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I nod. “You’re probably right.”
“One million to one.”
“Yeah, I got it, Jenna!”
She smirks behind her coffee mug.
I shove my doughnut into my mouth while the pendant glitters at me some more. It’s stunning — absolutely stunning — and exactly the gift I’d expect from a guy like Drew. I’d wear it every day just to remind myself who it came from, and to show others I belong to him.
But that yacht has sunk.
“I need to get dressed,” I say, quickly pushing myself out of my chair.
“You going to take this thing?” Jenna asks.
“No.”
“Then, can I have it?”
I spin around and snatch the box right out of Jenna’s hand.
“Rude!” she shouts after me.
CHAPTER 50
HEIDI
You know, one of these days, I’ll stop being so surprised when life screws me over, but that day is not today.
Today, I sit at a table for four at Moira’s Cafe in Chicago with my mother to my left, my father to my right, and my big brother across from me. For most families, this is normal behavior. For mine, it’s a ticking clock. Who knows when that bomb will go off? Nobody. But it will eventually, and we’ll all suffer for it.
At this point, I say bring it on. Get it over with.
I avoid eye contact with Seth, but the bruise beneath his eye is difficult to ignore. Is that related to Drew’s apparent disheveled appearance last night? Did they really get into a fight at the Delta Xi party? Is Seth okay? Is Drew okay? He claimed it was from playing football when Mom asked about it earlier, but Seth’s not the ball-playing type unless the game involves chugging beer.
Don’t know, don’t care, I tell myself again as I nibble on my salmon fillet.
“So...” Mom clears her throat, cutting the awkward silence like a knife. “What did you do for your birthday last night?” she asks me. “Did you and Jenna go out?”
“Uh...” I nudge a piece of broccoli with my fork. “Not really. We stayed in with some friends. I didn’t feel much like going out.”
“Some friends?”
“Just me and Jenna and...” I scramble to pad the lie. Of course, she latched onto the one part of the story I made up. “Some people from our sketch class.”
“Any cute boys?” she teases.
Seth’s eye twitches.
“No,” I answer. “It was just a girly night.”
“Well, that’s fun, too!” Mom smiles across the table at Dad. “Right, Harold?”
Dad blinks his sunken eyes to prove he’s still alive. “Oh. Yes, Judy. Girly nights sound quite fun.”
She fires him a purposeful glare, urging him to at least make an effort, but if he didn’t bother while they were married then he sure as shit won’t bother now.
Mom turns to me again. “Did you get anything nice for your birthday?” she asks.
