Page 77 of Toxic Kiss

“That’s not what happened,” Haven exclaims. “I swear to you, Dad, that’s not the truth.” I can hear the tremor in Haven’s voice now. Angry. Embarrassed.

Good.

“Cyrus is not the problem here,” Mom continues, her tone climbing. “You are.”

A chair scrapes across the floor inside the room.

“He was the one with the vape!” Haven shouts, and my lip curls.

Smack.

“Oww,” Haven cries out.

“Anita! That is enough. Don’t you dare hit my daughter ever again, or you will find yourself out of this house and my life.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

“Of course, you say that. Of course, you take her side. She is a menace, and you don’t see it. She is trying to destroy Cyrus’s future. For once, take my side because she is getting worse.”

Footsteps move around inside, and I wish that I could see what’s happening.

“You are nothing but trouble,” Mom says, her voice rising. “Ever since I walked into this house, you’ve been pushing boundaries. Been rude. Trying to undermine me. Evil to Cyrus. It has to stop.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Haven cries, breaking.

Something in my stomach twists again. I shove it down.

“Auguste! Do something about this right now.”

My fingers tighten around the edge of the door frame. I can picture Haven’s face right now. Red. Furious. Eyes bright with tears that she refuses to let fall.

“She’s lying,” Haven says again, quieter this time. “Dad, I don’t smoke, you know that. You have to believe me.”

“She’s grounded,” my mother says immediately before Auguste can respond. “Two weeks. No phone. No friends. No Patrick coming over either. I’m done tolerating this behavior.”

Silence hangs in the air, then Auguste sighs. It’s a long, tired sound.

“Haven. Where did the vape come from if it’s not yours?”

“You don’t believe me,” she asks, her voice sounding so lost.

“I didn’t say that, just answer the question.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Haven.”

“Whatever. You want me to be the bad guy…fine. I’ll take the two weeks, but not because I deserve it. Because it’s obvious you’d rather believe her than get into another argument and no matter what I say, she is never going to believe me.”

Her voice is small now. Defeated. My mother seems to have won this round. I lean against the wall outside the office door for a minute and just stare. There is a family portrait that we took on our first Christmas here, hanging directly across from me. Haven is smiling from ear to ear. How can she look so happy? How dare her look happy.

A grin spreads slowly across my face, but I wipe it away. She’s not smiling now. I march away satisfied with myself.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Having Haven around and reading her diary is bringing up all these old memories that I want to forget.

“Dr. Stevens seems nice,” Mother says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Sure, I guess.”