“You’re playing this with a single finger, and you have a better score than I’ve ever gotten.” She gives me a look. “And you downed four shots in a single gulp. Are you human?”
That was four shots? Oops.
“Chasm and some of his friends are hanging out by the lake. We figured we’d join them. Mostly so I can work on my sketchbook.” Danyella flips open the clasp on her bookbag and pulls out an art book, tossing it onto the counter as Lumen gives her an exasperated look.
“You’re probably wondering why we’re even friends,” she starts as I finally top out on Tetris and set my phone on the counter. “I can assure you, we were introduced at too young of an age to quit each other, social and political differences aside.”
“And there are many,” Danyella assures me, giving Lumen a once-over. “I’m sure you’ll spot many of them before the evening’s over.” She pushes up from the wall and tucks her sketchbook under one arm. “We all know you’re going to change and do your makeup, so hurry it up. I’ve got set designs to work on.”
Lumen gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes and pours herself another drink.
“What’s the point of coming over if I don’t dress up? There’s absolutely zero chance of my dad seeing what I’ll wear.” She grabs her bag and flounces off in the direction of a staircase as Danyella sighs and rubs at her forehead.
“I’d apologize for her in advance, but you’ll see what I mean. She can’t help it, I think, considering her parents.” Danyella gives me a look, purses her lips, and then points at my phone. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m almost afraid to ask.
Seattle is weird. Medina is weirder. Rich people are the weirdest.
“Call your mom before she panics; I’ve seen Tess’ freak-outs in the past, and I’d like to avoid ever going through that again.” Danyella sits down on a stool at the breakfast bar and slips off her shoes, exchanging them for a pair that she pulls out of her backpack. I’ve only seen pictures of the girl’s room so far, but it’s quite clear that she’s got a shoe fetish.
“You’ve seen Tess freak out?” I ask, thinking about the incident at the school. Was Danyella there? My brain was so scrambled that day that I can’t even remember.
But that’s not what Danyella’s referring to, apparently.
“At a birthday party when I was twelve,” Danyella admits, cringing a bit. “Parrish was supposed to call Tess to check in and he forget. She drove all the way over to the house to yell at him.”
Oh. Ouch. No wonder Parrish is so pissed at me. He blames me for Tess’ bullshit. It’s a fucked-up way to think, but I know it’s exactly how it feels.
“Then she got there and saw the sleepover was coed and Parrish was banned from them for … ever, I think. Yeah, I don’t think I saw him at a party or anything until he started sneaking out.”
I just stare back at Danyella, but I don’t know how to respond to that. How stifling. It makes me feel stifled. Am I only here because Tess is trying really, really hard with me? Or because she’d rather not have me around? I have no idea.
“How did he get so popular?” I ask, knowing even as I ask the question that it’s cringey as fuck. Popular? What does that even mean? Everyone at Whitehall is obsessed with Parrish and his friends, Chasm included. Apparently, Chasm is ‘nice’, but how does that explain Parrish’s academy fame?
Danyella just stares at me and then sighs dramatically.
“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” she asks, but I have no idea how to answer that, so I say nothing. “Parrish is the richest student at Whitehall, that’s why. Everyone is sucking up to him, obviously. That, and all their parents want to get under Paul’s knife.”
“That’s …” I just pause and shake my head. “Oh my god, rich people suck …”
Danyella nods, like that’s a fact she’s well aware of, but then shrugs.
“You’re one of us now, with a famous author for a mother. Did she tell you about the multi-million-dollar contract she just signed to sell the film rights of Abducted Under a Noonday Sun?”
Now I’m not just staring at Danyella, I’m gaping. Tess … sold the film rights … for the book that’s about me? And she didn’t think to mention it?
I drag the bottle of liquor close and turn it so I can see the label. It looks to be a very, very old bottle of Scotch. It’s probably stupid expensive too. I lift it to my lips and chug some, gasping and sticking out my tongue at the sour taste.
“Tess didn’t tell you, did she?” Danyella asks, holding out her phone for me to take. There it is right there, an article about my bio mom. I would’ve seen it, had I not put myself on a self-imposed social media/news break. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”
