me from behind, sending me to my knees in the muddy dirt. Laughter erupts around me as I struggle to get back on my feet. The new jeans Lydia and Mark bought me are stained with two brown circles now.
I turn to face the person responsible, my teeth gritted, fists curled. The boy crosses his arms and smiles at me. Shane Donavan is the biggest and worst bully at Westbrook Elementary.
“If it isn’t E. Coli the scarecrow.”
Before I have a chance to defend myself, Gwen comes running to my side. “Leave him alone, Shane.”
“Aww, Gwennie Pig is taking up for her boyfriend. How cute,” Shane coos.
“Don’t call her that!” I shout.
Kids gasp as I charge, the full force of my body barely moving him. Shane huffs, easily pushing me back to the ground. This time it’s my butt that lands in the mud.
“The scarecrow and the pig are in love,” Shane taunts, everyone laughing along with him.
My face heats with embarrassment. “Shut up.”
Gwen offers me her hand, pouting when I swat it away and get up on my own. If she were smart, she would leave me alone and save herself.
Ignoring Gwen and the roaring laughter around me, I head back toward the school to change. After the second time something like this happened, I started packing a change of clothes in my backpack every day.
“Look, E. Coli pooped his pants!” Shane hollers behind me.
Anger buzzes through me, knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop him from tormenting me or Gwen. But one day he won’t be bigger than me. And then, I’m going to make him pay.
The Joker walks out of the hospital in a nurse’s outfit as it explodes behind him, and I smile. It’s the first time I’ve done it all day. If my momma knew what I was in here watching, she would freak out. But she’s too busy cleaning and cooking for the Rhodes family.
She did notice my change of clothes when I came home from school, though. Gwen covered for me, telling her I slipped in the mud outside instead of being knocked down into it by a bully.
Light filters into the dark theater room, disappearing just as quickly as the door shuts again. I know it’s Gwen without even looking.
“Can I watch the movie with you?”
I nod my head, keeping my eyes on the screen. She takes the seat next to me and I offer her some of my popcorn.
“Don’t you ever get tired of these movies?” she asks, digging into my tub of popcorn.
She watched all the Batman movies with me over the summer. Even the older ones. Once we ran through all of those, she forced me to watch a bunch of stupid Disney movies with her.
“Nope.”
“Why do you like the Joker so much? He’s the bad guy.”
I drag my focus from the movie and glare at her. “I don’t know. Why do you always talk during movies? Shouldn’t you be at dance class or something?”
Her face falls, and I hate how awful it makes me feel. “Are you mad at me?”
“For what?”
“It’s my fault Shane is mean to you. He hates me. I can stop talking to you at school if you want.”
My stomach sours. Gwen is my only friend. If she stops talking to me at school, I won’t have anyone.
I shake my head. “It’s not your fault Shane is a bully.”
“But…everyone thinks you’re my boyfriend now.”
“I don’t care what they think,” I reply with a shrug.
“Really? Aren’t you worried people will make fun of you?”
“No. They already make fun of me. But if it bothers you…”
Her head shakes eagerly before I finish, her lips pressing back a smile. “It’s okay with me.”
Is she saying she wants to be my girlfriend?
My skin goes all tingly, and I turn my attention back to the movie. The idea of having a girlfriend never seemed appealing before I met Gwen. But she’s pretty and sweet. And it feels good when she laughs at my jokes. I’m starting to understand what my momma meant.
“You might change your mind about girls one day.”
My eyes slide back over to Gwen, peering at her through the corners. She’s staring at me with a smile on her face, and my belly dips like when Momma drives too fast over the hills in the road.
She’s looking at me the way the princess always looks at the prince in all those Disney movies. And I think I might like it. I think I might like to kiss her one day.
Chapter Nine
Present
GWEN
It’s late by the time I creep inside the dark and eerily quiet house. After Mia took me for coffee and forced me to spill all the tea about my past with Cole, this was the last place I wanted to be. I wasn’t ready to face him again. Telling Mia everything brought it all back to the surface. My emotions were too raw, and the pain of losing him felt fresh.
We ended up passing the day away, shopping and pampering ourselves with mani-pedis. Mia grilled me the entire time for details about my relationship with Cole, soaking in every single word. It was nice to talk to someone about it. Our circumstances required us to keep things a secret when we were seeing each other. And once they ended, I was too heartbroken to tell anyone. Besides, he was part of the Westbrook Three at that point—feared, hated, and admired by everyone.
The reputation Cole earned was at the root of what tore us apart. In his mind, I sided with the enemy. The people who had hurt him—hurt us. But I had no choice. Everything I did and said was to protect him. Better for his heart to be broken than for his world to be shattered.
I couldn’t even bring myself to tell Mia the full story behind my breakup with Cole—on the off chance she might blab to someone. There’s no telling what Cole would do if he knew everything. Some truths are better left hidden.
The wooden stairs creak under my feet, and I attempt to quiet my step when I move to the next one but trip over it instead. My shopping bags spill from my hands as I try to catch myself, and a stream of curses comes from my mouth when I go down with them.
So much for going unnoticed.
The foyer lights up seconds later. I squint as my eyes adjust, searching for the responsible party. My mom’s worried face comes into focus, relaxing the tension in my muscles. It was Cole I’d been expecting to come lurking out of the shadows. My mother rarely takes notice of my comings and goings.
She’s dressed in a long silk nightgown, looking elegant like always. The thick dark hair she usually keeps in a ballerina bun falls around her shoulders, stopping just above her tiny waist. Why couldn’t I have inherited those genes? I have my father’s fine hair and bulky build. My broad shoulders, tall frame, and thick thighs are the bane of my existence.
“Gwen? Are you all right?”
“Yes, I just…tripped.” I sigh, prying myself off the stairs. “Sorry I woke you. Go back to bed.”
“Why are you getting home so late? Have you been drinking?” The concern laced in her tone causes my brow to bunch with confusion.
It’s not like she doesn’t care for me, she just simply isn’t the motherly type. There were no booboo kisses or coddling of any kind while I was growing up. It was her way of making me strong. And I suppose it worked. But sometimes I worry it also made me cold. Like her.
“No, Mom. I’m clumsy, not drunk,” I reassure her before continuing my climb. “Mia and I spent the day together.”
“All right. Did you eat?”
I pause at her question and look down at her, wondering what she’s done with my real mother.
“Cole made fettucine. There’s leftovers in the fridge.”
I know all about Cole’s fettucine. He’d been sure to post about his day with Violet on his Insta Stories. The two of them, laughing and cooking together. Pictures of her in his arms, both of them practically beaming. It made me sick seeing them so happy together. In my fucking house. Where he left me ruined the day before. If Cole’s goal is to make me hate being in my own home, he’s succeeding.
My stomach churns as I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. Probably best you don’t eat all those carbs before bed anyway.”
There she is. The woman who never misses an opportunity to make me feel like shit about my body.
I bite my tongue and nod, jogging up the rest of the stairs. My bags are tossed haphazardly onto my bedroom floor, and I quickly lock myself inside. An inaudible scream
erupts from somewhere deep inside of me, a few stray tears rolling down my cheeks.
One weekend of living with Cole is all it took to break me. By the end of the summer, I’ll be completely wrecked. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
The familiar chime of an incoming Instagram DM sounds in my pocket, and I groan. Phantom Girl is the only one who receives messages, and there’s only one boy who sends them. It’s like the bastard knows I’m unraveling and wants to pull at the thread. But that can’t be the case. He doesn’t know it’s me he’s talking to.
My hand swipes angrily under my eyes to dry them before retrieving my phone.
11:00 PM
How was your day?
I huff, flipping off the screen before responding.
Great!
Oh yeah? So that’s why you
ghosted me all day?
Ghosted him? Seriously? He spent the entire day with Violet the saint. Fuck him.
Dramatic much?
Seems to me you were pretty
preoccupied all day anyway.
LMFAO
Yeah, you’re right.
I spent my day doing something
I love with someone I care about.
Blood boils in my veins, tears pooling in my eyes, and I fight the urge to toss my phone at the wall.
I’m happy for you.
Maybe you should be messaging
her right now instead of me.
Violet was pretty worn out by the
The Princess and The Jester: A High School Bully Romance (Westbrook Three Book 3) Page 5