Chapter 53
Fifty-Three
I steered clear of my mom, and everyone, for the next few days.
She hadn't made an effort to apologize, and neither had I.
And I wouldn't. I refused. Not after she had hit me and left me with a swollen, fat lip not even the best concealer in the world could hide.
Even with all that my brother has done to shed a negative light on this family, not once did she ever put her hands on him.
Yet, for the first time in my life I stood my ground, and her world went up in flames. It made no sense.
And she wondered why I loved gymnastics so much. With gymnastics, I could be who I wanted to be, not what she wanted me to be.
The tension between my parents since that awful day had been tangible.
I wasn't stupid. I knew it was because of me.
At night when I couldn't sleep, I could hear them arguing downstairs. Doors slammed, curse words were thrown around, and I could hear the crystal of Dad’s decanter opening and closing.
Mom wanted me punished, but my dad objected, saying they'd never disciplined Xavier for the far worse offenses he’d committed.
Like when he was part of the lawsuit filed against his fraternity that took the life of a student.
A deadly hazing that he'd been part of yet miraculously got out of.
In public, they put on a good show, but the skeletons in their personal closets were mounting.
But today, I wouldn't be able to avoid her. Today was Easter Sunday, and we always had a very intimate, very extravagant family dinner for the four of us in a dining room that typically collected dust three hundred and sixty-four days out of the year. The same dining room where I discovered my brother’s and my best friend’s little secret.
My stomach was in knots, and the thought of being forced to sit across from the same woman who scrutinized everything I put on my plate and into my mouth made me nauseous.
I was stressing out big time having to be in the same room with her.
Especially since I knew she was still reeling with resentment.
As much as I was originally excited to be home, now I couldn't wait to go back to Cape Coral.
Since my parents hired help to handle the prep work and serve the food, I wasn't needed until right before. Thankfully.
Even though I knew she was keeping things from me, I decided to spend my free hours with Avery, who'd only gotten out of school yesterday for the holiday break.
We hadn't spoke about the day she hung up on me or why she’d had such an attitude.
I let it go because I missed her and wanted to spend as much time as I could with her before I had to leave.
We were in her massive walk-in closet, where she was trying on different outfits as I sat on her custom floral love seat. Rows and rows of clothes, drawers filled with accessories and fine jewelry, purses and designer shoes, all perfectly placed with a dramatic chandelier in the center.
"Ria," she said in a horribly fake Russian accent, distracting me from my thoughts. Every so often she used Kova’s nickname for me to get my attention. I laughed. "I have a rash on the back of my head. It is really bad and I do not know what to do about it."
My brows pinched together as I studied her, trying not to laugh at her terrible imitation and lack of contractions.
"Is this you being serious? Or are you being an asshole?"
Avery was staring at herself in the mirror, head slanted while she debated if she liked the tenth outfit she'd tried on. "I am being serious."
"Okay…so go to the doctor."
She turned around and walked toward me. Before I knew it, she was sitting next to me with her bleach blonde hair held up and a view of the back of her head just centimeters from my face. I pulled back.
"Will you look at it for me?" She leaned into me, and I put a hand on her back to stop her.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
We both laughed.
"First of all, you need to dye your roots. They're almost black and resemble the color of shit."
She groaned like she was tired of my existence. "Just shut the fuck up and focus on the issue at hand—my bumps, please."
"Only because you said please," I countered and leaned closer to get a better look. There was a trail of pale bumps with a rosy undertone that formed around her ear and down the back of her neck. "It's not bad, just a light allergic reaction if anything. Maybe some prickly heat?"
She whined her complaint. "It itches and won't go away! I've had it for weeks now. How's someone ever going to want to have sex with me again with this?"
"Right…because when you have sex he stares at the back of your ear. Is this a secret spot where you like to be licked or something? If so, then I could see the issue."
Avery started laughing and turned around to face me. "No, but it's on my neck and everything."
"I can't believe you even have sex considering what a Jesus freak you are."
Avery came from an extremely religious family. They attended mass every Wednesday and Sunday and all the holidays, whereas my family never did. We didn't even attend the important ones.
She laughed again. "Of course I have sex. Although, if the next guy I meet is a strong Christian and wants to wait until marriage, I would do that."
"But if he finds out you're not a virgin, are you going to lie and insist that you are?
Because lying is a sin, and you've already sinned in the Lord’s eyes by fornicating before marriage.
A double sin. And if he's a strong Christian and wants to wait to have sex, chances are he's a virgin.
But I guess if you lied about your virginity, he would never know, because I'm sure he wouldn’t know what a broken hymen feels like.
" I paused, then said, "Basically, you're doomed either way. "
Avery was silent as she mused over my words. Her crystal blue eyes twinkled. A slight smirk tipped her lips, and then a full-blown smile followed.
"Oh my God. You're so right! And with all my issues, I'm sure I'd bleed in the middle of it anyway!"
I busted out laughing. "With your luck, that would happen, but that's also what I call winning. The virgin husband would never know and probably think he got lucky with a wife who knows how to have sex the first time."
Avery's head rolled back onto the cushion. She clutched her chest. "Ugh. My life is a mess."
"I think you're overstressed about the possible STD you have spreading on your neck." Avery punched my arm. "Ow! I'm just kidding. Maybe you need to read a book to decompress. And turn up the air at night so you don't sweat. I honestly just think that's prickly heat."
Avery rambled on about books she didn't like and the ones she loved. She was impossible to please, and commented negatively on everything, so I never suggested books to her anymore.
"Hell no," I said when she suggested I read a book she loved.
"You have the worst taste in books. Cheesy, clichéd lines that are embarrassing to read.
It amazes me you've had a secret boyfriend for so long considering how picky you are.
I'm surprised you haven't found something so trivial to pick at to break it off with him.
" Avery gave me a droll stare. "What? You know I'm right. "
"Read one of my books, and I'll read one of yours at the same time."
"I don't even have time to breathe right now, and you want me to read one of your books?" I laughed sarcastically.
"Just give it a try! At least read the sample. I know you'll love it. You just can't give me the satisfaction."
I chuckled. "No, thanks."
"But I always read what you want!"
I gasped jokingly. "No, you don't. You read three pages and tell me you can't read my book because you don't like the hero’s name."
"Well, if his name is Garth, I'm not reading it. There is nothing sexy about a Garth, Adrianna! Nothing. And I know you agree with me."
I started laughing uncontrollably at her tone and reasoning. She had a point, but I also never read about a Garth before.
"If his hair is red, that's a deal breaker for you," I added. "If he's a doctor, a lawyer, a firefighter, hell, if he's the fucking CEO of a billion-dollar company, you would tell me no."
"Excuse me for knowing what I like. A fiery, flaming bright orange head of hair and eyebrows is not hot to me. His pube hairs will be the same color, and I cannot deal with that. Just fucking stop right now, bestie."
A loud laugh burst from my throat as tears blurred my eyes from laughing.
Avery joined in, chuckling over her own comments like she usually did.
I missed my friend so much and wished in moments like this that we lived closer together again.
Between her wicked sense of humor and array of timbre in her voice, this was more than what any book could give me.
"You'd rather read about smelly hobos. I bet that's what you love."
She nodded, agreeing with me.
"I knew it."
"You're missing out. My book is forbiddenish."
I gave thought to it for a moment. That piqued my interest, but I knew her better.
" Ish . You lie. That probably means a boss can't date his employee. Lame. And, Ave, have you forgotten I'm living the forbidden life? The book can't possibly be better than real life."
"Have you spoken to Konstantin since coming home," Mom inquired after her third glass of vodka. She was putting them back faster than Dad.
This was the first thing she'd said to me in days and it left me momentarily speechless.
A feeling of doom settled on me the moment I walked into the dining room.
It was the same feeling that struck me when I pulled through the iron gates only a handful of days ago.
I stared into my mom's eyes trying to muster an answer. She was goading me.
The two of us were seated at the grand table, across from each other, little appetizers placed sporadically around us. Dad and Xavier were in the other room refilling their glasses. I hadn't touched one morsel of food. I was too on edge.