by Nora Cobb
“That’s better,” he nods. “I like it. Now I can see both my children at the same time. And it looks like they’re among a garden in bloom. How appropriate.”
The sarcasm is apparent—but not commented on—as we finish our meals and get the fuck out of there.
***
“God, I am so hungry,” I moan, holding my rumbling stomach.
After dinner, I get my car keys as Vicki asks Dad if he wants a burger. He pulls out his wallet and hands her a couple of bills, so I know the answer is yes. Dad promised to have a talk with the cook, circumventing our mother entirely. The house has three working kitchens. We should be able to eat whatever we want in a separate wing.
But for now, we’re driving over to the Shack before I pass out. “So, what does Dad want?” I ask.
“He wants two cheeseburgers, stacked, and a bag of fries.”
I blink my eyes. “That’s a lot of food.”
“The man is hungry, Troy.”
I smile, watching the road as the sun starts to set. Dinner on the weekends is early, so we have the rest of the evening to prepare for the week. Monday is just a day away, and I have something on my mind. Something I have to discuss with Vicki because it’s getting critical. I don’t know how to phrase it, so I just leap right in.
“You’re spending too much time with Arielle.” My voice is stern. “You need to spend time with other people.”
“Are you still sore that she dumped you for Lucas?”
“I wasn’t sore when it happened.”
“Good,” she chuckles, “because he took a bullet for you. You should be thankful.”
I shake my head and pause as I navigate the traffic circle. “Look, Arielle is bad news. Once you get tangled up with her, it’s hard to get out.”
“Is that why you fucked her and dumped her?”
I wince at the words that come out of my sister’s mouth. I can still remember when she used to blush when she heard the word damn.
“Vicki, ease up,” I frown, pulling into the parking space. I cut the engine. “I’m your brother. You don’t have to try so hard to shock me.” I look at her up and down in her tight jeans and body-hugging fuzzy sweater. When did my little sister get breasts? I’m starting to understand why our mother is so freaked out by Vicki’s behavior. “Just tone it down.”
She says nothing before jumping out of the car. Vicki takes running steps to keep up with my long stride and walks toward the building in silence. I’m really at a loss as to what to do. She’s not wrong though. Lucas did save me from Arielle.
Marriage for students at Montlake is a crapshoot. Sometimes, you get a choice, but for the most part, you’re told who to marry, and you accept it. It’s a business deal like any other. Nothing personal. But Arielle is the type of woman you make deals to avoid. I didn’t get it until we started dating. She took me into her confidence and bragged about the fucked-up shit she would do. Not just to Natalie, but to other kids, for no other reason than she wanted to, or that she was bored, or that they had on a corny pair of shoes or thick glasses. I know I’m no saint, but I can give a reason for my madness. With Arielle, there is no logic.
We step up to the counter and order our food. Vicki pulls out the money Dad gave her, but I shake my head and pay for all of it. Shyly, she smiles as she shoves the twenties back into her pocket. We sit down at a table and wait for our number to be called.
“So, if you don’t like Arielle anymore,” she asks softly, “who should I hang with?”
I met her gaze. “What about Natalie?”
Vicki laughs. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”
“I thought you liked Natalie when you met her.” I lean back against the wooden booth and stare hard at my sister’s face, reading her expressions that she tries to hide.
“She seems okay,” Vicki starts to explain, “A little confused, but okay.”
“What does that mean?”
Vicki looks at me as if I should know better. “She’s dating all the captains in the school. Like the girl can’t make up her mind.” The corners of Vicki’s mouth curl into a nasty twist. “When do you get your turn, big brother?”
Our number is called before I can respond. I don’t want to continue this discussion here. I grab our bags of food, barely waiting for Vicki to pump out a container of ketchup. She catches up to me in the car and jumps in. Her eyes watch me in the dim light as I back out. And they don’t leave my face while I drive down the dark road heading for our house.
“What?” I ask tensely. “What is it?”
She looks away. “There are days when you remind me more and more of our mother.”
“What does that mean?” I bite out.
“Don’t you think I have a brain?” she asks. “I know Arielle can be a jerk, but she wants nothing from me. And I can’t do anything for her. But I find her entertaining.”
“That’s not a good reason to hang with someone,” I reply.
“Look, I’m not a kid anymore, and I resent you treating me like one. You’ve become just as controlling as our mother. Where’s the protective big brother that I used to have?”
My voice is barely a whisper. “Don’t you think that I’m still trying to protect you? Even if you don’t realize it?”
I pull my car into the driveway and turn off the engine, but we don’t move for the front door. For a long while, we sit there in the dark and stare at the house. The floodlights cast shadows on the carved façade, and at the wrong angle, it looks like a film set for a horror movie rather than a suburban mansion. I want to ask Vicki where my little sister disappeared to, but I know where she went. She got lost at a party and never came back home.
“So tell me about Natalie?” she asks, her eyes staring at my profile again. “Are you that into her?”
I take in a breath. “She’s nice. But it’s not like that. She’s just a nice person. We had some problems, but it turns out that she’s okay. You know, nice. She’s a very nice person.”
Vicki laughs. “You must have said nice in that sentence twenty times. If you wanted to date her, I wouldn’t mind. I might like her better if you dated her.”
“Why is that?”
“Because when you’re around Natalie, you remind me more of the big brother that I remember. You’re more protective and cool, not bossy and a pain in the ass.” She pauses. “Also, when you spend time at her house, you’re less tense when you come home.”
“Come on, the food’s getting cold.” I snatch the bags out of the back seat and head toward the house. Vicki runs behind me, eating a fry that she snatched from the bag. It looks good, and I’m so hungry, I grab a handful. Vicki grabs my arm and stops me before the front door.
“Troy, you’re slipping,” she whispers. “Mother will flip if she sees those bags.”
I nod. “And she’ll confiscate it and eat it later.”
“In her walk-in closet,” giggles Vicki.
We sneak around the back of the house, hugging the walls as if we’re breaking in. The lights in Dad’s study are on, and he’s looking at something on the computer screen intently. Dad’s absorbed by whatever he’s looking at.
“Oh God,” Vicki sighs. “I hope it’s not porn.”
I scowl at her, tapping gently on the window pane until Dad looks up. Like an owl’s, his eyes are circles, and Vicki giggles. I hold up the bags and Dad smiles as he opens the window for us.
“Clever kids,” he beams, pulling Vicki into the cozy room, “I can always count on you two.”
Vicki peeks at the computer screen and laughs. The browser is open to an online store featuring free home delivery. The page is filled with enticing pictures of glazed nuts and dried fruit mixes. “Ordering food online, Daddy?”
Dad finishes chewing a handful of fries. “I earn billions of dollars a year, but I eat like a starved rabbit who can’t afford a carrot. Not anymore.”
Dad invites us to eat in the study, but we sneak upstairs to my room. I had a lock installed, and after th
e door is bolted, we spread out on the carpet and start eating tasty burgers until we’re satiated.
The night Vicki arrived, Dad texted Mother knowing she wouldn’t read her text during the meeting. I was thankful Natalie was safely gone, but I never did learn why Vicki left rehab and why our mother didn’t send her back immediately. I have a lot of questions to ask, but I’ve been hesitant to learn the answers.
“You changed your room again?” she asks, lying on her back, dangling a fry above her open mouth.
Weeks ago, I yanked down the nautical flags and tossed the navy and white striped bedding into the basement. I told the staff I wanted the room painted, but I had no color in mind. I wanted something lighter, so I wouldn’t feel I was sitting in a dark hole. Dad’s assistant suggested hiring a stylist, and by the end of the week, my room was painted in monochromatic shades of gray. It looks cool, grown-up, and finally, I feel I’m living in my own space.
Vicki switches on the television, but I turn it off. Her eyes are heavy from eating too many carbs much too fast, and she stares at me, wondering what’s up.
“We haven’t finished talking,” I reply.
“What else do you want to know?”
“Why didn’t Mother send you straight back?”
I’m expecting a straight answer. Vicki’s hair’s spread out around her, but it doesn’t resemble a halo. It looks like a headdress made of golden blonde feathers, and she’s ready for battle. I sit up straight, staring down at her, wondering if the answer will join us together or split us apart.
“I thought you knew,” she sighs.
“Stop stalling,” I reply in an even tone; no anger, just firmness. “Why didn’t Mother send you back?”
“I’m engaged, Troy.”
I scoff. “To who?”
Her gaze meets mine. “To Connor Bouchard.”
Fuck. I keep the disappointment to myself. Cora Bouchard’s little brother is an okay kid, but he’ll be no match for Vicki. He’s soft, gullible, and pampered like a toy dog in a tote bag. Vicki will eat him alive. And if she doesn’t, then our mother will.
“I thought it was off,” I reply in a whisper.
“It was until Arielle married Lucas.”
I scoff. “You know, they discussed me marrying Cora once.”
“Do you want to?”
I shake my head. “Not really.” I wouldn’t have minded Cora as a wife. She’s attractive and malleable. She would’ve been less to deal with compared to Arielle, but Cora’s expensive. I’d have to earn twice what Dad brings in to keep up with Cora’s frivolous spending. Cora bragged once that she donates all her clothing to the local church, worn or not, once a year. She seems to think this action alone makes her virtuous. Cora and Connor—trifle and trifling.
I continue, “I always thought that marriage pact was supposed to be for Cora and me. I didn’t think Mother would be so pushy.”
“When you got engaged to Arielle, Mother quickly moved onto the next best thing.” Vicki points to herself. “It’s okay, I guess. I wasn’t planning much for my future except getting high.”
Vicki winces when I kick the foot of the bed with my heel. My mind is racing as I think about Lucas and the misery I see on his face daily. I don’t want to see it on someone else’s. Against his will, Lucas saved me from Arielle. I know he’s in pain, and I feel terrible about it. But it’s different when it’s my own sister. The panic seizes my gut when it’s this close to home. I have to save her.
Once upon a time, Vicki was a free spirit, and when I look at her now, I can still make out that little girl whose feet barely touched the earth. I can handle the stress and the pain, but she can’t. Last time, Vicki chose alcohol as an escape route, but what will she choose next time?
“Vicki, I promise that I’ll get you out of it, one way or another.”
Her gaze leaves mine as she looks at the empty bag lying near her hand. She shakes it, and a fry topples out. It’s hard, small, and misshapen. She chucks it back into the bag.
“I appreciate it, Troy,” she says, “but you couldn’t save me before, so why should I believe you can save me now?”
I move over to Vicki’s side and sit beside her. “Because I’m older, and I can do a whole lot more.”
Her eyes are hopeful as she looks up at me, but her smile betrays the sadness within. “You can try, big brother. You can try.”
CHAPTER 5
Natalie
It’s April first, and so far, nobody has fooled me. The diner has become our hangout away from Montlake. The art building is long gone, and the foundation for the new Page Visual Communication Center will be poured in a few weeks, as soon as the weather warms up. The courtyard has been replaced by the diner, and instead of hosting the outcasts of Montlake, it’s now the nerve center against Arielle.
It’s after school, and thank God, the sun is still out as Beth and I park our cars in the municipal parking lot and head over to meet Cora in the diner.
Lexi is firmly on Team Arielle, and it’s forcing a wedge between her and Cora. I find that amazing. Cora always seemed like the die-hard, and Lexi seemed edgier and ready to rebel. Still, looks are deceiving as Cora slides into the booth at the diner to plot revenge. She has no intel on Arielle today except that she’s backing off Lucas and spending more time at her parents’ house.
Cora eats a kale salad with bacon bits as if it’s an ice-cream sundae. It amazes me that this girl can be satisfied by raw leaves. She’s guaranteed to be skinny forever.
“You aren’t worried about Arielle?” I ask. “Catching you with us?”
Cora shakes her wavy red curls. “Nope, Arielle thinks Bloomridge Avenue is low-rent.” She frowns, looking down at the scuffed floor. “Just because they don’t have a Lululemon, I guess.”
I smile and take a large bite of my grilled chicken Caesar sandwich. “So, I guess no news of Arielle is good news.”
“That’s not right.” Beth frowns at her spinach and feta panini. “No news means we’re in the dark.”
“Well, she’s stopped digging into Lucas,” Cora continues. “Cromwell called them into his office, and a guidance counselor gave them a lecture. He told them they were setting a bad example and lowering school spirit.”
Beth puts her panini on her plate. “I should have ordered a gyro.” She sighs. “Yeah, that whole marriage thing ... it’s making me want to stay single.”
Out of nowhere, Cora whimpers. At first, I don’t know what she’s doing. I don’t understand that sound. It’s like a combination of a sneeze and a hiss, but we watch as a huge teardrop rolls down her face and lands on her plate.
Beth’s hand grips her fork like a talisman. She looks at me, and I look at her. Her mouth scrunches up as she sits back, trying to distance herself from what’s coming. I nudge Beth’s shoulder, frowning, and mouth the words, “Say something to her.”
The noise comes again from Cora’s trembling lips. And then she makes this wheezing sound. Maybe she has allergies or food poisoning? I look at Beth again, but she’s just staring across the table in confusion. Fuck, I’ve got to do something.
“Cora,” I say softly. “Are you okay?”
Her face is bright red, and it matches her hair and lipstick perfectly. I swear I bite my lip when I turn to look at Beth. Beth’s eyes are bugging as she stares at Cora. Poor Cora.
“Are you ill?” I whisper.
Cora shakes her head and then lets out a wail. We get looks. The waitress, who must be the same age as our teachers, leans over the counter, staring down the aisle at us. Alarmed, she wastes no time hurrying toward our table.
I grab Cora’s hand, and Beth grabs the other. “Can I have a glass of water for my friend?” I ask.
“Is she choking?” the waitress asks, as she moves a chair aside.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “Cora, can you speak to me?”
She sobs and tears run down her face, leaving dark streaks of mascara. “I’m scared to get married.”
Exasperated, the wai
tress throws her hands in the air as she walks away to another table. A few heads continue to look over the booths in our direction, but soon Cora is breathing normally, and her face has cooled off. But the waitress is kind enough to return and bring Cora a wet towel to dab her face. I thought Cora would turn up her nose at the dingy white cloth, but she doesn’t. She wipes her face, clearing away the makeup. Surprisingly, Cora looks younger and sweeter without a layer of brightly colored product on her face. She inhales a few times and then leans back in her seat.