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Chapter 32
Astrid
I shouldn’t care, but I do, and that’s what leads me to Charlotte’s door the next day after class. The only decent clothes I own are the ones that Charlotte gave me. Didn’t loan me but actually gave. Cashmere and leather cost real money. Even used. I looked it up on eBay. The suitcase of clothes I arrived with doesn’t compare.
My deadbeat, absentee, worthless father is coming to visit, but I’ll be damned if I look like I need his charity.
“Hey,” she frowns. “What happened to your eye? Did you have that last night?”
“Concealer. I sweated it off,” I reply, walking into her room, “I got into a fight when I went back to my old neighborhood.”
Charlotte sucks in air and immediately grabs a bag from out of her closet. “I hide my best makeup, or Wren would use it all. Makeup doesn’t grow on trees.”
“Who names a kid Wren?” I ask, sitting down at her desk.
“Who names a kid Astrid?” she replies, dumping the bag onto the desk.
I hold up my hand and lean away from her makeup sponge. “Forget it. Don’t touch it,” I tell her, “I have my own stuff.”
Charlotte shrugs her shoulders and tosses her gear into the bottom of her closet behind a pair of old rain boots.
“She won’t look there?” I ask.
“She’s not going to look too hard.” Charlotte watches me for a moment. “What’s up, sis?”
I take a deep breath. “Dad’s coming to visit. He wants to meet me in Dr. Rawlins’ office.”
“Of course Marianne is in the middle of it.” She smiles when my expression questions her. “You can call her by her first name in private. She may try and pretend to be intimidating, but we all know she was a scholarship kid.”
“I thought she had money?” I ask stupidly.
Charlotte walks to her closet and thumbs through her clothes. “She does now. Earned every penny of it through work and marriage.”
“She’s married?” I ask. “I can’t picture it.”
“Bitches need love too.” Charlotte throws her head back and laughs. “She’s currently divorced. You should watch her flirt with the single dads on parents’ weekend. Marianne knows how to level up.” She turns around, holding a dress with a high collar. “You should wear this.”
My face screws up in a frown. “I can’t fake wholesome.”
“You need to learn.” Charlotte tosses the dress at me, and I catch it.
“How’d you know I was going to ask to borrow something?” I ask.
“I didn’t.” She looks through her closet again. “But I was going to suggest it. Our father is a snob. Don’t give him anything to work with.” Her voice trails off as she examines a knit dress in navy. “What time is your meeting?”
“Immediately after school tomorrow.”
“Maybe I’ll swing by and say hi.” Charlotte hands me a gray turtleneck dress. “Wear this with your school blazer and your chunky shoes. If you look too nice, Dad will skip out of there without giving you money.”
“How much should I ask for?” I ask her out of curiosity.
Charlotte flounces down on her bed. “My allowance is four thousand.”
“How often do you get an allowance?”
“Every week.” She leans forward, places her hand under my chin, and closes my gaping mouth. “Oh, all the things I need to teach you. And we have less than a year.”
