14. Archie #2
Frankie props her phone on something, then sits back on an old brown couch and crosses her arms, waiting patiently. When I don’t answer, she raises her eyebrows, same as Mom used to when I was a kid and she knew I’d done something naughty.
“Even if it wasn’t something in the last couple days, you found a lot of ways to pick on Piper when Dad first married Cynthia.
She locked herself in the bathroom to avoid you whenever we had to do things as a family .
” Frankie makes air quotes around the word family, but I’m caught on the fact that Piper used to hide from me. This is the first I’ve heard of it.
“It's the other way around now. She’s found a lot of ways to pick on me.” I start at the beginning with Piper’s alarm going off at five am Sunday morning, hiding the towels, making the water cold.
“She made the water cold?” Frankie interrupts before I even get to the playlist Piper blasted this morning.
“You know, she, like, turned off the thing that makes it hot.” I rub my cheek, which has to look as red hot as it feels.
“You mean the water heater ?”
“You know what a water heater is?” I ask her, astounded that this is common knowledge.
“I mean, I do now.” By now Frankie means now that she doesn’t have assistants to do everything for her like she did when she was in Dad’s good graces.
“Well, I had to google it,” I admit.
Frankie laughs, then smooths her thumb and forefinger over a dark lock of hair with a look of disappointment.
I’m not sure if the look is for me or her hair color. We have the same reddish-brown hair, but hers is long, curly, and— according to nearly every magazine article written about Frankie—her most stunning feature.
When she “escaped” Hollywood, Frankie cut her hair and dyed it dark brown—almost black—so she’d be less recognizable. It must be working because I haven’t seen her in any magazines online or in print for months.
“Why would Piper do all this stuff to you?” she asks, still pulling at her curl. “Yeah, you were a jerk to her, but that was years ago. I can’t imagine she’s petty enough to hold a grudge for this long.”
I hesitate and cut another bite of steak. “She wants me to sign over the deed so the divorce settlement can be over. I guess she thought this would motivate me.” I point to my hair.
“Forget Dad.” Frankie starts laughing again, and I can’t help laughing with her. “Piper’s the one you should be worried about fighting. I’d give up now, if I were you.”
“I’m not backing down, Frankie. If Piper wants to play dirty, I’m ready to get dirty.”
“The way you said that sounds dirty,” she teases, lifting her eyebrows.
“Stop it. She’s our stepsister.”
“Barely,” she scoffs. “We never even lived in the same house. You aren’t blood related, so if you want to get dirty…I’m just saying there’s no law preventing it.”
“I don’t want to get dirty or anything else with Piper Quinn!” I’ve repeated those words—or something close to them—more than once since Piper’s surprise arrival. “She’s determined to make me miserable enough to move out, because she doesn’t know I’m supposed to make her go.”
Frankie stops laughing. “What do you mean?”
I recount my conversation with Dad; how I told him I wasn’t signing and proposed he settle for cash. How he’d said no, forcing me to negotiate by refusing to sign the deed unless he gave me two more weeks in the house. And, finally, that he’d demanded I tell Piper she had to leave.
“I lied and told her we had to share the house until I signed.”
Frankie blinks and offers me a soft smile. “That was a good thing you did for Piper. Solid.”
“This is the thanks I got.” I point to my head again. “But…I reckon she’d be hurt if she knew Dad wanted to boot her, and I’d rather sign over the house than do his dirty work.”
Frankie nods slowly.
“I will get her back for my hair, though,” I add. “If I can’t kick her out, I’ll use my own powers of persuasion to convince her to leave.”
The words taste like a lie, hard and metallic.
“Archie!” Frankie squeals. “Don’t do it. You need Piper as an ally, not an enemy.”
I might have agreed with Frankie a few hours ago, when I still had great hair and didn’t tell Piper she had to leave. Not anymore. I don’t need an ally.
But, if I’m honest…
I kind of like having an enemy.
This little war Piper’s started has sparked something in me. Sparring with her excites me in a way I haven’t felt since I quit surfing competitively. She’s got enough force to take me down, but if I can learn to read her…
I don’t finish that thought. I’m not ready to. It’s been so long since I’ve felt any emotion as intensely as I’ve felt every thing since Piper arrived that I’m not sure what to do. I can’t decide what I’m feeling, but I like really feeling something, good or bad.
“Piper’s the one determined we stay enemies,” I say as much to Frankie as to myself. “I may as well have a bit of fun with it. A few pranks aren’t going to hurt her as much as hearing Dad wants her out would have.”
“Maybe…but, right now you’re fighting Dad on one side and Piper and Cynthia on the other. You’ll be stronger if you work with Piper to get what you both want.”
“Yeah, nah. Not when we both want this house.” I pick at my vegetables which have grown cold.
“That’s not what you both want. What you both want is freedom from Dad—at least financially.”
I still my fork and stare at Frankie’s face on my mobile screen, taking in what she’s said. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t think either of us can trust the other enough to work together.”
Frankie leans closer to the screen. “Listen, Archie, don’t do anything to burn any bridges permanently, okay?”
“Does that go for Dad, too?” I stuff a too-big-bite of carrot into my mouth and smile around it to answer her glare.
“He’s the one who blew up our relationship, then took a flamethrower to it to finish the job.
” The biting sarcasm in her tone isn’t enough to cover the hurt I know she feels over everything that’s happened.
“But that’s beside the point,” she adds, dropping her eyes to the floor.
After a few seconds, she looks back at me.
“I’m going to tell you something you don’t want to hear. ”
“What?” I ask hesitantly.
“Give the house back to Dad, finish your business plan, and get a loan to start Bombora.” Her words are bossy, but her voice isn’t, which is as irritating as the concern on her face.
The worst part is, my confidence takes a massive hit. “You’re the one who told me to refuse to sign so I could sell the house.”
“I did. But you’ve boxed Dad in good and proper, haven’t you? Telling him how he should have settled his divorce, then forcing him to do it your way or turn over your trust. His only way out now is to flatten you.”
“He’s not going to flatten his own kid.” I realize my mistake as soon as the words are out.
Frankie doesn’t have to say aloud what she’s thinking. I can read her face. It says you watched him flatten me.
Silence stretches between us, and I pop a potato in my mouth to fill the space.
“Thanks for hooking me up with Juan,” I say around my bite.
“Did you say you had the weekend off? Let me get you a ticket to fly down Thursday for the AFL playoffs. Everyone will be here. Dex and Britta will be back by then. Rhys is going to try to come. Some other mates, too.”
She shakes her head. “Too many people.”
I should have known that would be a deal breaker. “What if I make it only Dex, Britta, and Rhys?” I’d rather have my sister here than anyone else, but the more people there are, the more likely word will get out she’s in town and she’ll end up getting harassed.
“That’d be nice. I’ll try to get Thursday off. If I can’t, I’ll come down Friday. I will have worked ten days straight by then. I need a break.” Frankie yawns. She probably got up early and worked a full shift today.
“All right,” I say. “Thanks for the advice. Go to bed.”
“Stay out of trouble.” She blows a kiss and ends the call.
I cut a bite of steak and consider what Frankie’s said about making Piper my ally. I picture her watching water drip down my chest, and heat follows the trail her eyes shaped. My hand goes to the spot on my cheek she touched, then to my hair.
Piper won’t get away with turning my hair purple. I’ve already planned my next attack. I planned it after she threatened me this morning, before she did this to my hair. It’s too late to stop now.
Just because I refused to be Dad’s foot soldier doesn’t mean I want Piper around. In two weeks, either she’ll be gone, or I will.
That’s very much what I want…Piper out of my life forever.
Even if—and I’ll never admit this out loud—I can’t stop thinking that if being in the same room with her makes me feel more alive, what would kissing her do to me?