Jay bobbed his head up and down. “I’m having a party at the end of the month. Would you be up for a jam session? I drum when I have time and would love to get something going.”
How long had it been since I jammed live? Probably not since junior high with my dad. A sensation of lightness washed over me. Something like true happiness rushed through my veins.
“Yeah, that sounds awesome.”
“It’s gonna be epic,” Jay said with an easy grin, digging into his food.
I glanced toward Terri’s table. She and her friend sat huddled in a dark corner, as if they hoped by staying in the dark, they wouldn’t pull anyone’s attention.
A pang clenched my heart.
Katrina pushed herself into my line of sight, flashing a grin. “Let me give you my number so I can text you Jay’s address. He has this awesome pool, so make sure and bring your swim shorts.” She lifted an eyebrow and slid her gaze down my chest, then to the table as if she could see through to my crotch. “Or don’t.”
Her friends giggled and Jay guffawed.
I frowned, unsure if I should be flattered or offended at her attention, but I didn’t have time to think about it because they began bombarding me with questions about my life in Louisiana.
Chapter eight
Terri Kingston
“Terri,”Momsaid,cuttingher filet mignon. “Whatever in the world possessed you to wear trousers today? You know they make your hips appear wider.”
I glanced down at my half-finished plate. After spilling most of my lunch on the floor today, my appetite had been ravenous, but it disappeared with her words.
“And your hair looks like a dirty rat’s nest without something to tie it back.” She glanced at me over her glass of red wine, then sipped. “When I was your age, my mother would’ve died of shame if she’d caught me in pants. It takes a lot of work to keep a good figure. Start early, and you won’t have to try as hard when you’re older.”
I dropped my fork to my plate with a loud plink. The stirrings of anger simmered just below my skin.
“It’s not the 1980s any longer, Mom, and I’m not a small child, either.”
“Well, of course you’re not a smallanything, are you, dear?” Her tone, smooth and low, told me she’d had about two glasses too many of her precious dinner drink.
Dad cleared his throat. “Lana, would you pass the salt?”
My sister, sitting across from me, gave me a sad frown then handed the tiny shaker to Dad.
Under the table, Paxton laid a hand on my thigh, as if trying to lend me some calm.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kingston—”
“Oh, please call me Charlotte. Mrs. Kingston makes me sound so old.”
“Yes ma’am. Jeremy Knight invited me to a pool party in a few weeks.”
“Jay’s a good kid,” Dad said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. “His father and I go way back. As a matter of fact”—he leaned into his chair—“we went to school together with your dad.”
Paxton gave a cough, then washed his food down with a glass of water “Is it okay if I go to the party?” He cast his attention to his plate, dragging his fork through roasted potatoes.
“Of course. How wonderful.” Mom beamed a wide smile. “Terrinevergets invited to anything. If she’d only try a little harder—”
Why does she always treat me this way?For as long as I could remember, Mom could never give a compliment without peppering it with an insult.
I knew she’d had a difficult childhood with her own mother, who’d been a successful Hollywood actress in the seventies, but it still wasn’t an excuse to treat me the same way.
Or Lana.I glanced to my sister.She’s so sweet and gentle.If Mom carried on, she’d grind Lana down into nothing, too. But I didn’t know how to stand up for myself andmakeher hear me. I’d never been one to argue, to start a fight, or to talk back. I hated to cause trouble and would do almost anything to avoid it.
Yet sometimes the anger and hurt built to a point where it felt like I would explode if I didn’t let it out.
