I’m not allowed to retreat to my room. Which means Vivian is stuck out here too.
I really try to be good, but when things get too loud, I retreat to the peaceful back porch. Through the screened-in window, I can see the farm stretched out before me. It’s picturesque, but I can’t enjoy it. Is this my future?
Not a chance. But there’s no rush to tell Dad. It can wait until after Maisy’s birthday. Maybe the next time I’m home.
A quiet humming pulls me out of my thoughts. Vivian halts when he sees me, his humming breaking off. “Why am I not surprised?”
I fold my arms across my chest, but it doesn’t stop my heart from taking off as if I’m running a marathon. I hate the guy. That’s why I can’t catch my breath. It has nothing to do with my stupid dreams. “I was here first. Go away.”
He shrugs one shoulder and gives me a haughty look. “That didn’t work when I was seventeen either. I guess you’re stuck with me.”
Don’t engage. Don’t fight. It’s Maisy’s birthday. “Whatever.” I turn back to stare out the window. Birds play in the birdbath Mom insisted on getting when she was here. Then she left me and the birds to fend for ourselves. I wish I could dance around happily like everything’s great.
But I can’t. I’m stuck in this place. Where no one expects anything from me. Unless they need something lifted. Or need someone to take over the farm.
“Are you almost done feeling sorry for yourself? Because I could use the space.”
I turn and glare at him. “Fuck off, Vivian.”
Instead of yelling, like I expect, he watches. It’s intense. And it reminds me of my dream. Vivian on his knees…
Nope. I spin around to watch the birds. And hide my body’s reaction.
He doesn’t say a word, and the silence is awkward. Is it worse than normal because we’re trying not to fight? Or because of the weird encounter in the hallway? The one I took way too far. God, I should apologize. I clear my throat. “Vivian, I?—”
“No. Stop talking. This weekend has been…a lot. And anything you say will just make it worse.”
“Rude.” Why did I think he’d appreciate an apology? Nothing I’ve ever done has been good enough for Vivian. In school, I tried to help him, and he pushed me away. Over the years, I’ve tried to be nice, and he’s repeatedly told me to fuck off. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Today? This weekend? Or in general?” He gives me a once-over that makes it clear he considers me to be the problem.
“Look, I’ve tried to be nice?—”
“Let’s stick a pin in that for now, m’kay? Because, Jonah, sweetie, you are the least of my problems. Do you want to know why?” He asks the question slowly as if he’s talking to one of the four-year-olds in the other room. “For something to bother me, I have to care about it first.”
My mouth drops open. Because, fuck, that hurts. Even though it shouldn’t. This is our thing. We hate each other. But for some reason, I want it to bother him. I want him to care. And I don’t want to examine why that is. “Why are you still here?” When he starts to say something, I hold up a hand. “Not in this room. In this town. You claim to hate living in Hopeview. You’re an adult, Vivian. Stop complaining and leave. Find a job that pays more than minimum wage. Or better yet, go back to New York. I mean, you have a trust fund for fuck’s sake.”
His body is coiled tight like a snake about to strike. His eyes flash with anger, and it gives me a jolt of satisfaction. He’s definitely bothered now. “If I had access to my trust fund, I wouldn’t be in this stupid town. Believe me, never having to deal with you again would be a dream come true.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked up so bad that you got sent to Nebraska in the first place.”
Vivian steps closer in a deliberate way that feels dangerous. He raises his chin, his nostrils flaring and his dark eyes burning into mine. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Explain it to me.”
“No.” He shoulder-checks me as he walks away.
But I can’t let it go. The anger between us is the only thing keeping me sane. “Vivian. Don’t you dare walk away.”
He ignores me. I follow him through the kitchen and into the living room, so focused on stopping him from leaving that it’s the only thing that matters.
“Stop, Vivian.” I grab his arm to slow him down and jump in front of him. “Tell me?—”
The fury in his face catches me off guard and his frustrated scream reminds me of the yelling I heard from his room. He pushes me with both hands. I stumble over something, and then I’m falling, my heart catching in my throat and my stomach plummeting. I crash into something, taking it down with me, as children scream around me.
“Oh shit,” Vivian says, his eyes wide.
“You killed myDragon Princesscastle,” Maisy cries out as Carolynda rushes over.
