Chapter 19
ZOEY
My dad won’t forgive me if he catches me doing this, but I don’t give a shit right now.
Okay, so he’ll forgive me, but he’ll be pretty pissed before he does. And I also don’t care about that. I can face the wrath of Grumpy-Ass Zander Donohue, dammit.
All the little kids are in bed now, so this is my chance.
Mom and Dad are downstairs talking with the other adults.
They’re laughing and oblivious to the fact that they even have children.
I don’t know where Uncle Wily and Aunt Libby are, but if I’m super quiet, hopefully they won’t catch me sneaking into my parents’ room.
I check the coast is clear and nearly jump out of my skin when the door beside me pops open.
“Shit,” I whisper, patting my chest when I see Logan standing there smirking at me.
Cole’s head appears a second later, because these two act as though they’re one human being.
“What’s up, sis?” Logan’s smile grows.
I hate that I’m so transparent around these two.
“Oh, hey, Zoey.” Dom waves from behind them, and I lift my hand, giving him a closed-mouth smile.
I’m pretty sure he’s been crushing on me since I acquired boobs last year, and it’s super awkward.
We spent a week with them at the beach last summer, and the way his eyes bulged when I strolled out of the house in my bikini was so embarrassing.
He tried really hard but couldn’t stop staring at my chest.
No one else seemed to notice, and I didn’t know what the hell to do.
In the end, I took him aside and whisper-barked in his face, “Quit it! You’re creeping me out.”
His face went ashen, his eyes all wide and scared. “What did I do?”
“You’re staring at my boobs, dumbass! Stop being such a—”
“Was I?” His face went bright red, and I swear he looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You’re just really pretty, and I don’t where else to look.”
I closed my eyes with a sigh and patted his shoulder. “Dude, you’re too young for me, so please can you get over this crush like ASAP, because it’s going to make family gatherings really weird.”
He dipped his head, nodding with a sad pout. “I know.”
I felt kind of bad for him and ended up kissing his cheek and promising that one day he’ll meet a girl who will steal his heart.
“But it’s not me. It never will be, okay? So just… move on. And try to practice the art of not ogling girls.”
He glanced up, his face bunching with confusion. “What does ogling mean?”
“Staring at people in a way that makes them feel like a piece of meat. I have a head, a heart, a brain… and they all work. So start showing me a little respect, okay?”
His eyes popped wide with worry. “I didn’t mean to not respect you. I really like you, Zoey. Please don’t be mad at me.”
With another sigh, I promised him I wasn’t. “But I will be if you don’t show a little self-control. You’re eight, you shouldn’t even be interested in eyeing up girls yet.”
And now he’s nine, and even though I haven’t sensed him checking me out since I got here, he’s still got this dopey smile on his face.
Ugh—the older he gets, the more aware he’ll become and the harder this will be. All I can hope is that some sweet girl will come along and steal his heart before I have to give him the hard word again.
At least if anything happens this weekend, I can tell him I have a boyfriend now. Well, he’s not actually my boyfriend, but the way things are heading, he soon might be.
Curry.
His name makes my lips twitch, and as I stare at my siblings and Dom, I realize I could get them to help me out.
Checking over my shoulder, I then lean in and whisper, “I need to check my phone. All the adults are downstairs right now. The only ones not accounted for are your parents.” I look at Dom.
“So, do you think you guys can stand guard for me? If anyone comes up the stairs or a door opens on this hallway, you gotta let me know.”
Cole crosses his arms, looking all business as he narrows his eyes at me. “What do we get for our services?”
I roll my eyes as Logan jumps all over this.
“It’s pretty risky, Zo. I think we’re gonna have to demand two empties of the dishwasher, plus a room tidy.”
“Your room?” I balk at them. “Forget it. That place is a cesspit.”
“What’s a cesspit?” Dom asks.
“A really gross, disgusting, smelly place.”
Dom laughs. “There’s no way my mom would let me get away with that.”
“Our mom doesn’t either,” Cole argues before glaring at me. “Which is why our room is awesome, and if you want our help, you’re gonna have to agree to tidying it.”
“Including dusting and vacuuming,” Logan adds.
Someone’s voice carries up from the stairwell, and I whip a look over my shoulder before growling, “Okay, fine. Two dishwashers and one room. Done.”
“And what are you gonna give Dom?” Logan points over his shoulder.
Dom blushes and shakes his head. “She doesn’t have to give me anything. I’ll do guard duty for free.”
“Your loss, bro.” Logan slaps Dom’s chest with the back of his hand.
“Come on, guys.” Cole tips his head, leading the way like he always does.
“Thank you,” I whisper, ducking past him and into our parents’ room while the boys set up post on either side of the door and Dom keeps watch at the top of the stairs.
Cole’s instructing them on where to stand and what call to use if they see movement.
My lips twitch with amusement, listening to him acting like the head of security for some big-wig politician or something. Honestly.
Running around the side of the bed, I dive for Dad’s bag. He slipped my phone into his back pocket when he took it off me, but surely he’s transferred it into—
“Yes,” I softly squeal, pulling it out and waking up the screen.
I’ve got 20 percent battery left, which will totally give me enough time to check my messages and maybe send a kissy face to Curry.
Is that too forward?
I am his valentine, right?
I can totally do that.
Unlocking my phone, I notice I have a few notifications from my friends and quickly start checking them with a smile… that immediately fades.
Abs: I’m so sorry.
Bex: What a dickbiscuit. Sorry, sweets. You deserve better.
I have no idea what they’re talking about until I scroll down our group chat and spot the photos.
Curry making out with a girl. Camila Rossi. I recognize her because she has the best hair. It’s long and black and shiny, and she always braids it in really artistic ways. She’s one of the coolest girls in school, and she knows it.
Curry’s tongue looks to be impressively far inside her mouth, his hand squeezing her ass as she grips his shoulders.
And my insides start to curdle.
Abs: My brother took these at the mall today. Curry must have gone there after dropping you off.
I want to reply, asking why her brother would take photos of him, but then I remember that he was standing there, frowning at me when I jumped into Curry’s car after school.
Forcing myself to look at the picture again, I can see that yep… Mr. Valentine was wearing those clothes today, so the chances of this being true are probably quite high.
Flicking my thumb, I get to the bottom of Abby’s and Bex’s ranting comments and spot another image. Curry’s smiling down at the girl, and she’s holding a Valentine’s Day card. It’s exactly the same as the one he gave me.
Shit! How many of those did he have?
I want to believe this image was from last year.
Maybe I can talk myself into believing that this is just a big misunderstanding.
But Camila’s in the same clothes she wore to school today, as well.
He must have dropped me off, taken his cousins home—if they even were his cousins—then met up with Camila at the mall to get his Valentine’s kiss from her.
I thought he liked me.
I thought I was special.
The phone slips out of my hand as I blink at the wall, my eyes burning, my chest feeling all tight and prickly.
“Coo-wee. Coo-wee!” I hear a soft shout from the door and quickly scramble to hide the phone back in Dad’s bag.
I can’t remember which pocket I got it out of. Shit!
“Coo-wee. Coo-wee!”
“I’m coming,” I whisper-bark over my shoulder, shoving the phone into the front compartment and jumping to my feet.
My throat is swelling with emotion, but I clamp it down, about to reach for the door handle, then press myself against the wall when I hear Uncle Wily’s voice.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Nothin’,” Cole replies.
“Just hangin’,” Logan finishes.
“Uh-huh.”
“Hey, Dad.” Dom’s voice gets louder. “Where’ve you been?”
“Just had a shower.”
I picture my uncle—all tall and big, towering over the boys—and I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t question them further.
“So, it’s getting kind of late. Think it’s time for you guys to head to bed and rest up. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, cool. Good idea.”
I wince at Logan’s breezy response. Good idea? He’s ten and being told to go to bed, and he says good idea!
Uncle Wily snickers, and I can picture him mussing up Logan’s hair as he says, “Okay, you three amigos. Go brush your teeth, pajama up, and into bed. I’ll come check on you guys in ten minutes. Cool?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
“Sounds good.”
Seriously, Logan! Sounds good? Stop saying stupid shit!
“Riiiight.” Uncle Wily is definitely starting to sound suspicious.
Thankfully, Dom saves the day. “Hey, Dad. Have you seen my football around? I saw Seb playing with it earlier, but as usual, he didn’t return it to me. Think you can help me find it before bed?”
“Sure thing, kiddo.”
“I’ll check my room again. Would you mind checking downstairs?”
“Yeah, of course. Back in ten.”
My breath is still on hold until I hear Uncle Wily’s lumbering footsteps getting softer. And then the door pings open.
“Okay, go, go, go,” Cole orders, yanking my arm and pulling me out of the room.
“Dude, I think we should be charging you a second room clean after that.” Logan runs a shaky hand through his hair like he just did me this huge favor.
Part of me wants to growl at him, insult his transparent replies, but all I can see right now is Curry making out with another girl, and my stomach hurts and… Why do boys have to be so stupid!
“Hey, are you okay?” Dom’s voice is soft and sweet, and it’s only then that my brothers even notice the fact that I’m fighting tears.
“I’m fine.” My voice wobbles.
“Zo-Zo.” Logan steps up, pulling me into a hug whether I want one or not.
For a ten-year-old, he’s surprisingly strong, and I let him hold me, because he’s getting taller now and I can bend my neck and rest my cheek on his shoulder…
and having a shoulder to cry on feels kind of good right about now.
“What happened?” Cole asks, his hand skimming down my back. His voice is firm and quietly demanding.
“Give her some space, dude.” Logan cups the back of my head.
“Someone’s obviously upset her. What did you see on your phone?” Cole lets out a soft gasp. “Was it that guy from today? Did he do something mean to you?”
“What guy?” Dom’s voice is all curious, and I wince, squeezing my eyes shut and blubbering.
“There’s no guy, because all guys are assholes.”
“We’re not assholes,” Logan responds, squeezing me a little tighter.
“You’re family. You don’t count.” I sniff, the tears building on my lashes too much to contain.
Another whimper pops out of me, and I quickly find myself in a group hug.
Dom and Cole flank me, resting their hands on my back and cocooning me in this protective shell.
It’s so sweet and kind, and I really do love them for it, but we can’t stay like this.
Parents will be coming up to check on us soon, and I don’t want them to see me.
The second Mom finds out I’m upset, she’ll want to try and make me feel better, and I don’t think I can stomach it. I hate that she and Dad were right about Curry. I hate that their concerns were valid.
Shit! Why can’t I just win a round for once!
Being a teenager sucks!
“Someone’s coming.” Dom’s whisper pulls us all apart and we scramble, the boys diving for the bathroom so they can brush their teeth and me ducking into my room.
Portia and Harley are both asleep. Harley’s in the bed by the window, snoring away, while Portia’s up against the wall, her sheets a tangle around her legs.
The night-light that’s on between their beds is totally going to keep me awake, but I doubt I can sleep now anyway.
Still sniffing, I slash away my tears and change into my pajamas as quietly as I can.
Screw brushing my teeth. I’ll just go to bed with a furry mouth. I don’t want to leave this room and risk bumping into anyone.
A noise outside the door makes me jump, and I dive into bed as the handle starts to turn.
The space around me lights up, and I sense an adult walking in.
Shit, I think it’s Dad.
Snapping my eyes closed, I keep my back to him and do my best to act as though I’m sleeping.
“I know you’re awake, kid,” he softly whispers.
I tense, refusing to talk to him, even though all I want to do is slam into his chest, crying and wailing about how my stomach hurts and boys are stupid and I wish Valentine’s Day was never invented.
Gritting my teeth, I stay still, waiting out Dad’s soft sigh, because I have a point to prove.
Apparently.
He brushes the back of his finger down my cheek, and I fight the trembling in my lips when he bends down and kisses the top of my head.
“Love you, Zoey Bird,” he finally whispers before squeezing my shoulder and walking out of the room.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I fist my pillow and turn my face into it, releasing those tears in earnest and hoping like anything that I don’t wake up the girls.