Chapter 3
THREE
Carter
Family dinners aren’t bad enough. Now we have to have family breakfast, too. Pretty soon we’ll be wearing matching clothes.
“Big day for you.” I’ve never seen anyone try to force a smile on somebody else until now, watching Dad aim his smile at Elliana like a weapon. I believe his heart’s in the right place. It’s his brain I’m worried about. “First day of classes at a new school.”
“One thing I’ve never had to worry about is Elliana’s grades.” Wow. It almost sounds like Irene is trying to compliment her daughter. That can’t be right. Since everything has to be about her.
“I’m sure with Carter to show you around, you won’t have any problem meeting new people and making friends.” Dad is too busy winking at Irene like he’s trying to reassure her to see my mouth falling open. What is it with him making promises for me, deciding what I’m going to do, what will or will not be a problem? The fuck? It’s like he’s had a personality transplant.
“I’m not sure I should.” Putting butter on a piece of toast gives me something to do with my hands other than letting them shake with rage. When I end up tearing the bread because I’m pressing too hard, I have to set the whole thing down on my plate.
“Why not?” There’s an edge to his question. It makes me lift my gaze to meet his from across the round table in the kitchen’s breakfast nook. The sunshine streaming in through the window to his left makes his eyes sparkle, but there’s nothing cheerful in them. “Are you so busy you can’t introduce your stepsister to your friends?”
At least he’s only calling her my stepsister this time. Maybe he finally figured out he was taking things too far. “It’s not that I’m busy. But…”
I have to ask. And since the girl we’re talking about is staring at her plate like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen instead of speaking up for herself or even participating, I’m the only one who’s going to point this out. “Is that what she wants? For me to introduce her around? Maybe we should find that out first.”
He doesn’t blink before asking, “Why wouldn’t she want that?”
Jesus Christ. He’s either trying his damnedest to be oblivious, or he really has lost his mind. I’m not even sure anymore.
“Forget it. Whatever.” I shouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t get it. He refuses to.
Obviously, Irene isn’t cool with the fact that Dad has stopped paying attention to her for an entire thirty seconds. She leans across the table, tits ready to fall out of her low-cut shirt, to tap her obnoxious fingernails against his arm. I don’t know how she manages to do anything with nails that long. “Did you tell Carter yet?”
I swear to God, if she’s pregnant, I will flip this fucking table.
Dad’s face brightens right away. “We’re going on a little trip this coming weekend, the two of us,” he explains. “I expect you to be on your best behavior while we’re gone.”
An entire weekend where I won’t have to breathe the same air as the gold-digging whore? The day is finally starting to look up, even if it makes me sick to think of how soon she’ll be spending more of Dad’s money when she did nothing to earn it. It’s one thing for him to support me—I’m his son, and I’m not walking around asking for elaborate weddings and expensive trips.
“Have a good time,” I murmur, forcing a tiny grin before finishing my food. I need to get out of here before I say something I can’t take back. If there’s one thing I won’t accept, it’s letting a couple of gold diggers ruin my family. And no matter what Dad says, we were a family before he met Irene.
I’m on my way to the sink with my plate when Dad speaks behind me. “I guess you’ll need a ride to school.” He’s not talking to me. I have a car.
A look over my shoulder tells me the freak only nods with her shoulders up around her ears. It’s like she’s always in the middle of flinching. What the fuck is she flinching away from? Disgust is flowing through my veins like the water flowing over my plate before I leave it in the dishwasher—one of the few chores I have to do around here.
“Carter will drive you.” I close my eyes and grit my teeth, facing away from them while Dad once again offers my services without asking first.
“That would be so sweet.” Irene simpers. Lucky me, turning around just in time to watch her stretch her body across the table to give him a big, sloppy kiss.
I might throw up here and now.
After clearing my throat to remind them they aren’t alone in the room, I grunt, “I’m ready to go.” My backpack is waiting by the front door, so after a quick nod to everyone, I head that way. If the girl wants to get to school, she’ll follow.
“Carter.” Dad catches me in the hall outside the kitchen, and I stop, rolling my eyes at the ceiling before turning his way. He holds a finger to his lips before jerking his head toward the dining room, then looks behind him to make sure Irene isn’t lurking before joining me by the table.
“Before you start on me, I’m doing my best,” I whisper, jamming my hands into the pockets of my shorts since he won’t like it much if he sees the way they keep curling into fists.
“That’s your best? Acting like a spoiled brat back there? I tried to let it go last night, but I can’t let you continue this way.” He looks like a bull ready to charge when he lowers his brow and grunts, “We are going to be a solid family unit.”
It can’t be forced . Right. Like he would listen if I told him. “You’re pushing too hard on her,” I whisper. Is she near the room? I hope she is. I want her to hear this. “She’s scared of everything. She won’t talk. She won’t even look at us. And the more you try to push her out of her shell or whatever it is, the harder she’ll fight to stay in it.”
“The only way to get her out of her shell is to make sure she knows she’s safe here.” He looks toward the hall too, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Irene said something about her having trouble years back, but that’s really all she said. After that, she can’t face people.”
“Who hasn’t had trouble? Like I said, you can’t force her. I’m not going to. It’s a waste of time.”
His jaw tightens in a way that tells me he’s fighting as hard as I am to keep a cool head. “You will be kind to her. You will make her feel welcome, and that is all there is to it. Do we understand each other?”
I understand him. It’s a shame he can’t be bothered to understand me. “Gotcha.” I can’t hide my irritation—not that I try very hard, either—rolling my eyes as I leave the room.
He’s quick for a guy his age, taking hold of my arm. His hand is like an iron claw. “Lose the attitude,” he warns. “I need you to go along with me on this. It matters to me. Is that not enough?”
“I told you, I’ve got it.” He will beat a dead horse until it’s nothing but pink mist. Like somewhere along the way, he got the idea that the more he talks, the more people will take him seriously. It doesn’t matter that he drove a point home already. He needs to keep going until he gets whatever reaction he’s waiting for.
One thing is for sure by the time he decides it’s safe to release me: I am in no fucking mood to chat up my new stepsister. At least Wren and Maya are nice and friendly. They’ll probably take her under their wing. Better them than me.
The mousy little freak is waiting at the front door with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She grips the strap in one fist, clenched so tight her hand shakes as I approach. Should I say something kind, something to reassure her? Would she listen if I did? It’s not worth the breath.
Still, it’s around fifteen minutes to school, and fifteen minutes is a long time to spend in silence. We are only at the end of the block with her practically hugging the passenger side door of my truck before I offer, “My friends Briggs and Tucker have girlfriends I can introduce you to.” I glance at her. “They’re nice girls.”
I’m looking through the windshield but can see her from the corner of my eye, so I’m treated to the sight of her shoulders lifting further than ever. What the fuck? “Most of the time we end up getting together for lunch if our schedules are free, but today they were planning on having breakfast together. You could meet them,” I suggest.
Maybe I would get a reaction if I threatened to drive headfirst into the concrete divider put in place for the road crew repaving part of the street we’re rolling down. Maybe I would have to go through with crashing.
By the time I’m waiting for passing traffic to clear so I can turn into the parking lot, I have to tell myself at least I tried. She is fucking determined to shut me out. I’m tired of talking to myself.
The parking lot is already halfway full by the time I pull into a spot close to a grassy stretch where handfuls of students are hanging out—sitting around, tossing a football, taking selfies in the sunshine.
She couldn’t be more unlike them. Before putting the car in park, I watch her watching them, staring out through those ugly glasses that take up so much of her face. Like she’s from another planet, studying alien life forms.
“Do you wanna come with me? Come and meet my friends?” I don’t know why, but I feel like I have to give her one more chance. Maybe it’s my way of reminding myself there’s only so much I can do.
Does she say a word? Does she acknowledge me? Why would she? I’m just the asshole who drove her to school. Without a word, she unbuckles her belt, opens the door, and leaves with her backpack slung over her shoulder. The shapeless sweater and baggy jeans she’s wearing attract a little attention from some of the people she passes, who probably all wonder why somebody’s grandma is going to school here. Doesn’t it matter that she looks like a joke? How can she not care?
Not my problem. No matter what Dad says, she’s in charge of herself, not me. If she wants to be strange and ignore any attempt at kindness, she can fuck right off.
If anything, I’m glad she hurried off like the rude little freak she is. I don’t have to walk around with her now as I head across campus toward the cafeteria, where Briggs and the rest of them planned on having breakfast together today. Family breakfast meant I had to bow out. Another reason to be irritated. But I’ve wasted enough time on that today. I’ve wasted enough brain power on the ungrateful girl I’m now related to legally, if in no other way. But that’s more than enough.
I only have around twenty minutes until class starts, but I go to the cafeteria anyway, hoping to clear my head by bullshitting with friends—like a palate cleanser, only for my brain. I don’t have to look hard for them. Kellen’s presence makes the group stand out since, even while he’s sitting down, he’s a solid head taller than anybody else around him. He’s a good guy to have around in a crowd. Like a beacon.
“Hey!” Wren lifts a hand to wave. She’s always the first one to be welcoming, which makes me feel kind of shitty, considering how I used to treat her. That was all because it was what Briggs wanted before things changed between them.
Preston and Easton are sitting with their backs to me and turn in unison to look for whoever Wren noticed. “Oh, it’s just him,” Easton mutters, elbowing his twin before I walk past and slap him upside the back of the head.
“Your manners are shit,” I grunt, making everyone else laugh.
“Starting off with violence this early in the day?” Easton winces and rubs the back of his head, even though I barely grazed him. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?”
Elliana might not literally have pissed, but she might as well have. I ignore his question, sitting next to Kellen and returning the fist bump he offers. He never says much.
Maya is practically glued to Tucker, sitting with her head on his shoulder. He’s trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter, but I can tell he’s loving it. He’s practically glowing with pride. And to think, he used to hate her as much as Briggs hated Wren. I don’t get it.
Once it’s clear I’m alone, she picks her head up and cranes her neck to look around. “Where is she?”
“Where is who?” Because sometimes it’s easier to play dumb.
“The Queen of England,” Wren mutters, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, didn’t she die?” It’s obvious the girls aren’t impressed with my lame attempt at humor. They both give me a withering look.
“For real, though.” Briggs can’t help but chuckle behind Wren’s head. At least he’s not the kind of boyfriend who orders his friends to apologize for the littlest things. “I thought she and her mom were moving in yesterday.”
“They did.” Is there anywhere on campus I can go without having to be reminded of her?
“Did she come to school with you? I was really hoping to meet her,” Maya says.
“Yeah, well…” Am I going to sound like a complete prick if I come out with the truth? Do I care? These people know me well enough that I don’t have to pretend to be a nicer person than I am. “Don’t waste your time.”
The way the girls gasp at the same time, you’d think they’re the twins at the table. “How come?” If I didn’t know better, I’d think Wren was about to cry. She’s that upset. Is she for real?
“She is…” A complete and total pain in the ass. A fucking freak. “Really shy. Like, I think it causes her actual pain to have to talk to people.”
Right away, the girls brighten up. “Oh, we can get her out of her shell in no time,” Maya insists with a wink.
“I’m just saying, don’t get your hopes up. Really, I’m not trying to be a dick,” I insist when the look the girls exchange tells me that’s exactly what they think I’m doing. “Did you ever hear about something being so tough it feels like you’re pulling teeth? Welcome to my world. I tried to talk to her last night at dinner, this morning at breakfast, in the car on the way here. Not a word.”
Since that is about as nice as I can be, I leave it there. Otherwise, I might have to tell them about her ugly clothes and the glasses that make her eyes bug out.
Tucker rubs his jaw, frowning. “From the way you describe your stepmom, she’s basically the opposite.”
My stepmom. “Don’t use disgusting language like that in front of me,” I warn. Everybody laughs, but I’m not joking. “She’s nothing but a gold digger.”
“I’m sure her daughter isn’t,” Wren reminds me. “From the way you make it sound, she just needs friends. I remember how that felt.”
“Same here,” Maya agrees.
“Hey, if you can get through to her, be my guest. You’ll know her by the cable knit sweater she’s wearing on an eighty-degree day and… what do they call them? Coke-bottle glasses?” Making circles with my forefingers and thumbs, I hold them over my eyes. “They’re like magnifying lenses.”
“Stop,” Preston murmurs with a smirk. “You’re getting me too horny.”
“A gentle breeze would get you horny.” He doesn’t bother arguing my point. “But like I said, if you can help out, I’d appreciate it. Dad is dead set on us being some TV sitcom family.”
“The poor girl just needs a little time to get out of her shell.” Wren looks up at the clock hanging over the double doors and grimaces. “Shit, I’m running late. I’ve gotta go.”
“Don’t forget,” Maya says with a snicker as she stands. “You’re a guy. There are things about girls a guy will never understand.”
I don’t even bother telling her she’s wrong. I’ve already used up all my patience when it comes to Elliana this morning. “If you can crack the code, be my guest. One less thing for me to think about.” Then I haul ass outside and head straight for the sciences building, where my Psych class is held. At least while I’m here, I don’t have to walk on eggshells around Princess Freak.
The only reason I didn’t go into deeper detail about her and how rude and ignorant she is was knowing I’d only get my balls busted by the guys. Considering they’re still a little tender from all the shit Dad gave me earlier, I’m not in the mood.
The lecture hall is dark and cool and already filling up by the time I arrive with a few minutes to spare. I snag a seat toward the back of the room and glance around to see how many people I recognize. After jerking my chin to acknowledge a few of them, I pull out my MacBook and set it up on the counter running the length of the row.
A high-pitched giggle catches my attention—I look that way out of reflex, more than actually caring who made the sound or why. That’s how it is. You hear an unexpected noise, and you look around to see what’s happening.
What do I see? I see who the girl giggled at.
A certain bug-eyed, limp-haired, sweater-wearing freak who takes an empty seat at the opposite end of my row without looking up from her shoes.
Fuck me. Is there anywhere on campus I’ll be able to go and avoid her?
Now more than a few people have noticed not only her bizarre fashion sense but the way she holds herself, with her hair hanging around her face. If she’s going to always stare at her feet, she needs to get a pair of glasses that actually fit, since they keep sliding down until she pushes them back up the bridge of her nose.
What did I ever do to deserve this? And what happens once word gets around that she’s part of my family? I don’t want to be associated with her.
Right now, it looks like I don’t have much say in anything.
Like I needed another reason to hate her guts.