Chapter 5 #2
“Unless you want to ride shotgun?” Mols offered. Err, no thanks, I’d rather be faced with a shotgun than sit in the front with Storm Summers.
“Nah, I’m good,” I replied and threw my backpack onto the seat before climbing in.
As we both got into the car and put our seatbelts on, Storm stepped on the gas, and we were off.
The inside of the car was as ostentatious as the outside.
The seats were pale cream leather, and the dash was a polished walnut with matching trim.
It wasn’t free from clutter, though, which reflected the chaos that came with its owner.
There was a gym bag in the footwell, a random pom-pom, and a guy’s letterman jacket on the seat beside me.
Interesting, Storm had quit cheerleading, yet she still had a pom-pom and someone’s letterman jacket?
Storm had turned the music down slightly so we could talk, and I could feel her eyes burning through the top of my head from the rearview mirror.
“So, I’m just going to cut to the chase,” Storm began. Her voice didn’t sound as nasal as it usually did. “As Molly knows, I give pretty shitty apologies, but I’ll try my best.
Here we go.
I shuffled back into my seat and drew my gaze to meet her half reflection. I attempted not to tell her to blow me with my eyes.
As I opened my mouth to comment, Molly twisted in her seat and held up a hand. “Please, Harper, just listen to what Storm has to say.”
And then the verbal diarrhea started, and I welcomed it as much as the coming of the Third Reich (my last class of the day had been World History). Throughout her entire speech, I was giving her the finger from behind her seat. Yep, I had sunk into the next level of high school pettiness.
As Storm drove us home, the long way around, she apologized for past behaviors and for treating me like I was diseased.
I had to bite my lip when she spoke about not having much experience of dealing with people from ‘broken homes,’ which was ridiculous, considering that wasn’t me.
My parents were still together when they died.
That comment didn’t register with Molly, who was messaging on her phone.
I nodded along and kept a smile on my face, but I still felt her apology was disingenuous.
As Storm pulled up in front of my house, she turned in her seat.
“I mean it, Harper. I hope we can be friends. I’m ready to start fresh if you are.
” Great, put the ball in my court, then if I don’t do anything with that, I’m the bad guy.
I wondered if there was anyone that Storm couldn’t manipulate, and then one person came to mind.
Reed. Although she’d tried her best, she’d never had Reed Prescott in the palm of her manicured hand.
My eyes flicked suspiciously towards the guy's jacket beside me.
I remember Reed roasting Storm once in the middle of the cafeteria in school last year. He’d sauntered over whilst she was in the middle of doing what she did best, talking about herself.
Micah had asked him why he was late to lunch, interrupting what Storm had been saying. Reed had replied to say that he’d just got back from the center of the universe, but how odd it was that he hadn’t seen Storm there.
Oh, how I had laughed from my table. The cheer captain had pretended she didn’t understand, but that was bullshit.
She acted like she was stupid, but Storm Summers was terrifyingly shrewd and super intelligent.
Like Phoenix, although he didn’t play the dumb card like she did, he just didn’t make the effort, full stop.
I glanced between the two girls, feeling their eyes on me as they waited for my response. Molly’s cell now sat on her lap, although that wouldn’t be for long; Mols couldn’t risk a case of Hudson withdrawal.
In a normal, sane world, Molly and Storm wouldn’t be friends. Storm had pushed Molly into the swimming pool when she first started at the Heights, but she’d still forgiven her in a heartbeat. Bearing in mind that Mols had nearly drowned, being a non-swimmer at the time.
Maybe I was the problem, with my chip on the shoulder attitude. If only I could be more like Molly, maybe my life would be easier. And maybe not. I imagined that without Hudson’s protection, people would walk all over Mols, too. That’s what usually happened to the nice girls.
Molly Miller was Hudson’s everything; you only messed with her if you had a death wish. I wondered what it would be like to be Phoenix’s everything. And yes, he was protective of me, but only when it suited him.
Having been successfully railroaded by the two calculating females in front of me, there was nothing I could do but fake-graciously accept her offer. Oh, lucky me. I had been deemed worthy by the ex-cheer captain of our school.
“Absolutely. No hard feelings. Clean slate, here we come.”
I should get a BAFTA for my performance. Both Molly and Storm squealed their delight and clapped their hands. Please save me from the antics of girly girls.
And then Storm invited me to a mixer event that she was throwing over the weekend.
It wasn’t a sorority thing; Storm thought herself way too good for living the Greek life.
It was being held at her house with a mixer theme for friends and associates of her father.
It was also her parents' anniversary. Had I not trusted Molly implicitly, I would have suspected Storm was up to no good, maybe inviting me so she could embarrass me in front of the upper crust of Newport.
Due to the good weather, she explained that the party would be held outside in the gardens of their estate. And of course, the Olympic-sized swimming pool was mentioned. Unlike the small one, Molly and I would paddle in at her house.
“If you do come, bring a bathing suit,” Storm added. “Daddy has invited some important people and so you never know, you may get to meet your future husbands.”
Molly and I exchanged an amused glance.
“Sounds cool,” I lied, as making idle conversation with the offspring of dull political types wasn’t my bag. I had never been a social climber type.
“You could ride with Hudson and me?” Molly added brightly. She was clearly reminding Storm that she was off the market. Great. Gooseberry time. I hated being the third wheel.
Stop being ungrateful, my conscience kicked in.
“Or I can get Daddy’s new driver to pick you up? He’s called Jacob, and he’s as fit as fuck. He used to be in the US Marine Corps.” I wondered if Reed had met the elusive Jacob.
“No, it’s fine. If I come, I’ll ride with Hudson and Mols.”
“Please tell me Hudson doesn’t still drive that shit-box Ford of his?
” Storm said, turning her nose up. I recalled that Hudson once offered Storm a ride when her car was being serviced.
I had been sitting in the back and remembered it well.
With a horrified look, she’d asked, “Is it safe in there?” It was either Hudson’s wheels or walking home in the rain.
She chose the car. That’s Storm Summers living on the edge for you.
“He does and he loves it,” Molly replied proudly.
“Has he nailed you in it yet?” Storm whispered with a dirty grin.
Molly blushed profusely. “If that means what I think it means, then no, he hasn’t.” I was so relieved that was her answer. The next time I set foot in Hudson’s wheels, if they’d had sex in there, would be—err—let me see, never.
Storm composed herself and backed peddled. “Good. Having sex in cars is so last season.” No doubt she had a fair amount of experience there. She then added. “So, what do you say, Harper? Will you come?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Will all my brothers be there?”
“They’ve been invited, and so I hope so.
The more fit guys there, the better.” I knew her ‘hope so’ only extended towards Hudson and Reed; that one wasn’t a head-scratcher.
Storm and Phoenix argued more than Phoenix and me.
Almost like real sibling rivalry, and I had witnessed what that looked like with Dalton and Daisy.
Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen? And, who knew what types of things I would find lying about there? Maybe I could add to my collection? Taking something of Storm's would never make me feel guilty. She had way too much shit anyway.
The girl had been spoiled and cosseted her entire privileged life.
Entitled people annoyed me. It was one of those peeves that Phoenix and I both shared.
Funny, considering I used to be one of them before my parents died.
But that’s the difference, I knew what loss felt like; to have something only for it to be snatched away.
I blamed that intense need I felt to steal on that very thing.
I wasn’t stupid; I’d Googled kleptomania.
I just preferred not to diagnose myself.
“Here you go,” Storm said as she steered the car over to the sidewalk by my house.
“Thanks for the ride,” I replied, and that’s when I saw it. Considering my earlier mean girl thought about no one ever wanting to marry Storm, there was a large diamond ring on her engagement finger. It was huge, and I wondered if it was a real diamond.
After being so cold with her in the car, I decided to leave with a compliment. “Nice ring.”
“Oh yes, Storm. That’s gorgeous,” Molly echoed, grabbing her hand.
Storm smiled at me in the rear-view mirror, glanced down at her hand, and then pulled it from Molly’s.
“Thanks. It’s just a dress ring,” she explained, sliding it off her finger and placing it in the small shelf that sat under the heating dials for the car.
“It sometimes makes my finger green,” she added, explaining why she’d just removed it.
I felt that familiar urge swell inside me.
If it were just a dress ring, she wouldn’t miss it if I took it.
I filed away its existence and then cursed myself. I was supposed to be trying to stop.