“Awful,” I admitted and told her about the library incident, censoring where needed, substituting kissing for tit-fucking.
“So, you caught him with a girl? Like, kissing?”
“Yup… kissing, and not caring who saw.”
Cici laughed. “I wonder if she’s his girlfriend?”
I pulled a face. “I hope for her sake he isn’t. He wasn’t being very nice to her.”
“Horrible! That’s Brody, right?”
“Mm-hmm, an arrogant, stuck-up English asshole, as far as first, second, and third impressions go. Oh, and he’s Mr. Popular despite only arriving here about a week ago, since they’re the Hellions’ shot at winning this year. Apparently, they’re good hockey players.”
Cici sighed. “Then he’s only about to get more bigheaded. We all know how much Hade Harbor worships hockey.”
“Yep.”
“What about the twin brother?”
“Weird, broody, ‘keeps to the shadows but is always watching’ kind of vibe.”
“Great. I can’t wait to come home and meet them,” Cici said, her bony fingers twisting in worry.
The last thing I wanted was anything to make Cici feel nervous.
“They won’t even notice us, seriously. We are beneath their notice. You don’t have to worry about it at all. If you feelintimidated by Brody, just think of him as…” I searched my brain for a British insult I could nickname our new stepbrother with.
“Mr. Bellend,” I finished, triumphant. It was an insult from one of our favorite BBC shows.
Cici laughed heartily. “Mr. Bellend. I like it, though I’m still not sure what it means.”
“Maybe Brody can explain it to us,” I laughed.
A nurse approached us from the side.
“Good afternoon. I’ve got Miss Cici’s snack for her,” he said gently.
I looked at Cici. Her laughter had gone, and her jaw was tight.
“Thanks, I’ll take it,” I said, taking the protein shake from him.
“Wow, look at this, it’s a very social-media-friendly aesthetic, isn’t it? The glass and the straw, even the shake is like one of those fancy expensive smoothies everyone’s drinking?—”
“Don’t.” Cici’s voice was quiet. Resigned.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t try and pretend it’s anything other than a high-calorie meal substitute. The same one they force down my throat three times a day.”
I stared at her, torn about what to say. What could I even respond to that? It was true. Cici had real problems, and as much as I wished she would just laugh and down the damn drink, she couldn’t.
“Sorry. I’m rattled. Mom bought me a few bags of what she called ‘elegant outfits’ earlier, and I’m getting worried I’ll have to wear one soon.”
Cici chuckled at the thought of me in one of mom’s “elegant outfits.”
“Can’t she see that your style has changed? I’d think the piercings would tip her off.”
I nodded. “Well, you know Mom. Ever the optimist.”
