Chapter 35
June
“Mom, quit taking my mascara!”
“What else should I take? You’ve only got this!”
I sighed. Her coming in and out was making me fly off the handle. Now I couldn’t stand the clacking of her heels on the floor.
“Look, I’m happy that you’re ready for prom. But heads up, I’m wearing jeans.”
“Come on, June, you’ll make me look bad!”
I stared at her, perplexed. “Huh?”
“You’ll make me look like I’m trying too hard.”
I paused to admire the black sheath dress that showcased her lean, slender figure.
“I will?” I exclaimed untactfully.
She looked at me unsatisfied. It was time to backtrack and try again.
“I mean, you look great. You look ten years younger.” I said it because I meant it. Certainly not to get anything in return because the only thing I wanted was to get out of this damn dinner, and that wasn’t happening.
“Are you sure? I don’t look like I’m trying too hard to impress him?” You could tell that she wasn’t used to dating.
“Why? Don’t you want to impress him?”
“I never go out! Let me feel hot for once, June!”
I covered my ears and wrinkled my nose into a grimace. “Why do you have to say it like that? Ew.”
Her eyes went wide. “Isn’t that what they say?”
“Yeah, but they don’t say that about moms!” I exclaimed, making her laugh.
“You’re so grown-up, June. Can you at least put this on?” she suggested, coming back to my room with one of her dresses.
“Since when do you let me borrow your clothes?” I was really skeptical now.
“Since you’ve grown up and they look better on you than me.”
I grumbled, and without being too difficult, I tried on a blue velvet dress that looked like something from the ’90s that Jennifer Aniston would have worn on the red carpet.
It fell right below my knees and wrapped around my curves without squeezing them too much.
“What do you say?” she asked hopefully.
“Eh, it’s too dressy.”
It was actually made for someone who was tall and slender like her. It didn’t do anything for my wide hips and rounded belly.
“You look great, June.”
“It’s a bit tight on me. If I sit down I’ll pop a stitch.”
“What are you talking about? You look gorgeous,” she insisted, bringing me to the mirror.
I kept my head down as a wave of blond hair covered my face. My mom gathered it on my shoulders.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“Why should I?”
“June, look in the mirror. You look gorgeous, how could you not like it?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
I would’ve had a laundry list of objective reasons. My thighs were so soft that they rubbed against each other, same with my arms. Not to mention my round face, the rolls on my stomach, and the stretch marks on my legs.
But my mom didn’t seem to notice any of that. She studied me with dreamy eyes.
“It doesn’t fit me, Mom.”
“Then change,” she said, resigning herself.
“No, I mean—”
“I don’t want you to wear something just to make me happy, but if you could make a sacrifice . . .”
I decided to make what was a small effort for me but would be a major source of joy for her. For once, I appeased her.
“Okay,” I muttered.
I pulled my hair into an updo, leaving a few strands to fall on my face.
“Very sophisticated,” she said, satisfied, even though she didn’t have a clue about style or good taste.
“Thanks, Mom. That’s definitely a compliment coming from you.” She obviously didn’t pick up on my sarcasm. “I really look like a crazy artist’s daughter,” I commented, giving myself a final once-over in the mirror.
“And I look like the crazy artist’s daughter’s sister, right?” Welcome to the insecurity carnival.
“Yeah, Mom. You look very hip.”
“Hot, remember that.”
“Let Jordan say that,” I teased.
The ride over was short, too short for my liking. I didn’t know that the man lived a few blocks away from us. My mom put lipstick on for the hundredth time before getting out of the car. I rolled my eyes. The night hadn’t even started and my patience was already wearing thin.
“You think he spent three hours getting ready? It would’ve already have been a lot if he even took a shower,” I provoked her, opening the car door.
“June, don’t start with that now.”
“We women are required to waste hours waxing, plastering on makeup, and dressing to the nines for people who will only take two minutes to change their underwear.”
She motioned for me to shut up as she rang the doorbell.
“No, seriously. Do you think he spent all day thinking about what tie to wear to impress you?”
“What are you talking about? There’s no need to . . . Shh!” she scolded me as Jordan opened the door.
I heard my mom’s heart drop to her feet.
“Jordan.” Her voice was so shrill that I almost laughed, but I held back.
I gave him the once-over. Okay, he was good looking. Since when could forty-somethings be that attractive? I studied his expensive suit and snow-white shirt that hung perfectly on his broad chest.
“Hi, April, looking lovely as always,” the man said in a strong London accent.
We were done for.
He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then turned to me. “Hi, June. I’m happy you came.”
“You know how it goes. She put a gun to my head. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“June!” exclaimed my mom, her face beet red.
“I’m kidding, obviously.” I giggled.
“Your daughter’s nice,” he murmured, smiling at her before bringing us to the dining room.
“This is my son Jasper.”
A blond eleven- or twelve-year-old boy sat at a set table. He looked at us without saying a word and didn’t even answer us when we said hi.
For a brief moment, Jordan seemed uncomfortable, but he diffused the situation by sitting us at the table.
“Ready for dinner?”
The evening started off with the usual stilted banter. Did you cook? Oh no, I got it catered. You shouldn’t’ve told me! You know how much I love a man who can cook. I rolled my eyes.
By all means, act like I’m not even here, I thought, irked.
I bit into my steak and watched the kid at the other side of the table. Blond curls fell into a pair of vacant eyes. There was something familiar about them. I looked from his nose to Jordan’s. They both had a perfect profile, and that disturbed me.
Something about Jasper bothered me even though he hadn’t even opened his mouth. I looked around, bored. I hadn’t realized how magnificent the house was when we’d arrived.
Christ almighty, they were filthy rich.
A cough interrupted my thoughts. Mom narrowed her eyes and pointed at the kid, inviting me to strike up a conversation with him. I said the first thing that came to my head.
“How’s school?”
He looked at me without answering. He kept staring at me even when he took a sip of his water.
“Jasper, what classes are you taking?” interjected my mom, as if I hadn’t already tried to get him to talk.
He didn’t budge.
Jordan, who didn’t seem particularly capable of handling the situation, served us a second helping of mashed potatoes.
“Jordan, you told me you also have a son who’s a year older than June.”
“Yeah, but Edward’s never home.”
I choked on a piece of steak and started coughing like a crazy person.
“June!”
My mom patted me hard on the back twice. The only one laughing was Jasper.
“Ah, that made you laugh, eh?” I exhaled faintly.
He stared at me with an ambiguous snicker. He seemed amused by my discomfort.
“You were telling us about your son?” My mom feigned comfort as if her daughter didn’t almost just die on her.
“Ah, yeah. How about you tell me about the last collection you exhibited at the gala?”
Jordan changed the subject. Meanwhile, I lost my appetite. Everything was happening too quickly. I heard the front door slam, startling me. Jasper didn’t seem surprised. In fact, he shot me a smile with two dimples on either side of his mouth.
“Sorry, I think that’s my son. Let me handle this, I’ll be right back,” announced Jordan as a shadow of concern flashed in his cobalt eyes.
“You said you weren’t coming back,” I heard him say near the door.
“And yet here I am. Ta-da.”
My heart was about to jump out of my chest. That voice. All of my fears came true in a second.
“I’m having guests over for dinner. Please, go to your room and don’t ruin everything.”
“Sure.”
“Have you been drinking? Jesus Christ, you always do this!”
“Gentlemen.”
I almost had a heart attack when James Hunter appeared in front of me. His hair was messy, his cheeks were flushed, and his pupils were dilated.
“Edward!” his dad scolded.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
I kept my head down, hoping a meteorite would hit me and burn me and this obscene dress. But it never came. I looked up slowly.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
I darted my eyes right and left, pretending that nothing had happened. But alas, I found myself in the lion’s den, next to my scandalized mom to boot.
James pointed at me. “I can’t believe it. You’re a fucking stalker!” he screamed, before turning around and marching up the stairs, followed by a thud and Jasper’s amused smirk.
“I’m so sorry. Forgive me. Sorry, April, my son is a mess.”
My mom calmed Jordan, who was drinking from his wineglass with his hand shaking, down.
“Do you know him?” she asked me under her breath when Jordan left to get something from the kitchen.
Yeah, sure, he’s an insufferable nutcase and an asshole who gets off on ruining other people’s lives.
No, I couldn’t say that with his brother around.
“In passing.”
“Is he in class with you?”
“Yeah, but we don’t get along.”
“Oh my god! He’s not in your group of friends, is he?”
“No, Mom.”
My mom put on a fake smile just as Jordan came back to the dining room. The rest of the dinner went by slowly, and after more conversation that was more boring than a biochemistry lesson, I looked over at the Xbox by the TV.
“Wanna play a game?” I suggested to Jasper, even though I knew the answer.
To my surprise, he got up and sat on the couch. I followed him as the two adults sipped wine and ate dessert.
He passed me a joypad.