Stalker - Clarissa Wild Page 0,42

pretend they’re good, for me.

Except my mother has slowly been showing her true colors to me, like today. I’ve seen her behave like a wicked witch before. But she’s never threatened to hurt someone I like before.

It’s like she’s only nice to me when she wants something from me. In this case, it’s talking to some people. I’m sure there’s more to it than she’s letting me know.

She pushes me through the hallway and into the living room, where a couple is sitting on the couch, and, judging from their wrinkles and desperate attempts to hide them, they’re about the same age as my parents. A boy gets up from his seat across the room, smiling like an idiot when he sees me.

“Vanessa,” my mother says as the people stand up to greet me. “Meet the Starr’s.”

The boy is the first to grab my hand and shake it. “Hi, I’m Phillip.”

“Hi,” I say, a little unsure of what to do.

“You’re adorable. Just perfect for my little boy,” his mother says, and I shake her thin, bony hand.

His father pinches my cheek, making me cringe. “What a lovely girl.”

I pull on my mother’s sleeve, and she leans in to listen to my question. “What does she mean with ‘for my little boy?’”

My mother clears her throat. “Let’s go sit with our guests.”

The happy, anxious looks on their faces creep me out, as if they’re expecting some kind of performance from me. “Mother, who are these people?” I whisper as we all walk back to the couch.

“Don’t be rude, Vanessa. These people are important. They support your father’s campaign.”

“Oh …” I say. Not another one.

“Their boy is very nice. He even attends the same school you do.”

“My high school?” I ask, perplexed. “I’ve never seen him there before.”

“Well, he does, so I’m sure you two will be able to find each other now. You’ll grow fond of him, I’m sure.”

“Why? I don’t even know him yet. Hard to tell from here,” I say.

“You’ll get to know him soon enough, my dear. Better than you imagined.” She chuckles a little.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well,” she whispers as we sit down, “he’ll make an excellent husband for you.”

The fake smile plastered on my face cracks through the middle. I swallow, as I see the world and my future as I imagined it fading before my eyes. I wanted to go out and see the world, to kiss different boys and tell my girlfriends what it would be like, to marry the man of my dreams when I was ready, and to become an actress because that’s what I like to do. Those were my dreams.

And now my dreams have shattered in two.

As I stare out the window, listening to the endless chatter between the adults, I see a boy with a magnifying glass outside in the grass not far from our house. His dark eyes bore into mine as he stops, lifts his head, and gazes at me with a look that’s as much broken as mine.

My mother didn’t want him here on my birthday. Not once was I allowed to invite him inside. So I didn’t. I distanced myself from him. I wanted to protect him from her wrath. She’d kill him if she found out how I felt about him. She promised me that I could go out and spend some time with him later. I guess it was all a lie to make me do what she wanted. They all lie … and my mother is the worst of them all.

“C’mon, Vanessa,” my mother suddenly says, and she grabs my hand and pulls me up from the couch.

“Where are we going? I thought we had guests,” I say as she pulls me to another room.

“Yes, but we have to discuss something.”

“Now?”

“Now.” Her command brings chills to my bones. She’s so angry sometimes that it scares me. I can never please her, but now it seems as if she wants to skin me alive.

As she stops near a window, she taps her foot and looks at me as if I’m supposed to say something. I don’t know what she wants, so I continue staring out the window instead. Miles is there, and I love looking at him from afar. Sometimes I wish I could just leave my body where it was and fly out into the world without her ever noticing.

“What are you looking at?” my mother says. “That boy again?”

I nod, still a little absent in my mind.

“Stop. This is

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