Donna all morning, and I wanted to remind her of our little chat, test if she was taking it seriously.
I walked in, head held high, and smacked my gum loudly. A few people turned in my direction at the sound, but I ignored them. My full focus was on the girl in the perfectly neat uniform, not a blonde hair out of place under her teal headband, the smeared black makeup gone.
Donna was sitting in her usual spot, Harlow on the table with her feet on the chair next to her. The other girls weren’t there yet, but some of the other assholes they hung out with were.
I looked right at her as I passed but kept my expression neutral—doing the whole pointing-at-my-eyes-and-then-her bit felt like overkill. She glanced up, met my gaze, and looked away again as if I didn’t matter. As if I hadn’t brought her to orgasm sixty hours earlier. As if we hadn’t struck a deal in the rain right after.
I had to hand it to her—she had impeccable self-control. If only that trait weren’t driving her to do stupid-ass shit just to feel alive.
Not my problem. Not my problem.
I forced myself to look away, grabbed some gluten-free paleo salad thing and a drink from the food counter, and picked an empty table.
No one flipped my tray. No one even said anything to me.
By the end of the day, it was clear everyone was leaving me alone. Donna had done what she’d promised. As if there was ever any doubt she could accomplish whatever she set that pretty little head to.
I had exactly what I wanted.
Except I no longer had any excuse to speak to a certain infuriating blonde, and as I drove home, the victory felt hollow.
Chapter Nine
Donna
Mom turned sideways in front of the ornate mirror by the front door and smoothed her midnight-blue cocktail dress.
“How do I look?” she asked no one in particular.
“Gorgeous, as always.” My auntie Eleanor smiled at her, then shoved her out of the way with her hip to take up the mirror. “How do I look?”
“Like me. So gorgeous, as always,” Mom shot back.
Mom was older than her sister by two years, but they were as close as Harlow and me. I knew there was a period of time—when I was a young child—that they didn’t speak. It had something to do with my aunt moving away to marry a man Grandmother didn’t approve of and ending up without an inheritance, but every time I tried to dig more up about it, Mom shut me down with some version of “Leave the past in the past.”
I just wanted to know everything. It was interesting: shoot me.
But Mena’s family had moved back to Devilbend just before we all started high school, and our moms reconnected. They looked really similar, and even though they were teasing each other in front of the mirror, they were smiling and laughing.
“You’re both stunning.” Dad came down the stairs, fiddling with a cuff link. “Brad, back me up here or we’ll never leave.”
“Yes. Absolutely ethereal. We’re the luckiest men on earth,” my uncle Brad deadpanned, but I could see his lips twitch as he fought a smile.
While my mom and aunt started smacking and berating him for his attitude, Dad came to a stop next to me.
“Help me out, sweetness. I can never get the right one.” He held out his right wrist, and I fixed the cuff link in place. “Thank you.” He kissed the top of my head. “You girls have fun. And call us if you need anything.”
“I will.”
My parents had both stopped bothering to warn me to be safe and make good choices. It was a given. I was their perfect little girl. I’d make sure everything was fine, and I’d take care of the others.
It was Mena’s birthday, and we were throwing her a party. She’d originally insisted on a small gathering, maybe at the diner where she worked. But when we sat down to write a list of who to invite, she was the only one surprised to see over twenty-five people on the list. The girl just wasn’t used to having that many friends, and I was pretty sure she’d never had a real party to celebrate her birthday.
It didn’t take much to convince her after that, but the guest list had grown . . .
During the afternoon, we’d had a family lunch together and opened presents. Now our parents were graciously leaving for the night. They planned