In the back of the car, Molly and I caught up about Nix’s situation, although it felt like the dude behind the wheel was listening. She explained that Phoenix hadn’t said much to Hudson, but that the meeting with his mother had gone as expected. Molly said that Hudson had also given the big guy space to sort his shit out. We all knew that if you pushed Phoenix before he was ready to talk, he’d build an even bigger barrier. A bit like me, I suppose.
Eventually, we arrived at Storm’s house.
I didn’t understand why I felt so nervous, like a lamb entering the lion’s den. It’s not like I hadn’t been in the Summer’s mansion before. Storm and I had also agreed to a truce, and so I couldn’t blame the usual dread I felt in her company. Maybe it was because I had never been on a girl’s sleepover before? I didn’t know what to expect: Twinkies and pillow fights, as Nix had mentioned, or face packs and nails?
After we got to the house, we were chaperoned upstairs by the snobby butler dude, Mitchell, or something. He’d explained that Storm was expecting us and was in her room.
The Queen Bee’s bedroom door was open, and Molly gave me a smile of reassurance before she knocked twice.
And. Nothing.
Casting me a puzzled look, Molly leaned in through the opening and knocked again, calling out. I felt a slight tremor in my chest at the thought of the unexpected. My agreeing to come was all part of my promise to Molly to try tomake things work with Storm. That wouldn’t have been so difficult had my envy of her stunning house not been so painful.
“Storm?” Molly repeated, pushing the door wider and walking into the room. She motioned for me to follow, but it felt like my feet had grown roots. Those nervous knots started to twist again.
A loud clattering noise brought our eyes towards a closed door on the left-hand side of the bedroom.
“Storm?” Molly called out cheerfully as she walked over towards the sound.
“I’ll be right out. Just take it easy and make yourselves at home,” Storm shouted, her voice slightly distorted through solid wood.
“Bathroom?” I mouthed, pointing towards the door.
Molly nodded with a grin and moved back into the middle of the room.
Releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, Molly smiled, taking in how stiff I was.
“Relax. She doesn’t bite.”
With significant effort, I did just that. Considering what I’d been through in my life, visiting Mayor Summer’s only child’s bedroom should be a cakewalk.
We stopped staring at the door where Storm was doing who knew what. A random thought of Storm on the toilet flashed into my mind. Bathrooms were funny things, as we all needed them. They put people on an even keel.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced around.
It appeared Storm had an entire suite to herself. The bedroom section we were standing in was tastefully decorated and contained a luxurious four-poster bed. It was huge, and I wondered how good it would feel to lie on and stretch out. I had a double bed at home, but it wasn’t anywhere near as big as Storm's. Shiny, traditional-style nightstands sat on either side of it. They had matching lamps and assorted face creams on the surface, and from the glass of water and phone charger, I noted Storm must have slept on the right side of the bed. Interesting, as I slept on the left-hand side. Even in sleep, we were opposites.
The rest of the bedroom had the usual bits of furniture. My eyes widened at a quaint seating area situated by the window, wondering how nice it would be to sit there and gaze out at the rolling gardens.
There were several pictures on the walls, all sketches of the human body, and I could see a sound system next to the large, mounted TV. A few items of clothing were strewn across a dresser in the corner, but apart from that, the place was quite tidy.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Molly said as she sat on Storm’s perfectly made mattress. The comforter didn’t even wrinkle. I nodded and continued to take in the space as Molly took out her cell.
Moving around the room, it felt like I was walking on a cloud. The thick carpet was pale gray, and then everything else was white. And I meaneverything, even the bedding and curtains were white. I had half expected Storm’s bedroom to be pink and full of fluffy shit, but there wasn’t one stuffed animal anywhere.
I managed to stop the looming roll of my eyes as I spied a large picture of Storm on the wall. It was one of those glamorous shots. She was staring into the camera and posing in her school cheer uniform. The ex-cheer captain looked stunning and could easily be a fashion model. Beneath the image was a large corkboard with numerous photographs and notices pinned to it.
Upon further inspection, the shots were mostly of Storm with her friends and the cheer squad. From the color of the uniform, they were taken when we were at Harbor Heights together. I didn’t miss the picture of Reed, but decided against saying anything. Storm and Reed were still sneaking around, even though they were so different and from two totally different walks of life. I remember once at school when Tate Parker, the now ex-bitch of Harbor Heights High, accused Storm of screwing one of the Sawyer foster boys. Tate had scathed how she’d rather screw a toaster, and Storm had agreed. Oh, how the tide had turned.
I took a closer look at the image of Reed; the shot was taken when he wasn’t looking. He was shirtless and gripped his football jersey in one hand. I imaginedsomeone had snapped him after a game, considering the way his toned body was covered with a sheen of sweat. It was the type of shot to make a girl weak at the knees. The wolf tattoo, which all the Sawyer Brothers had on their chests and shoulders,glistenedin the sunlight. If you went for know-it-all Jocks that could be as smarmy as fuck and thought with their stomachs, Reed ticked all the boxes. How he maintained that body when he ate so much shit had always been a head scratcher.
Next to the closed bathroom door was an archway that led to a dressing room. The space was half the size of her main bedroom. As I peeked my head in there, I saw tons of colorful shoes, handbags, belts, and clothes on bespoke rails on either side of the area. I recognized various designer labels, but then they were filthy rich. Tucked away at the end was a large dressing table and chair with one of those mirrors that was split into three, so you saw all angles of your face. I couldn’t think of anything worse. From the light bulbs surrounding all sides, it was also one of those that lit up; very Hollywood. Makeup was strewn across the surface along with hair straighteners and a wand.
Everything in the suite was of high quality. The space oozed opulence and wealth.
The only thing that didn’t fit was a handful of newspapers strewn across a writing desk, which sat behind the door. Storm read the paper like an eighty-year-old man? Everything was online these days; why on earth would she read the newspaper? It must have been something to do with her father and keeping track of his socials. Storm had boasted so much about her dear old Daddy and his career, I knew she had been involved in various campaigns of his.
Drawing my eyes away, I started to whistle, feeling impatient. “Do you think she’s OK? She’s taking ages,” I whispered. Molly lifted her head from her phone, and then the bathroom door opened.
