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It was not a fast, quick kiss, like I was sure both of them thought it would be. The kiss lingered, turned into something a bit more than just lips pressing chastely against each other. Within a few agonizingly slow moments, their mouths melded against each other’s, and they were kissing each other back, pushing and pulling against the other’s mouth as if they couldn’t get enough. Like they needed the contact to breathe.
“Damn,” I murmured, my voice taking on a husky tone I barely recognized, “that’s sexy as hell. You guys are going to make me jealous.”
At that, they pulled away from each other, panting, their cheeks flushed and twinged with an adorable shade of pink.
“I…” Alec couldn’t find the words to say, and neither could Xander, with how he was fumbling. If that kiss reignited something between them, who was I to stop them? As long as they could focus on me every now and then…
“You don’t have to say anything,” I said, a grin forming. “But who’s going to kiss me now?” A laugh escaped me when both boys instantly reached for me, and for the next minute, I was caught in the middle of a tug-of-war, laughing my ass off, wondering just how this had come to be my life.
It wasn’t too damn bad, if I said so myself. Not bad at all.
It was one Friday night when Diane, my dad, and I were sitting around the kitchen table, eating lasagna, pretending to be a family. But we weren’t. We would never be a family. As soon as I graduated high school and went to college, these two people would not exist to me.
I was silent as I poked at my food, resting my cheek in my other hand, not trying to hide the boredness from my face. I knew both Diane and my dad were looking at me, and I never met either of their eyes. After the whole shoe thing, I’d stopped responding to Diane altogether. Her voice, her texts, everything. I didn’t want to play nice with her. If that made me a bitch, I guess I was a bitch.
Dinner was over soon enough, and as I dumped my plate in the sink, I heard Diane head up the stairs, saying nothing to me or my dad. Totally fine. I didn’t care.
“Elle,” my dad’s voice stopped me cold. I didn’t like the tone lingering there, and I had a feeling I was going to hate what he was about to say. “We need to talk.”
Still leaning over the sink, my hands gripped the counter’s edge. I didn’t turn to look at him. “About what?”
“About your behavior. You’ve been nothing but rude to Diane since you moved in, and I—”
I whirled on him. “And you, what? You’re upset I’m not playing nice with your shiny new wife?”
“She has tried to be nice to you. She wants you to like her, and you’re acting like a child.”
“Like a child? Like the child I was when I came home from school and found you screwing her in yours and mom’s bed? You didn’t seem to care how I acted back then.” My scars on my wrists itched in memory. “You didn’t care at all about me.”
My dad shook his head. “You can’t really think that—”
“So forgive me if I don’t want to play nice with Diane,” I hissed, practically spitting.
He looked at me for the longest while, his hazel eyes totally unreadable. It was a long minute before he whispered, “I hope you don’t act like this to your brother or sister.”
My breath caught. “What?” His next words made me want to vomit.
“Diane is pregnant. She wanted to be the one to tell you, but you’ve done nothing but brush her off and ridicule her at every turn. We’re going to have a family of our own, Elle, and we both want you to be a part of it.”
Those words barely registered. Diane was pregnant? With a baby? With my dad’s baby? With my…my brother, or my sister…
How the hell was I supposed to take in this information? Was I supposed to be happy? No—no, I could never pretend to be happy. This family wasn’t mine, neither was this house. It had ceased to be mine the instant Dad had started stepping out.
Like a robot, I spun and headed toward the front door, ignoring my dad and the yelling. He could shout after me all he wanted, but I wasn’t going to stop. I needed to get out of here, and I needed to go right now. No waiting. No sitting around while Alec or Xander came over to get me. I had to go.
I ran out the front door, not stopping, even as my dad followed me onto the porch. My phone was in my room, and I was barefoot. Oh, well. Whatever. If my feet hurt at the end of tonight…at least I was alive to feel it. More than I could say for my mom.
My mom…would she be happy for him, if she was still alive? She’d probably want me to pretend to be happy, to smile and say congratulations. But I couldn’t. My life was one big lie; I didn’t want to add to it. I couldn’t fake happiness and watch Dad’s new family grow. I didn’t want to be there for Diane. A sister, a brother? They’d mean nothing to me, because they never should’ve been born in the first place.
Bitter. I was still so bitter about what happened all those years ago. It was my dad’s fault that he cheated, sent Mom in a downward spiral. It was his fault that I lived in an apartment while Mom drowned herself in the bottle and forgot to do laundry and go to the grocery store. It was his fault that I wore dirty clothes to school. I was such a huge target in school all because of him. Him and Diane.
Everything was his fault. Everything was her fault.
My eyes started to tear up as I headed down the sidewalk. Maybe I just wanted someone to blame; I didn’t care. I was at the point where I just didn’t care.
I ended up walking to the school, go figure. Since it was Friday night, there was a basketball game in session, and even though I shouldn’t, I found myself gravitating towards the glass front doors. It was dark out, and when I stepped inside, I found the ticket people were gone, which meant it was past halftime. You got in free if you came super late. Even the concession stand was starting to pack up.
The women behind the concession stand watched as I walked in, their eyes falling to my bare feet, which hurt something fierce, but they said nothing. I blinked away my tears as I entered the gym, just in time to see the opposing team make a shot from halfway down the court. As the tennis shoes squeaked on the floor, I spotted Christian in the thick of the game, sweat coating his skin. He was playing with his mouthguard as he waited for his teammate to pass the ball.
