“But this is Mom’s table,” I say it low for my dad’s ear only, but the room stills because the passive-aggressive bitch in me made damn sure everyone around us heard.
“Oh, hon.” Beverly pours out her faux sense of sorrow, thick as vomit. “I’ll have it stored for you, and when you and Warren buy your first home, we’ll have it ready and waiting.” She winks over at me, and I wonder if that’s her socialite way of saying F.U. and your dead mother’s table, too. “See? You’re already on your way to starting a family of your own.” She tilts into a peaceable smile. Deep down inside I’m convinced she knows I’m not into Warren. Maybe that’s what she and Kennedy discuss over lunch before they buy overpriced beach bags. “It’ll all work out. I promise.”
I don’t think it’ll all work out. What I do think is that my Step Bitch isn’t quite done booting my mother out of my father’s life. When Beverly moved in, she had the wrought-iron railing plucked right off the stairwell and replaced it with sheet glass and a metallic track that lined the top, and now it has no more feeling than a rain gutter. As soon as she took over the house, she systematically removed every last piece of my mother that I cherished and replaced them with cold, unfeeling works of questionable “art.” I can’t bear the thought of losing this table to some faraway storage unit. They might as well bury it in the cemetery right next to my mother. I don’t want to wait until I finish with graduate school one day and finally move out to see it again. God knows I’ll never share a home with Warren.
“Speaking of homes”—Dad nods out the window at the neighbor’s property—“the Nicholson’s house is up for sale.” The exact one nestled between our house and the McCarthy’s.
I roll my eyes at the thought of shacking up with Warren, now or ever, and sandwiched between our parents no less. Just the thought makes me want to stab my eye out with a fork.
Nope—not happening.
I’m so head over heels in love with Ace, I can’t see straight.
This is the start of something spectacular. I can feel it.
Ace Waterman is the one for me, and there is no other—never was, never will be.
A few, lazy, Ace-free days slip by. Gavin hauled Ace into the backwoods in order to chop down an entire Connecticut forest. And now that the emergency hacking spree is over, we can resume our regularly-scheduled debauchery and bring honor to the good name of summer flings everywhere. Well, almost.
I swivel around in my chair, more than slightly irritated as I stare at my desk.
Normally I keep track of important things like when my papers are due, when I’ll be having a quiz, and when my period might interrupt one of the most exciting weeks of my life. But despite my meticulous attempts at mapping my life out on a calendar, I totally forgot that red witch was due to shoot right out of my fallopian tubes. This pretty much ruins things for me tonight, but it doesn’t mean Ace has to suffer.
Brylee sits on my bed whittling a banana into a bona fide penis while I watch the careful attention she puts into her pornographic art.
“You should go on tour or something,” I muse. “People would pay to see this. They’d call you the Penis Peeler. You’d be a hit in galleries all over the country. Society is sick as fuck, but don’t you worry your pretty little head, you fit right in,” I say as she unearths the fruit’s true phallic form, complete with ridges and what looks like a vein running down the middle, a tip that looks more like a crown. “Maybe you could sit outside of the general store with an empty coffee can? I’ll seed you some tip money.”
“You’re a riot.” She squeezes the poor thing until it launches right out of its casing and into my chest. I let out a short-lived scream followed by a rather swift eviction of the sticky mess. “That’s a dick’s favorite thing to do.” She presses out a manufactured smile. “Come right at you.”
“That’s disgusting,” I say, still plucking the mess out of my tank top.
“Tell it to Ace.” She gives a light kick to my knee. “So, you break things off with Warren?” She unties her bathing suit top at the neck and accidentally flashes me before redoing her strap.
“What’s with everyone today? First, Kennedy—now you? We were never together. He’s fine with me seeing other people. We’ve discussed it—I kicked his balls, I believe the topic is no longer on the agenda.” Somehow I don’t believe that. I doubt I could have a Warren-free summer let alone a Warren-free lifetime.
“In theory? Or do you know this as a fact?” Brylee leans in as if there were a real need for an answer.
“Fact. Besides, I’m not advertising Ace anytime soon. He made it clear we’re BFFs forever, remember?” I wipe my chest down with a tissue. “Warren is yesterday’s news. He needs to find himself someone new to blue ball him.”
“You ever going to tell Ace how you really feel?” Brylee’s eyes glitter up with tears. Her lips redden as if she were sorry for me in a severe way. Looks like I’m not the only one PMSing around here.
“No.” I push out a sigh as I fall back on my pillow. “We’re in such a good place right now, I don’t want to ruin things.”
“I know right?” She mocks, landing beside me. “I mean, that little pesky thing called thetruthhas fucked up more relationships than I can number.”
“Be quiet.”
“Promise me something.” She nudges her thigh into mine. “You’ll tell him the truth at the end of all this madness.”
“At the end of all this madness,” I parrot softly. I think about it for a second. “I mean, at that point summer will be over.” I shrug, trying to reason it out. “It’s not like I’ll see him until next year. I’ll be home for Christmas, and that’s when he sees his mom.” Ace and I can play hit and miss for the rest of our lives if we want to.
“Nobody remembers anything in a year.” She’s goading me, but I go with it.
“I guess you’re right.” I chew the inside of my cheek until I’m about to draw blood. “Yeah, I think I will tell him how I really feel at the end of summer.” A spike of adrenaline surges in me at the thought.
“Pinky swear?” She holds out her hand.
“Pinky swear.” I hook my little finger over hers, and we shake on it. Suddenly it feels as if a boulder has been lifted from my chest, and I can breathe again. I hadn’t felt this light in so long. I had forgotten how good it felt. I’m walking on air, and it’s all because I’m finally going to tell Ace Waterman exactly how I feel.
