This … is nothing at all like that.
There’s quiet chaos in the Vanguard kitchen area.
By that I mean, all of the children are present and accounted for, but even though the air is tense and there’s a flurry of activity, it’s dead-silent. Well, nearly dead-silent. Currently, Parrish is in progress with a hissed argument against his father about the loss of his car privileges.
“It doesn’t make any sense for you to drive me an hour out of the way,” Parrish is saying, his eyes flicking my way as soon as I come into the room. I stare at the spread of food on the kitchen island, but I don’t dare touch any of it. How the hell am I supposed to know if this, too, belongs to one of Paul’s business partners or Tess’ agents or something?
My bio mom saunters past me, heading straight for the twins at the eat-in kitchen table and making a huffing sound when she sees they’ve both eschewed breakfast in favor of Roblox on their iPads. I think about the envelope she gave me, and the fact that Delphine is probably in the process of dumping it into a garbage bag to take outside. Tess hasn’t asked about it, and I haven’t offered anything up on my end.
Today isn’t the day to worry about that.
“You’re being punished, Parrish,” Paul says, like that’s the final word on that. He’s clearly over the conversation already. “You and your”—Paul nods his head in my direction—“new sister.” My new stepfather does his best to smile at me, but I’m clearly not his favorite person in the world and it falls flat. Or else maybe he’s just always like this? It’s hard to say.
Parrish scowls at me, and I flip him off. That kiss at the party seems leagues away from this morning, a distant dream—or nightmare, maybe. Really though? Really? You want to lie to yourself like that Dakota?
Tess notices our exchange, but she’s too busy dealing with the twins to chastise me.
“Here,” Parrish snaps, shoving a plate of toast in my direction. “This time, you’re allowed to eat the food.”
He storms out of the kitchen, his shoulder brushing against mine with an electric charge as he heads down the hall toward the front door and then slams it behind him.
“We better go,” Paul says, checking his smart watch and then sighing dramatically. “I have surgery in two hours.”
He takes off after his son while I grab a dry piece of toast and resign myself to god only knows how many mornings like this one.
The ride to Whitehall is tense, the interior of the car filled with Paul’s constant phone calls. It’s never-ending with him. I hear him complain about his kids being on their phones all the time, but I have yet to see him without it. At the very least, Kimber follows in her father’s footsteps and can barely tear her eyes away from her phone screen—even when she gets out of the car and takes off like a bat outta hell.
Paul ends up dropping the three of us on a white gravel loop in front of the school. There’s basically nobody else there, and Parrish glowers like he’s been kicked and spit on. I get the feeling that it isn’t particularly good for either of our reputations to get dropped off out front like we’re still in elementary school.
“Why did you tell Tess about my period?” I ask as I struggle to keep up with Parrish’s long-legged strides. He takes off for the front doors of the academy like he owns it. Socially, at least, he very well might. There’s no way he’s the wealthiest person on campus, so all I can surmise is that his looks and his attitude play a big part in his social standing.
“Why don’t you decide how you’re going to handle dating both me and Lumen while the whole school watches?” he purrs back at me, leaning in far too close before turning away again and shoving through the front doors. I’m cursing him out as I struggle to keep up, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit.
“For real, why tell her about my period?” I repeat as Parrish turns suddenly and steps forward. Instinctively, I move to take a step back and slam into a row of lockers. The smile that takes over his lips is very clearly a weapon, one meant to draw blood. Looking at him, I can feel it, a wound opening up inside my chest.
“Maybe I was worried about you?” he breathes, leaning down close enough that we could kiss again. You know, if we were so inclined. “You seem so goddamn helpless; it was my job to step in.”
“Oh Parrish, pretty please, mansplain periods to me, so I can better understand them?” I quip back, batting my lashes. Swear to god, I have never reacted this way to another person in all my life. I’ve never been around someone who makes my blood boil and my hackles raise, my skin pebble in goose bumps, my heart race and my palms sweat.
