Music blares from the headphones covering his ears, but he doesn’t even spare a glance in my direction as he walks over to the fruit bowl and grabs a banana.
“Luca!” Mum snaps. “No balls in the house, I told you?—”
He strolls out of the kitchen, not even acknowledging her.
There’s a heavy pause, and then she turns her dire back on me.
“Would it hurt you to make more of an effort with your brother?”
Stepbrother.
I snort. “Right. Like he’s madesomuch effortwith me.”
She sighs as I finally make my escape, speaking loud enough that I know she wants me to hear her final cutting remark. “How did I end up with such an ungrateful daughter?”
How did I end up with such an uncaring mother?
I take the stairs two at a time, scowling as I storm down the hall to my bedroom. She hasn’t always been like this, but ever since she married George Whitford four years ago, I’ve felt like nothing I do is good enough for her.
She moved us into the Whitfords’ mansion halfway through mine and Luca’s final year at Beckford High. Until that moment, I had been content being a nobody—I had Leni, who I’d met at the beginning of that year when I found her crying in the bathroom after breaking up with her arsehole ex, and that was enough for me. I planned on ignoring my stepbrother and continuing my invisible life, but I didn’t count on his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Breanna Walters, setting her sights on me.
When she came to the house, she was as nice as sickly sweet pie, all fake smiles and pretending to be my bestie in front of my mother. Mum lapped it up, telling me how proud she was of me getting in with the ‘popular crowd’. Little did she know that same crowd were the ones who tripped me up in the school cafeteria, fat-shamed me on social media with doctored photos, and wrote nasty messages about me on the toilet walls. In short, Breanna single-handedly made my life a living hell… and Luca did nothing to stop it.
Only barely restraining myself from slamming mybedroom door, I flop onto my bed and scream into my pillow.
I hate this place so much, and I can’t wait to leave for Los Angeles next year. Somehow, I don’t think living in another country will be far enough away from her. She’ll still find a way to tear me down.
Needing to feel better about myself, I pick up my phone and open the Euphoria app. There are a few unread messages in my DMs, but I’ve only been replying to one for the past six months. I click on his profile.
@PhantomMenace: I can’t stop thinking about you.
@HeavenlySiren: Oh, yeah? What are you thinking about?
@PhantomMenace: How seeing you every month drowns out all the noise.
@PhantomMenace: I’m not sure I can wait a whole month to see you.
@HeavenlySiren: You’re going to have to.
@PhantomMenace: Not if you meet me earlier.
@HeavenlySiren: I told you, I can’t.
@PhantomMenace: Why not?
@PhantomMenace: And don’t give me any bullshit about how I won’t like you. I’ve seen you naked, Angel, and I love EVERYTHING about you.
I bite my bottom lip, fighting a smile.
He may think I drown out the noise for him, but I’m not deluding myself to think it’s more than just sex. We literally met at a sex club. Besides the pleasure I give him each month, he knows nothing about me.
When my best friend, Leni, invited me to go to her cousin’s exclusive sex club six months ago, I laughed in her face. It wasn’t because I was a prude—far from it. It was because I didn’t want anyone in our hometown finding out about my… sexual proclivities. I still remember my high school boyfriend’s disgust when I told him what I wanted to try in the bedroom. Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last, and I didn’t share my desires with either of the guys I slept with after him, faking orgasms until I gave up and decided I was destined to be single.
I wasn’t interested in putting myself out there to be looked down upon again, but Leni told me they have masked nights once a month to protect the anonymity of the club’s members, so I reluctantly agreed to go with her to see what it was all about. I never expected to actually engage in anything at the club.
That is, until I met the phantom.
@HeavenlySiren: Patience is a virtue, pet.
