Empire High Betrayal (Empire High #3) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,110

treat me this way? I was still crying, but they were angry tears now. And I didn’t bother to wipe them away. “You’re a hypocrite, Matt. You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

I hung up the phone and let myself cry. Because I was pretty sure yelling at him instead of apologizing was something that Isabella would have done too. I’m not like her. I’m not. God, maybe I am.

There was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Princess, can I come in?” My dad walked in. He gave me a small smile. “How are you feeling this morning?”

I felt my bottom lip start to tremble. “I messed everything up, Dad.”

He rushed over and put his arms around me. “Nonsense. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He was one of the only ones that believed me when I said I didn’t know about the whole prank. It was just supposed to be a stupid fake poop prank. I hadn’t meant to do any structural damage to the apartment. Or ruin Thanksgiving.

“Everyone hates me,” I sobbed into his chest.

“I don’t hate you.” He leaned back so he could look down at me. “You’re an angel, Brooklyn.” He cupped my face in his hands. “My angel.”

That was kind of him to say. But it wasn’t true. I was a freaking demon.

“Everything is going to be fine. I promise,” he said.

I shook my head. “How is everything going to be fine? I upset everyone in my life except for you.” What if Matt never spoke to me again? What if Kennedy didn’t? I was going to be all alone again. I couldn’t start over again with no one. I couldn’t do it. Despite what Matt said, I wasn’t strong. And who knew if he’d even meant that. Because he’d said it himself…he and I were both liars.

“Do you know what you need?” my dad asked. “A spa weekend. I’ll call some people in. That’s what Isabella always does when she’s upset.”

I’m not Isabella. God, or am I?

“Or maybe something else?” he said with a smile. “Name it, and we can do it.”

“You said you’d teach me how to play golf. Could we do that?” I’d never taken him up on his offer to go to his country club. And a little father daughter time might help lift my spirits.

“Well, you won’t be able to this weekend. But soon, of course.”

“I can do it this weekend. I’m pretty sure I’m uninvited to Friendsgiving. And I could really use the distraction. I’m just going to be sitting around the house bored.”

He lowered his eyebrows, as if my response confused him. “You’ll be resting, yes. That’s just what you need.” He patted my knee.

I wasn’t sure if that was true. I didn’t want to rest and get pampered. I just wanted Matt back. “I really didn’t mean for it to go that far last night,” I said.

“I know, princess. But it was good to see a little fire in you.” He smiled at me.

“You’re happy that I made Isabella and all that pudding fall through the ceiling?”

He laughed. “Between you and me? I’m glad you stood up for yourself.”

At least he understood. And he didn’t look at me any differently. I disgusted everyone else. But my dad thought I was an angel. Maybe that was the whole problem. Maybe his views were skewed because he was used to living with Mrs. Pruitt and Isabella. Anyone was better than them.

But better than them wasn’t good enough. I looked down at the ring on my finger. I was a Pruitt. Matt didn’t want me to be who I was. His parents didn’t want me to be who I was. But if I wasn’t me, then who the hell else was I supposed to be? I thought I was finally fitting in to my new world.

“I don’t want to become Isabella,” I said and sniffled.

“Brooklyn, you are your mother’s daughter. You’re…you. You can’t possibly be someone else. Who’s filling your mind with things like that? Matthew?”

I pressed my lips together.

“You deserve someone who believes in you enough to know that you’re special. You are. I’ve never met anyone so caring and generous.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d done yesterday was in any way caring or generous. I had no idea why he’d chosen those two words to describe me. And I didn’t tell my dad that Matt stopped believing in me because I’d given him a reason to. Because I was a liar. “Thanks, Dad.”

He patted my knee. “Now, I’d love to keep chatting, but it’s just