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The Girl of Sand & Fog
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Текст книги "The Girl of Sand & Fog"


Автор книги: Susan Ward



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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

It’s just so freaking weird. Tears fill my eyes out of nowhere. Why am I crying? Maybe it’s just because my mom looks so happy. Alan does, too. Maybe it’s just inescapable to get emotional at a wedding, even a wedding as bizarre and confusing as this. Linda has been Niagara Falls since it started and she’s the least emotional woman I know.

Bobby stands up and holds out his hand to me. “Come on, Kaley. Everyone is moving to the tent.”

I snap out of my thoughts.

Oh crap, we’re the only ones left sitting on the chairs facing the cliffs, and I didn’t go give my mom a hug or something at the end of the ceremony and I probably should have.

The inside of the tent is a crush of bodies by the time we get there.

“There’s a buffet,” Bobby says quietly. “Do you want something to eat?”

I exhale. “I’m not hungry.”

He does a cute little pucker of his brows. “Do you mind if I eat? I didn’t get a chance to grab anything this morning and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need my energy later.”

“You are, are you?” I tease, trying to match his lighthearted mood but I know I’m failing at that.

He smiles, his expression sweet. “You may not be here with me, but I’m here with you. Hopefully you arrive soon. You look so beautiful today. It’s going to be torture keeping my hands off you during the reception.”

My cheeks flush.

Message received, Bobby.

I’m behaving pathetically. My parents got married. No big deal. My self-absorption and emotional botheration needs to end. He wants me to focus on him.

I peek up at Bobby. “Instead of waiting for me to arrive, maybe you should whisk me away from this shindig.”

Bobby laughs. “Shindig?”

“I thought I should use a word appropriate for how you’re dressed.”

His eyes twinkle. “You don’t like it?”

My brows hitch up. “Oh, I definitely like. We need to clean you up more often. Very sexy. Very hot in that suit.”

“Sexy enough that you might want to slip away now and find somewhere to be alone?”

I can feel my eyes grow sparkly and I lean into him. “I’d love it, but I think we should wait until the party really gets going so no one notices us cutting out. I don’t want Mom getting all butt-hurt today.”

He takes my hand. “Then come on. I’m going to eat. You’re going to eat. We’re going to sit through the toasts. Dance. And the second the happy couple takes off, we’re going somewhere so I can get out of this suit.”

I hold my lower lip between my teeth, gnawing on it a few times. “Out of the suit, huh? I kind of like you in it.”

“You’ll like it better when it’s off,” he whispers, his lips close to my ear. “It’s been a week, Kaley.”

I pout. “Not my fault. And I hated being on lockdown.”

He kisses my nose. “Then don’t get grounded again.”

“We’re at Grandpa Jack’s. I’m on temporary parole.” I grin salaciously. “And I know just the place to go when we slip out of here.”

“Oh, thank you.” His body shudders against me.

Laughing, I take his hand and cut through the people toward the buffet.

Eight hours later, the reception is raging. Mom and Alan are still at the party which makes it pretty much no bueno to disappear.

I sway on the dance floor, clutched against Bobby, our bodies barely moving, and we’re both beyond ready to be out of here.

Jeez, why aren’t the newlyweds out of here?

“If we don’t find someplace private soon,” Bobby whispers, “I’m going to explode.”

I giggle. “Me, too.”

I rapidly scan the room. “Follow me. No one important is by the exit. We’re busting out of here.”

He grins, very happy, and I flush and grab his hand. Once we’re outside, we both start to laugh.

“Grandpa Jack has a pool house.”

“I knew there was something I liked about Jack.”

In a few seconds we’re alone, kneeling on the bed, rapidly undressing each other. His hands run down my hips, then my legs, closing around my ankles and giving me a tug until I’m flat on my back.

He puts on a condom, covers me with his body and presses his mouth over mind as he sinks himself deep inside me. I convulse as he pumps into me, gloriously wet between my thighs even though we fast-forwarded past foreplay and went directly to fucking.

Seeing Bobby nude and ready; yep, that was enough to get me on fire before he even touched me.

“Bobby…ah…ah..,” I cry as he sinks into me faster and faster.

I wrap my legs around his hips and he scoops my butt from the bed, up and into his hard thrusts. I’m close, so close, and I can tell by the tension across his back and the twitching of his arms that he is, too.

“Open your eyes, Kaley. Watch what you do to me.”

My lids flutter wide.

That’s it.

I come apart, staring at him, jaw tense as he spills into me. He collapses down on me and we’re both laughing. He turns us until we’re on our backs.

He kisses my forehead. “We could have done that hours ago. We would have been back at the party before anyone noticed us gone.”

I kiss his chest.

He groans. “I don’t want to go back to the ’Sades tonight without you.”

I lean up and stare down at him. “It’s so stupid that I have to stay here with the rest of the kids while Mom and Alan are off on their honeymoon. I should be able to be home alone if I want to.”

He brushes the hair back from my face. “We’ll figure something out. Another week without seeing you. Nope, not doing it.”

My eyes widen. “Ask Grandpa Jack if you can stay. He’d probably love it. You can surf with him.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I already did. About an hour into the reception. The answer was hell no.”

*  *  *

An hour later, we slip quietly back into the tent. My face falls. Mom and Alan are gone. I missed it.

For some reason my glowing mood deserts me.

“Do you want to stay at the party?” Bobby asks. “It doesn’t look like it’s winding down anytime soon.”

I shake my head. “No, can we go walk on the beach for a while before you have to leave?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.” He smiles. “And I’m not leaving until Jack throws me out.”

I make a small laugh and he drapes his arm around my shoulders. We turn and head for the steps built into the cliffs.

Bobby pauses at the top, staring down at the beach. “I think this is a bust, Kaley. I’m pretty sure that’s security at the bottom blocking access to shoreline.”

“Yep, put them there myself, just to keep you two out of trouble,” teases a voice from behind me.

I whirl to see Grandpa Jack sitting on a chaise.

I roll my eyes. “Very funny, Poppy.”

He grins. “I’m getting old. I need help. Something tells me I’m definitely going to have to be on my game this week.”

I flush, but Bobby laughs.

Jack’s magnificent eyes gleam. He points at the lounger next to him. “Come sit with your grandfather and talk for a while. I didn’t get two moments alone with you in there, Kaley.”

I stop Bobby with a hand on his arm. “Whatever you do, don’t go for a walk alone with him,” I whisper fiercely into his ear.

Bobby frowns, amused. “Why? I like Jack.”

“Don’t do it.” I give him a wide-eyed, intense stare before we step back from the cliffs.

We settle on the vacant chair beside Jack, me in the V of Bobby’s legs, leaning back into his chest with his arms around me.

“It was pretty cool that you were able to become a licensed justice of the peace so you could marry them,” Bobby says.

Jack smiles. “You kids aren’t the only ones who know how to make the most of the Internet.” And then his gaze shifts to me. “You can find just about anything online these days.”

My body covers in prickles.

Oh crap, why does it feels like Jack knows about my blog, my websites and my Kaley’s World videos? Even Bobby doesn’t know about Kaley’s World and I fully intend to keep it that way.

“You doing OK, baby girl?”

“Sure, Poppy. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jack shakes his head in that I’m not buying it way he has.

“Your mom marrying again. Not exactly a small life change for you. It would be understandable if you weren’t doing completely well with this.”

He says it so quietly that I almost miss it and then it shoots through my body at once, what he’s saying beyond the words, and how he’s trying to be there for me without betraying my mother.

“You forget, I’ve lived with Alan before. This change is a repeat.”

Jack’s blue eyes meet mine directly. “Nothing in life is a repeat. Not this moment. Not the next. You don’t have to pretend it’s nothing to you if it is.”

“I’m not pretending anything,” I exclaim, irritation slipping into my voice.

Jack nods, his lips scrunched up together, his chin moving out just a touch in that way he sometimes has with me that I know means he wants to say more and won’t.

Jack stares at the ocean. “Even with the best map, Kaley, you’ll still find unexpected roads. I have. Your mom has. Alan has, and you and Bobby won’t be any different. The trick is to travel the ones you should and avoid the ones that will hurt you. But sometimes you can’t tell the difference, you go too far down a road, and end up lost and not knowing how to turn around. No matter how hard we all try to pick the right road, we all at times go the wrong way.”

I study him trying to figure out where he’s going with this and why now.

“Are you saying that’s what my mother did?” I ask. “Picked a wrong road and doesn’t know how to turn around? It looks to me like she just did a giant U-turn today.”

Jack lapses into silence. My body grows tauter and tauter as I wait to see if he’ll stop with the euphemisms, acknowledge outright what I just asked, and talk to me straight.

His blue eyes meet mine directly. “I’m saying that for the most part your life has been a pretty nice road. A few bumps here and there, but always surrounded by people who love you. Neil loved you and was a good father. Jesse loved you and was a fantastic stepfather. And Alan has loved you every minute of your life. Isn’t that the most important thing? Looks to me like you’ve been a pretty lucky girl.”

“Have I?”

Jack smiles. “Without a doubt. It doesn’t matter if your life isn’t exactly how you think it should be or even hoped it would be. If it’s good, it’s good. And I’ll take that over everything else, baby girl, any day of the week.”

I stare down at my clasped hands, frantically sorting through everything he’s trying to tell me without saying it, and trying to escape the unwanted pricks of hurt.

Bobby’s hands move soothingly up and down my arms. “I think we’ll go back to the party, Jack.”

Jack’s eyes shift to Bobby. “I’ve always liked you. You’re a nice, kid. Respectful. But the pool house is closed until further notice. Remember, son, you can either be a man or a fuck-up, and no one can make you a fuck-up unless you’re willing.”

A tense quiet surrounds us.

I stare, stunned.

Oh God, did Grandpa Jack really just slip in the don’t be a fuck-up speech on top of everything else that went down out here?

“I’ll remember that, sir,” Bobby says as he stands.

Jack nods. “Good. And maybe you can come back during the week and we can do some surfing. Pool house is closed, but you are welcome here always, Bobby, so long as we understand each other.”


CHAPTER 22

 

Two months later

The audio-visual lab door opens and Bobby crosses the room and settles on the edge of the desk beside me.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

I continue to edit my video and don’t look up. “I can’t. I’ve got to finish cutting this short and get it turned in today or I get a zero on my midterm grade and then I have to be at OCD in half an hour.”

He fixes me in a disbelieving stare. “OCD? You got dentation the last day of school before spring break?”

“Uh-huh. And my free bonus gift is I think Mr. Jamison e-mailed Chrissie because she texted me like right after and I have to go straight home after detention so we’re not going to have any time together before you take off to Palm Springs with the guys this weekend. Groovy, huh?”

He lets out a slow breath. “What’d you do this time?”

For some reason I’m a little irritated with that. I make a face at him. “I didn’t do anything. Natasha and her posse strike again. Filled my locker with a wonderful collection of scintillating tabloid tidbits about my family and when I opened the door they all fell to the floor. And of course they were all watching and whooped it up over the whole thing. And I’m the one who got written up for bullying for giving them the finger while I was on the floor cleaning up their mess.”

He gives me a sympathetic grimace, his head tilting to one side just enough to making him look really adorable and totally forgiven for the earlier flash of criticism. “You’ve got to be kidding. They wrote you up for bullying for giving Natasha Blackburn the finger?”

“Yep. Mr. Jamison was in the hallway, saw the entire thing, but the second I gave those girls the finger it was ‘Miss Stanton, principal’s office.’”

He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. It’s just not right. Did you try to explain that you weren’t the instigator?”

I click save on the edited film and slouch back in my chair. “Nope. It wouldn’t have mattered and it doesn’t matter how many freaking pink slips I get. I got my acceptance e-mail to USC today during fifth period, we’re out of here next month, and I’m never looking back, Bobby.”

“You got into film school? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

He takes my hands, guides me onto my feet, and eases me between the V of his legs. “That’s incredible. I’m so proud of you, Kaley.”

“So you see I don’t really give a fuck what any of them do to me anymore. I’ve got my guy. I’ve got my film program and I’m out of here next month forever.”

He doesn’t laugh. He frowns instead. “If that’s how you feel, how come you’re in OCD again? Why not just let Natasha’s bullshit roll off your back? I know all the ink about your family sucks for you but it’s all bullshit so why can’t you ignore it?”

“I know that the shit in the tabloids about Mom and Alan is just that. Shit. Nothing new, Bobby. I’ve been reading crud about Alan, crud about Mom, crud about my family in print as long as I can remember. I’m surprised there isn’t an article in the rag sheets claiming Chrissie had sex with a Martian and all five of us kids are green aliens. So stupid, I’ve lived this movie before and it’s no big deal. That part of it I do ignore.”

He studies my face. “OK, then how come you keep ending up in OCD? This is your ninth time in April alone.”

“If I had known Natasha could be such a malicious bitch I would have never called her a ‘twat’ the first month of school. She’s positively relentless like those monsters that die in horror films but keep on coming back. I don’t care what she does to me, she knows it, so now she’s bullying Zoe and no way am I backing down with that crap going on.”

His jaw drops. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

I stare up at him. “Nope. And don’t tell Jake. Zoe doesn’t want anyone to know. She’s so embarrassed. They stuff Zoe’s locker with little notes about Jake and photoshopped pictures of her that are just awful. I know it was them. They’ve been posting some really cruel things on their pages. Harassing her in group texts. They are all-out cyberbullying her just because she’s my friend. Zoe pretends it doesn’t bother her, but she’s a mess over this. They’re hideous girls. Somehow they never get into trouble for any of it. How do you ignore girls like that? I can’t. Zoe’s my best friend.”

“Do you want me to stay at OCD with you?”

I brighten. “You’d really do that?”

“Yep. I’d do anything for you.” He brushes aside my hair and starts kissing me on the neck. “It’s going to be awful not seeing you until Tuesday. Why don’t you come to Palm Springs with everyone, Kaley?”

I groan as his kisses move to my ear. “I can’t. It wouldn’t be right, Bobby, because everyone isn’t going. Zoe can’t and she’s really down, really depressed that Jake is going without her. I don’t want to ditch her. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to do.”

His mouth moves to my lips, teasing me slowly, and then eases back. “Fine. But I’m not going to have fun without you.”

I make a pout. “Yes, you are. Just don’t have too much fun. Instead, think of how much fun you’re going to have when you get back Tuesday.”

He grins. “Oh yeah. Definitely want to think about that.”

Laughing, I go back to the desk and quickly attach the video project to an e-mail and send it off to my visual arts teacher. “There. Done. If I can I’ll stop by your house before you leave.”

He loops his arm around my shoulders and walks me down to the detention room. He reaches for the knob and pulls me in for a fast, heated kiss before he opens the door.

“Try not to get into any more trouble for one hour,” he teases. “If you rack up a pink slip while serving time for a pink slip I’m pretty sure that’s not going to go well for you and I don’t want you grounded so we can’t take off for Santa Cruz next week.”

I make a silly face. “I’ll be a perfect angel.” I can feel my eyes grow sparkly. “I’d hate to ruin Santa Cruz for us.”

Bobby breathes out in a slow, luscious way. “I’ve been looking forward to a repeat of Thanksgiving for weeks.”

I flush. “Me, too.”

He pulls back the door wide. “In, Miss Stanton. The sooner you get in there, the sooner you get home.”

I enter the room. Empty—no surprise, since I’m pretty sure I’m the only one with a lame enough life to get detention the last day before a two-week break—and then I turn back to Bobby. “I’ll text you when I get home and let you know if I can go to your house before you leave.”

When the door closes behind me, I reach into my pocket for the pink slip and stop in front of the desk where my advocacy teacher is sitting.

I hold out the paper to her. “Sorry, Mrs. Trent.”

She looks up from her laptop and points at the chair. “Sit, Miss Stanton.” She leans back, staring at me above the rims of her half-glasses. She frowns. “Are you doing OK, dear?”

I tense.

That question I wasn’t expected.

I nod. “I’m great.”

Her crinkled brows lower. “I know you kids don’t think so, but you can talk to me about anything. Not just about your future academic plans. Talking to someone might work better than how you are dealing with your circumstance at present.”

Hmm—well, this is random. Where is she going with this?

She slaps shut the laptop, grabs a pen, and signs my pink slip. “Get out of here, Kaley. You don’t need detention for giving Natasha the bird. We’re done for today.”

I stare at her, stunned.

“Thank you, Mrs. Trent. You can be really cool sometimes.”

Her brows shoot up. “No, I’m not being cool. I want you to remember what I said. Talk to me. There are other ways to deal with your issues than how you are managing them.”

A burn crowds my cheeks, but I nod and hurry out of the room before she can say anything else or change her mind.

When I get to the parking lot, Bobby has already cut out. I debate whether I should go to his house and pretend I was at OCD or go home like Chrissie ordered me to.

I climb into my car and pull from my spot. At the exit, I look left toward Bobby’s and right toward my house. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel and I slowly exhale.

Go home, Kaley. Home. You just caught a break. Don’t fuck it up now.

Groaning, I turn right and head for home. When I enter the house it’s quiet—a good sign that I did the right thing not going to Bobby’s first—and I cross to the kitchen and dump my stuff on the center island.

Jeez, it doesn’t even sound like anyone is home.

I quickly start checking rooms.

Family room empty.

I open the French doors, step out onto the patio, and hear a raspy, accented voice. Oh crud. Alan is sitting at a table looking hyperindustrious—weird, totally weird—laptop open, definitely not happy, and his expression stiff like he’s in some sort of intense phone conversation.

Slowly, I step back and turn, trying to get into the house before he sees me.

“Kaley, please sit. I’ll be done with this in a second. I’d like to talk to you,” Alan announces, abrupt, and I turn to find him staring at me, cellphone away from his ear.

Fuck, are the planets out of whack or something?

Why does everyone want to talk to me today?

I close the sliding door and drop down onto a chair across the table from Alan. My leg starts to jiggle as I listen to him continue to jabber into the phone.

Waiting, Alan, waiting. So rude. Fuck. I’m going to miss Bobby if this keeps up.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” Alan says and I look up to see the cell sitting on the table. “I’m leaving for New York later tonight and there’s a lot going on right now.”

OK, status report done—as if I give a shit.

I smile. “It’s OK.”

His eyes lock on the computer and he starts clicking. “Come sit over here, Kaley. I want to show you something.”

I move to his side of the table and sit in the chair beside him. He moves the laptop in front of me.

“Your photographs are lovely. Your mom thinks so and so do I, but we would prefer if you stopped posting them online.”

For a second my heart stills until the screen comes into focus for my eyes. Then I frown. This is what all the fuss is about? It’s a picture of Mom and Alan with the boys. It’s a sweet picture. Our weird family normal.

I study it, feeling my emotion kick up. It’s undeniable. Definitely unexpected. Alan is a surprisingly good parental figure, and as involved a stepfather for my brothers and sisters as Jesse was for me. Nope, I didn’t expect that. It hasn’t been totally awful this repeat of living with Alan. Krystal and the twins seem happier.

So what’s wrong with this picture?

Maybe he thinks it ruins his image.

Stupid, Alan.

It makes you likeable.

Maybe that’s what’s bugging him.

I look at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve done to piss you guys off, but it’s really none of your business what I post on my social media pages. I can’t believe you spied on me.”

Alan’s black eyes sharpen. “It’s our business because what you post affects all of us. You’ve got the house in that photograph, sweetheart. The street number. I would prefer you didn’t do that until I can convince your mother to live somewhere less accessible. My security sent it to me when it popped online.”

My face colors.

His security spies on me?

Un-fucking-believable.

“It doesn’t matter what I post,” I counter hotly. “Anyone who wants to can already find out where we live and that’s Mom’s fault and not mine or didn’t your nifty security team discover that one yet? She filled out my school packet at the beginning of the year and checked the box to make it public on our loop. It’s been up since August.”

“Oh fu—” He stops himself quickly, then rakes a hand through his hair. He makes a charming, slightly inane, apologetic expression. “Sorry, I shouldn’t swear around you kids.”

I shake my head. He tries. He really tries. I’ll give him that even though I don’t want to. I keep my expression carefully neutral. “Is that all? Can I go?”

Those black eyes lock on me.

“No, the other concern is Khloe. You’ve been posting a lot of pictures of her and that stops now. Both Chrissie and I would prefer you not do that either.”

My stomach does a painful shimmy. “You mean all this is about Khloe? Your big concern all of a sudden with my photographs and social media is paranoid overreaction over your daughter. We live in the ’Sades not Mexico City. Get a grip.”

Alan visibly flinches.

OK, that was mean, harsh and totally illogical since Alan is probably right about everything but, fuck, hello, no one ever gives a shit about me and you aren’t today.

“It’s about all of us,” Alan says succinctly.

Right.

“Fine. No posting. At least until after I move out next month. After that I’m doing what I want.”

Alan stares at me, alarmed. “Moving out? What are you talking about?”

His reaction surprises me.

It almost sounds like he doesn’t want me to.

I shrug. “I’m done with high school at the end of May and I’m getting the hell out of here. Bobby and I are going to get a place together.”

Inwardly I cringe, feeling the bite even though it was only a little lie, since Bobby and I haven’t really talked about that, but I’m pretty sure it’s what he wants us to do.

I change directions. “Are we done? Is this why Mom wanted me to come straight home? For this? Or do I still have to check in with Mom?”

He studies me for a long moment. “We’re done. And you don’t have to check in with Chrissie, but you should.”

I stand up. “Tell Mom I went to Zoe’s.”

Alan lifts a brow. “Why don’t you not go to Zoe’s tonight? Eventually your mom is going to figure out what going to Zoe’s means, Kaley. It’s going to hurt her when she does, the lying to her and realizing she missed it. Maybe you should stay in and finally talk to Chrissie honestly. There seems to be quite a bit going on in your life she knows nothing about.”

My entire face reddens. “Thanks for the suggestion, but I already have plans.”

Alan focuses on gathering up his things. “I want you to tell me the truth. You never being home, is it about me, Kaley? Or the nonsense in the press? Or something else your mother and I don’t know?”

I gape.

Really?

Do you actually want me to believe you don’t know why I can’t stand being here with you?

“It has nothing to do with you,” I say dismissively. “I do have a life, Alan.”

“We used to have a good relationship. I don’t know why you’re so hostile now.”

“I’m not eight anymore. I’m not hostile. I don’t avoid you. I don’t think of you at all.”

Those words unexpectedly cut at my insides.

That was mean, Kaley, mean. Far from the truth, not what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Crap, I need to get the fuck out of here right now before this all blows up into something even more unpleasant.

I start to turn away, but Alan’s gaze halts me, flooding me with an array of unsettling, warring sensations.

“If you are always gone and eager to move out because of me, then I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice potent with tightly leashed emotion. “That is not what I wanted. If it’s something else I wish you’d confide in your mother. If you’re angry over the garbage being spewed in the press, then I want you to know this directly from me. The only true things you’ve read are that I’ve loved your mother most of my life and Khloe is my daughter. The rest, sweetheart, is lies.”

I stare at him, my insides growing colder and colder with each second. A non-denial denial that I’m his daughter since that is part of the ‘lies’ in the rag sheets these day. I can’t get air into my lungs. I hold back the tears until I’m in my bedroom.

*  *  *

When I get to Bobby’s, his car is already gone and he’s left for the desert. Damn. I pull out of the Rowans’ driveway and head for the Kennedys’.

I’m let into the house by the housekeeper, and quickly make my way to Zoe’s room. She’s sitting on her bed wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top—crap, I was right. Depression city—staring at something on her iPad with a wounded dimness in her eyes.

I feel kind of wounded myself after that hideous talk with Alan on the patio. Zoe being a mess gives me something to focus on other than the sorry state of my own life.

I toss down my bag and flop onto my stomach on her bed. “What’s wrong? More crap from Natasha?”

She shakes her head, and clicks off the tablet before I can see the screen. “Nothing. I just really wish we were going to Palm Springs.”

“Me, too.” I shake my head and groan. “I wish you’d been at school today. It was hideous from first bell. The worst freaking day ever. Bizarreness from beginning to end. Everyone in my business about everything. Natasha and her posse. Mr. Jamison actually sent me to OCD this afternoon. Mrs. Trent wanted to have that ‘I’m not just your teacher, I’m your friend’ girl chat. All worried and shit about me over something. And the cherry on the cake of my day was quality time with my current male parental figure. I’ve been ordered not to post any of my work online and then, to add insult to injury, he in not-so-many words denied he was my father.”

Zoe’s eyes go wide. “He didn’t?”

I nod.

“Are you OK?”

“Sure. Great,” I whisper, trying to speak through the lump in my throat.

She studies me, gnawing at her lower lip. “Maybe you should cool it with your websites and blogs for a while. Some of the Kaley’s Word stuff. It’s not funny anymore. Especially the stuff about Alan. It’s sort of—”

I give her the stare. “Sort of what?”

She lifts her chin. “Wrong.”

“Well, I think those videos are just fine.” I let out a frustrated breath. “And it’s not like anyone knows I’m doing them or that they’re about Alan or anyone else I post about. No one knows I’m Kaley’s World. And the only reason you know who they’re about is because you know me. It’s not wrong. It’s satire. And no one knows for sure who the videos are about.”

“What if someone hacked you? Found out? You’ve been saying some really unkind things, Kaley. Even about Khloe.”

I roll my eyes. “They won’t. It’s all cool, Zoe.”

“No, Kaley, there is nothing cool about any of the things you’ve been posting online on your secret accounts lately.”

We square off with our eyes and Zoe looks away first.

Thank God.

I don’t want to talk about my social media accounts, I don’t want to talk about my dad, and I definitely don’t want to have another Kaley, you should tell Bobby about this discussion. Nope, not doing it. Bobby would blow if he saw any of it.

“So what do you want to do this weekend?” I ask, abruptly changing the subject.

She crinkles her nose. “Anything. I’m bored out of my skull. My folks took off for Morea this morning and the house is so quiet I can’t stand it.”

“Your folks are gone? There is no one home.”

Zoe nods. “For a month.”

“Damn it, Zoe. We could have gone to Palm Springs. Ian and Yotti wouldn’t even have known if we’d taken off.”

Her pretty face grows anxious and serious. “Nope. Not lying to them. This time I’m staying home like they told me to. I’ve been sitting here all day thinking about all the things I haven’t been busted for yet and how pissed off they’re going to be if they ever discover them. Ian totally flipped out when he found out—and thank you, Kaley, for posting it on your Facebook—that I went to Mexico with Jake without tell them. I’ve never seen Ian so angry. But my dad really scared me with all that ‘this is what could happen to you’ shit. I’m going to lay low for a while, Kaley, and I think maybe you should, too.”

I blink at her.


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