Page 18 of One Wrong Step
Chapter Seven
Vivian
Sure, we’re being sent to our room like children, but does Jonah need to stomp up the stairs like an angry toddler? And he calls me spoiled and entitled. George’s attention has to be on him all the time.
His mom and dad split up. It’s a sad story, but it happened to both of us.
But Jonah didn’t have a father watching his every move. Still watching his every move.Failure isn’t an option, Vivian.
And yet, it’s all I seem to do. Over and over. A constant disappointment. Living with George and my mom has been easier in some ways. I have more freedom. Which seems odd, considering I’m an adult. But in other ways, it’s more difficult. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s an odd saying. But accurate. I imagine the shoe, in this case George’s cowboy boot, dropping on my head. Or the pointed toe kicking me out of the house. And then where would I be?
Leaning back on my bed, I call Frankie before I can change my mind.
“Hey, boo,” her cheerful voice says. “Only thirty days before I see your sweet face. It’s been too fucking long.”
Her voice soothes me. “If I can make it there in time.”
“Fuck off with talk like that. You have to make it, Viv.” She pauses. Maybe sensing my mood. “Your dad said no?”
“What do you think?” I press my hand over my eyes and swallow. “And to top it off, Jonah just ruined our sister’s birthday party.”
She sucks in a breath. “That bastard. Wait…” She pauses as if she’s considering all the possibilities. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”
I laugh. “How is ruining a four-year-old’s birthday party ever a good thing?”
The sound of rustling has me picturing her sitting up straighter, ready to launch into her explanation. “I mean, I’m sorry for Maisy, but if it takes Jonah down a peg or two… She’s four. She’ll recover. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
I could never successfully lie to Frankie. “I assisted in the destruction. Not intentionally. We were fighting —”
“Shocker.”
“And I pushed Jonah. He’s the one who fell onto herDragon Princesscastle.”
My best friend in the entire world starts laughing. Cackling. “That’s…hilarious…” she says, gasping for air.
“It really isn’t, Frankie.” Except, it is a little. The shock on Jonah’s face. Surrounded by the ruins of a purple castle. I chuckle. Frankie is laughing so hard that I can’t help but join in.
Bam. Bam Bam. “This isn’t funny, asshole,” Jonah yells through the door.
Frankie must hear him because she laughs even harder.
Several hours later, after Frankie and I brainstorm to no avail, I get a text from Mom to come downstairs. I brace myselffor the fallout and step out of my room, almost running into Jonah.
How does one person take up so much space? It’s unnerving.
“Ready for this?” I ask, feeling nervous for some reason.
A muscle in his jaw ticks. “This was all your fault.”
“Right. My fault.” Shots fired.
He steps closer. Seriously? He wants to do this now?
George bellows up the stairs, “Jonah, get down here now!”
I cross my arms and raise a brow. “Daddy’s calling.”
“You too, Vivian.”
