5. Bad Blood
BAD BLOOD
PRESENT
Apparently, Maggie and I are prone to paranoia because a loud, dull droning revs up from across the street, waking me from my liquor-induced coma the next morning…
in the backseat of Maggie’s Range Rover.
After several shots of tequila, my loose lips recalled one of the local urban legends about an unsavory app driver who attacked passengers in town.
There was never any actual proof of such a thing happening.
Still, as Mags and I stumbled our way down the McKenzie’s driveway, the thought of getting into a stranger’s car while completely shitfaced suddenly didn’t sound so appealing.
Hence, I’m now peeling myself up from a nylon-covered back seat.
For the second morning in a row, it feels like my retinas are being burned clear out of my eye sockets as I find myself staring right into the sun.
I roll over, my whole body sore with the effort, but thankfully, I’d taken Maggie’s advice and actually drank some water throughout the night, so my hangover is substantially better than it was yesterday.
Reaching down onto the floor to get my clutch, I blindly pull out my cell phone and steal a look at the time.
9:07 a.m.
“Shit!” I look up to see Maggie still fast asleep in the driver’s seat, her head resting comfortably on the bundled sweater she has pressed against the window.
“Mags.” I sit up and give her a nudge. “Maggie!”
“No, it’s mine,” she groans, swatting my hand away.
“What?”
That’s the thing about Maggie. Once she’s awake, she’s a regular dynamo. Waking her up, however, is the challenge. And the girl has what you could politely call an ‘overactive imagination.’
“You’ve gotta get up,” I say.
She merely whimpers, her eyes still shut. “Panda stole my sandwich.”
I laugh.
Thankfully, the girl can’t live without her cell, and like a beacon to her consciousness, Maggie immediately reaches for her phone in the cup holder the instant it rings. “Hello,” she sighs, still not having to open her eyes to answer.
“Get up, Sleeping Beauty.”
She chuckles, looking over her shoulder as my voice echoes between the back seat and her cell. “Was I talking?”
“Yep.”
“Did I say anything embarrassing?”
“I’m pretty sure a bear stole your turkey club.”
We both laugh, but the sound dissipates into a groan on my end.
“Hangover?” Mags asks.
“No, just thinking about the many ways my folks will contemplate killing me, seeing as how I broke curfew by over nine hours,” I say, handing her a pair of sunglasses.
Maggie waves them off, trying and failing to finger-comb the knots out of her hair. “I’m good. I don’t have any light sensitivity after drinking.”
I reach forward and pull down the visor, showing her the mirror. “It’s for that .”
“Sweet corn puffs!” Maggie immediately snatches the sunglasses from me and throws them on, hiding the mascara, eyeliner, and dark shadow smudged all around her eyes. “I look like I take makeup tips from the Joker!”
”We’ll get you sorted,” I promise. But first things first. Time for me to get reamed out.
I anticipate the worst as Maggie pulls into my driveway, and I breathe a sigh of relief to see neither of my parents’ cars is here.
Unfortunately, my Camry is , which means Vanessa will most likely be home and aware of my no-show last night.
Even if the ‘rents don’t know, she’ll make sure they find out.
Mags and I pat outside with our heels in hand, heading up to the house. She stretches her arms over her head and sighs while I hobble painfully as my left leg wakes up from my awkward sleeping position. I hear some talking out back, so I slink to the front porch.
Neither of us runs into anyone, so we take the opportunity and dart upstairs to my room.
Maggie is bustier than me and has some solid curves to her figure, so the flowing baby doll top and pair of basic black shorts I offer is really all that fits her.
Still, she doesn’t complain as she heads to the bathroom to shower, change, and fix her makeup.
“We’ll make an appearance outside, say a quick ‘hello,’ and then make a beeline for your car,” I say, heading down the steps again after we finish getting ready.
I slipped on a Rolling Stones concert tee and a pair of tattered jeans, along with dark makeup around the eyes, ensuring my stepmom will want me gone when company comes over.
Maggie’s stomach growls like a monster, and she puts a hand over her abdomen as if it’s speaking to her. “I’m gonna need to refuel first.”
I go into the kitchen and start perusing the cabinets for something quick to eat, happy to hear that neither of the voices outside belongs to my sister.
Maggie outright purrs, looking outside with a mischievous smile slapped across her face. “I thought you were supposed to save the strippers for the bachelorette party.”
“What?” I hand her a protein bar, only for my best friend to grab my arm and drag me over to the window.
“Talk about a hunk of burnin’ love,” she sighs, pointing to a certain someone walking into the backyard.
The guy in question turns towards us, donning a pair of aviator sunglasses and a sleeve of tattoos, and I immediately drop to the floor with a shriek.
“Ooookay…” Maggie laughs, looking down at me. “This definitely explains why you don’t have a boyfriend. It’s a guy , Ali. Not a grenade. You don’t have to hit the deck.”
I ignore her, groaning as I steal another look outside. “He’s like a freaking cockroach! I can’t get rid of him!”
“Dare I ask what you’re doing down there?”
“Your stripper out there,” I say, pointing into the backyard, “is Jase !”
Maggie almost chokes on her protein bar. “Bullshit!”
“I’m not down here to inspect the hardwood floor,” I sneer, slowly easing my eyes over the bottom of the windowsill.
“Holy fucking shit.” Maggie finally gets a better look at his face, realizing that, yes, he is the same guy she pulled up on social media last night.
Unfortunately, her shock is overrun by her gawking because she goes so far as to fan herself.
“And you actually managed to walk out on that fine ass last night?”
“More like I ran .”
Lauren’s Mercedes pulls into the driveway not ten seconds later, and she wastes no time climbing out as she catches sight of the guys out back.
“Well, look who made it,” she squeals, getting swept clean off her feet as Jase pulls her into a hug upon arrival. “Where did you run off to last night?”
Holy shit on a cracker!
She knows him?
I scuttle across the kitchen floor, seeing the group heading towards the house. “Maggie,” I hiss, snatching her keys and our purses off the counter blindly. “We have to go, now!”
Her legs apparently work independently from her brain, because the girl doesn’t move, still gaping.
I snap at her again, but it’s too late. She’s only made it a few steps when the back door opens, and everyone files inside the house.
I, being the smooth operator that I am, stay crouched down on the floor like an idiot behind the kitchen island, hoping I can ‘gracefully’ army crawl my way to the front door without catching anyone’s attention.
“Hey, Mags,” says Derek. “You know where Ali is?”
“Oh, she’s…ah…around here somewhere,” she replies clumsily.
Footsteps tap across the hardwood floor, coming closer…and closer…and closer to me.
Shit!
I’m trapped.
“Ali?” My brother peers over the top of the counter, laughing at the sight of me crouched down on the ground. “What are you doing?”
“I just…uh, lost my earring,” I say, brushing myself off and climbing to my feet in mortification.
“Ali!” Laurenpractically squeals. “Oh good, you’re here! I want you to meet my brother.”
Come again?
Did she just say, ‘brother’?
And now I want to kick myself.
Because I knew Jase had an older half-sister, but I never met her, let alone learned her last name. She moved in with her dad when she was little after her mom got remarried…to Jase’s dad!
Son of a bitch.
Lauren glances over her shoulder to see no one else there.
“Jase!” she calls out, looking through the back door and waving her hand to beckon him inside.
I steal a panicked glance at Maggie before a shadow casts the doorway. Jase comes sauntering into the back of the kitchen, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his faded black jeans.
Lauren motions to me. “I’d like to introduce you to Derek’s little sister.”
Jase’s head shifts in my direction, and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly removing his sunglasses. My breath stifles as he stands frozen, gawking at me in what I guess is utter horror.
“This is my brother, Jason,” announces Lauren. “Jase, this is—”
“Birdie,” he blurts.
“ Birdie ?” Maggie echoes, clearly confused.
It’s only one word, but he could have just punched me in the stomach and it would have hurt less.
”Jase,” I mutter, trying my best to sound flippant. It doesn’t work. I sound…angry.
“Wait, you two know each other?” asks Lauren.
“Not really,” I say, my voice now surprisingly flat. “We didn’t run in the same social circles growing up.”
Still, Jase doesn’t speak. I’m not even sure he’s breathing.
Lauren seems oblivious because she gives herself a light thump upside her head. “Oh my God! I totally spaced. You guys are the same age, aren’t you? You used to go to school with one another.”
I give my best attempt at a smile in response while Jase continues gaping at me like I’m freaking Bigfoot!
“It was nice seeing you again,” I say as politely as I can…to Lauren, “but I was just on my way out.”
I cock my head toward the front door, and Maggie excuses herself, the two of us darting outside faster than Roadrunner.