The perfume cloud that surrounded Brianna threatened to suffocate me. In one quick motion, I shrugged out from under her arm and took two steps away from her body. Noticing my discomfort, a sickeningly sweet smile covered her face. “Are you all right, Violet?”
“Just dandy.”
“That's good to hear. Your hair looks,” she grappled for a compliment, “nice today.”
My hand reached up toward my hair that I knew looked terrible. I hadn't even had time to comb through the tangled locks with my fingers; let alone an actual comb.
“Your hair looks very…blonde today.” Who knew it could be so hard to compliment someone? Why were we complimenting each other anyway?
“So, I've been thinking that the two of us should hang out more. After all, we are neighbors. We should at least get to know each other better.” The smile that stretched across her face was starting to give me the creeps. Why would she want to hang out with me?
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are being so nice to me of all people? Did you bump your head on someone's bed post last night?” I chuckled a little as I added, “You’re taking the meaning of banging to a whole new level.” Harsh, I know. I can't help it though. I tend to say what's on my mind. Sue me, why don't ya?
Brianna's smile became a glare for a moment before she quickly rearranged her features. “Silly Violet. I'm trying to be nice to you since we'll be hanging out more.” The knowing look on her face made me feel as if there was something that she wasn't telling me.
“What in the world makes you think that we'll be “hanging out more”?” I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling in annoyance.
“I know for a fact that we'll be hanging out more from now on.” There was an evil glint in her eye that made me want to tackle her to the ground and force her to tell me what she was talking about. At least if I did so, I would be putting good use to this football lesson. In front of me, Brianna took a few steps backwards. “You better watch out, Violet,” she spoke.
That sounds more like the Brianna I'm used to. “Are you threatening me, Bri-Bi?” A scowl formed on my face as I stepped closer to her.
“No,” she smirked at me, “I meant it as a warning. Watch out.”
“Isn't that basically the same th—ow!” I clenched my jaw at the pain that was forming on the back of my head and immediately brought my hand up to rub it.
Brianna walked behind me only to return a moment later with a football in her hand. “I told you to watch out.” A small smirk formed on her lips.
“Ms. Forrester! That is not the proper way to catch a football,” a raspy voice yelled from behind me.
The urge to flick off Ms. Botch suddenly overcame me, but I brushed it away and focused on passing the football back and forth with Brianna. The rest of the class period was uneventful with an exception to Brianna's subtle hints of us hanging out in the future. It was surprisingly annoying how nice she was being to me, despite my rude comments toward her.
Blake's words from yesterday resounded in my ears.
“I know she's done a lot to you in the past, but maybe she had a good reason for it? What if she wanted to try and reconcile with you?”
As much as Blake may want to believe that Brianna has every intention of being nice to me, the unmistakably evil glint in her eyes made it perfectly clear that she had ulterior motives.
***
The bus came to a screeching stop in front of my house. Blake, Lena, and I were pleased to finally be rid of the stuffy bus air as we strode up my driveway. We were chatting amiably about Lena's old school as we took a seat on my porch steps.
“Your old school sounds awesome, Lenny.”
“It sure was. Awesome doesn't even come close to it.” Lena sighed wistfully as she reminisced.
Blake ran a hand through his hair leaving it disheveled when he removed it. “So then why'd you leave?”
“Not that we aren't happy you did,” I added on.
Lena seemed hesitant to respond. “The school itself was awesome, but the people who went there weren't.” Lena's shoulders tensed as she locked her jaw and clenched her fists. She was silent as if she was debating on whether she should elaborate on her statement, but then seemed to think better of it. The only sound came from Lena's ragged breathing. I would have given anything to know what she was thinking about at that precise moment. Her facial expression was perfectly arranged and free of all emotions.
“You don't have to tell us, Lena.” Blake's voice was compassionate and caring. I wanted to disagree with him and say that Lena didn't have to tell him, but she certainly had to tell me. If I don't find out what happened at her old school then it's all I'll think about until I figure it out.
“It's not my secret to tell.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked away, not meeting our eyes.
The silence that enveloped us was anything but comfortable. My eyes focused on the one dry patch of grass on our lawn until the sound of a revving car engine caught my attention.
Brianna's car pulled into her driveway. Three thin girls climbed out before their leader turned the car off and pushed her own door open. The girl who got out of the passenger seat had familiar red hair, and her face was splattered with freckles. I was caught off guard when Brianna and her fellow skanks—with an exception to Ella because as far as I know, she hasn't made her skank-itude known yet—began to saunter across the lawn and over to where we were seated.
The four girls stood in front of Lena, Blake, and I whilst Brianna cleared her throat to gain our attention. Lena, who had been looking off into the distance, snapped her head toward the girls.
“Hey Ocean, Violet,” Brianna paused for a second as she looked Lena up and down before saying, “Red.”
Ocean? Since when does Brianna have a nickname for Blake? “Ocean?” I voiced my thoughts.
Brianna shrugged and bit her bottom lip, her eyes meeting Blake’s. “His eyes remind me of the ocean.”
Blake wrapped his arm around my waist as if I was going to spring up at Brianna at any moment. Why would I care if she gave him a nickname?
In response to Brianna's statement, Lena rolled her eyes, looked past Brianna and addressed her sister. “Why are you here? Don't you have homework to do? Does dad know where you are?”
Ella rolled her eyes, glaring down at her older sister. “That's none of your business.”
Lena scoffed, pushed herself off of the step she was sitting on, and brushed off her bottom. “Come on. I'm taking you home.”
“Who made you queen of everything?” Ella questioned, crossing her skinny arms over her chest, and not once breaking eye contact with her older sister. “Besides, Brianna already offered to give me a ride home.”
“Do you really want a repeat of last year? Can't you stop for a second and think about how your actions affect other people?”
Ella took a step toward Lena. Her face was turning red, and her hands were balled up at her sides. “I hate you. I really do.”
“I'm glad the feeling is mutual.”
“I'm glad too. More importantly, I came to talk to Mrs. Forrester. So anytime now would be fine,” Brianna spoke, looking bored with the situation at hand.
Everyone's head turned to look at Brianna. She smiled sheepishly before gesturing for Blake and me to move out of her way.
Blake stood up, holding his hand down to me, but I ignored it. “Why do you need to talk to my mom?”
“Someone's nosy.”
“Get off of my lawn and take your supporting sluts with you.”
Brianna smiled and pushed past me, ringing the doorbell. Before I had time to react, the door opened and there stood my mother. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and she busily wiped her hands on the front of her apron.
“Brianna! It's a pleasure to see you, sweetheart! You're growing up into such a respectable young lady.” Respectable young lady, my ass. To my dismay, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around Brianna in a tight hug. When she finally pulled away, she said, “I'm
so excited to have you and your family here tonight!”
Brianna smiled sweetly. “I'm excited to be coming! Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here. I really appreciate it, Mrs. Forrester.”
I frowned to myself. Staying here? Why would Brianna be staying at my house? What did I do to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment?
My mom smiled, looking over at me as if she had just noticed the rest of us. “Violet, bring your friends in! I can make a quick snack for you all. I hope everyone likes cucumber bites! They taste much better than they sound” The smile that adorned her face resembled that of a child's face on Christmas morning.
Brianna shook her head. “Sorry Mrs. Forrester. My mom just wanted me to see what time would be best for us to come over.”
A small frown played on my mom's lips as she thought. After a moment of silence she said, “Dinner will be ready around six, so anytime around then is good.”
I took this time to speak up before Brianna had a chance. “Anytime for what?”
Brianna turned toward me with a devious smile on her face. “My family is coming over for dinner tonight to talk with your parents and thank them.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I voiced my next thought. “Thank them for what?”
My mom smiled brightly at me. “The Richardson's are going out of town for a while so we offered to keep Brianna while they're gone. Isn't that exciting?”
A hesitant smile formed on my face. “Very exciting.”
Yeah, almost as exciting as cutting off all of your toes one by one.
Chapter 9
Kill me. Kill me now. Spare me from the embarrassment that is Rose Forrester. A mother knows best? Yeah right! Whoever came up with that load of crap needs to do a little more research. It's obvious that my mother doesn't know anything about me.
I scowled down at the dress that my mother had laid out across my bed. It was poofy, white, and had a few black flowers embroidered around the skirt. If mothers really knew best, then my mother would have known that I hate anything that is flowery, poofy, and resembles a dress in any shape or form. Not only did the dress meet all of those requirements, there was only one way to describe it; girly. It was vomit inducing to say the least.
“Hurry up, Violet! The Richardsons will be here any minute now!”
With a frustrated sigh I snatched the gown up and marched over to my bedroom door. One kick to the door sent it slamming loudly and echoing as the wood from the door came into contact with the door frame. A muffled yell came from beyond the closed door causing me to smirk shamelessly. I could just imagine my mother's irritated face as she heard the door slam.
Trudging back over to my bed, I plopped down and examined the dress in my hands. A satisfied smile formed on my face as an idea danced into my head. Maybe this dinner won't be so bad after all.
With newly formed excitement, I stripped out of my pajamas and exchanged them for the dress. I couldn't help comparing my comfortable sweat pants and overly large t-shirt for the chest suffocating and princess styled dress. I still didn't see the point of dressing up for dinner in the first place. It wasn't like I hadn't met Brianna and her parents before. They had seen me countless times. Why was tonight any different?
From downstairs, I heard my mother call up to me again, but the door muffled her voice, making it hard to understand what she had said. A few minutes later, a soft rapping on my door caught my attention. I frowned as I finished pulling my hair up into a high ponytail and went to open the door.
“I'm getting…” I started, but then trailed off as I stared at the person on the other side of the door.
Brianna smiled at me, a wicked glare in her eyes. She gestured with her hands as she said, “Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?”
I stared at her in confusion for a moment before pretending to be deep in thought as I brought my hand up to rub my chin. “I don't remember ordering a stripper.”
Brianna rolled her eyes and pushed past me into my room, taking a seat at my desk chair. “I guess this will have to do.” She sighed deeply.
“Sure, come on in,” I mumbled under my breath earning a curious look from Brianna. As if just hearing what she said, I frowned at her while saying, “Wait. What “will have to do”?”
She rubbed her hands together as if she was washing her hands under an invisible faucet. “This room. Duh, Violet. Use a little common sense.” She tapped her pointer finger to her temple.
“We have a guest room, Dumbo Bimbo. You will definitely not be staying in my room.” I mentally high-fived myself for unintentionally rhyming.
Brianna shrugged her shoulders, giving me a pitying look. “That's not what your mom says. She told me that I could take a look at your room and the guest room and whichever would make me feel more at home is the one that I can use for the next two weeks.” She smiled to herself as she looked me over with scrutinizing eyes. “You would look really pretty in that dress,” she paused for a moment as her eyes inspected me from head to toe once more, “if you did something with that rat's nest that you call hair. Personally, I think you look better in jeans. They hide your cankles nicely.”
“Very mature,” I retorted sarcastically.
Brianna stood up, brushing her bottom off as if my desk chair was covered in dirt. “Like you can talk. At least I don't spend my time rhyming your name with stupid and childish insults.”
A smirk played on my lips. “That's because your underdeveloped brain can't think of anything good to rhyme with Violet.”
In response to my statement, she rolled her eyes and headed back toward my bedroom door. “Dinner should be ready soon. In about five minutes.”
I nodded before realizing that she had her back to me and grunted in response. I busied myself by tightening my ponytail as I shuffled along after Brianna, following the thick scent of her perfume down the stairs and into the dining room. The large wooden table shone brilliantly under the light cast overhead from the chandelier. The lemony fragrance that surrounded the table made me aware that my mom had polished the table before Brianna and her family had arrived. In front of every chair was a place mat that acted as a thin barrier between the table and the fine china that my mother rarely allowed us to eat on.
The woman in question came shuffling out of the kitchen with a wide grin painted onto her face. She was followed closely by Mrs. Richardson, whose heels where clicking loudly against the hardwood floors. Both women were carrying in extravagant dishes of food and placing them in the center of the table. Brianna smiled kindly at my mother before asking her if any extra help was needed in the kitchen.
“You are so well mannered,” she cooed in response to Brianna's question. Her hands pulled at the strings of her apron, taking it off and folding it up neatly. “Your mom and I only have two more dishes to bring in so I think that we can handle it. You and Violet are more than welcome to tell everyone that dinner is ready though.” She gave us a small smile before she turned on her heel and strutted back into the kitchen without waiting to hear our response to her suggestion.
Mrs. Richardson gave me a little wave before turning to follow my mom out of the room. I crossed my arms over my chest moodily as I realized that Brianna and I were left alone again. I could barely stand being in the same school as her and living next door to her, but being in the same room with Brianna Bitch-ardson was my own personal hell.
A wave of realization swept over me and I couldn't help but to cringe at the thought. If Brianna was going to be living in my house, we would be spending a lot more alone time together. Almost immediately anger overtook me, causing me to step a little harder than I had intentionally meant to as I started to walk toward the living room. From behind me I could hear Brianna's feet padding in the opposite direction as she went to get Lilly.
In a few long strides I was nearing the living room where the sounds of voices were steadily growing louder as I approached the room. As soon as I stepped through the doorway the eyes of my father and Mr. Richardson—although he prefe
rs to go by Uncle Steve—snapped to me. My dad stood from his chair and embraced me in a bone crushing hug. The smell of his infamous cologne mixed with the lavender scent wafting from his freshly washed clothes filled my nostrils as my face pressed against his shirt.
“There's my little girl!” he chirped, while ruffling my hair as he released me from his vice-like grip.
Before I even had time to collect myself, I was pulled into another bear hug. “Little Violet! You look more, and more like your mother every day. I swear it was just yesterday that you and Brianna were crawling around in diapers!” He leaned away from me, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking from me to my dad for a moment before saying, “It really is a blessing that she got her looks from Rosie isn't it, Tim?” His tone was playful and to my joy, he released me.
“Dad,” I began, letting my hair loose before pulling it back up into a tighter ponytail as I said, “dinner’s ready.”
Uncle Steve rubbed his hands together as if he was trying to start a small fire in his palms. “I wonder what Rosie has cooked up for us tonight!”
I shrugged and turned toward the kitchen while mumbling, “Probably something that will cleanse our colons.”
Uncle Steve chuckled and slapped a heavy hand to my back and for a moment I thought that maybe he had heard me until he chuckled and said, “I still can't believe how big you've gotten! It really has been too long since we've had a family meal together!”
I nodded although I didn't agree with what he had said. I saw him every once in a while, and I hadn’t grown much since our last family night. Ever since we had first met the Richardson family, Friday's would be the day that we all came together for dinner, games, and movies. Of course it had been fun at times, but after a while I could no longer put up with Brianna's subtle but effective pranks. About two years ago was when I had officially put a stop to our family game nights. I made a huge scene and threw a temper tantrum about how much I hated spending my Friday nights hanging out with family when I could have been out with friends. To my surprise no one had pointed out that I didn’t really have any friends, and instead we just put a stop to the family nights all together. At times I felt bad about ruining it for everyone, but I couldn't deal with Brianna any more.
Crush: A YA Romance Collection Page 30