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“Come on, Aria, we’re only waiting for you now!” Mom shouted up the stairs.
“Coming!” I resisted looking at myself in the mirror on the back of my bedroom door as I pulled it open and headed down the stairs where Mom and Sal were waiting to walk over to Uncle Brody and Lola’s.
“What took you so long?” Mom asked, glancing over at me. Her brows rose at the black jeans and flowy camisole I had on. “You’re wearing that? It’s like a hundred degrees outside.”
I shrugged, acting indifferent when I was anything but. She’d always bitched at me about wearing jeans in the summer, and sometimes she won the battle. Like when I’d worn a dress to the last cookout, but I couldn’t do that this time.
A collection of new cuts marred my thighs and the side of my knees, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to cover them enough so no one would see. The last thing I needed was for everyone to find out what I was doing and how often I was doing it. Perfecting my mask was getting easier and easier, and not one person had noticed a crack as of yet. I intended to keep it that way.
“Go and get changed—”
“She’s fine, Jan,” Sal interrupted Mom. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Mom replied and rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face could be seen from a mile away. She was happy, happier than I’d ever seen her, and I was glad. I truly was.
Sal locked the door behind us all, and I kept a couple of paces behind them on the walk to Uncle Brody and Lola’s. Each step I took rubbed against my latest cut—the one I’d made just before leaving my bedroom. They probably thought I’d taken so long deciding on what I was wearing, but the reality was, I’d been too busy preparing myself for today.
In the back of my mind, I knew I’d taken things a step further. I was no longer cutting to find relief, but instead, I was cutting just in case I needed it. I’d gone over the edge, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wasn’t sure whether it was a problem in itself or not, but I wasn’t going to overthink it, not when I was about to head into what felt like the lion’s den.
Cade’s car was parked at the curb, and as we walked past it, I couldn’t help but stare. The last time I’d been sitting in his passenger seat was the morning after we’d had sex. I’d watched him drive, fascinated by each move he made, but also knowing deep down that something was about to go down.
Mom and Sal walked right into the house, and I trailed behind them, hearing the voices and laughter coming from the backyard. Maybe today would be good for me. Maybe having some time with the people who cared the most would bring me back from the brink. I needed to be positive. I needed to believe I could stop cutting at any time. I was only doing it for now. In a year or two, I wouldn’t need to do it so often and—
“What the hell?”
I halted on the spot in the living room, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I couldn’t have heard who I just heard. There was no way in hell she would be here, not after—
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice as sharp as a chef’s knife.
My fingers twitched, my body not wanting to turn and face her, but I had no choice. “I’m here for the cookout,” I croaked out, my voice betraying me as I looked at Miss Simmons.
“No, you’re not. Leave. Now.”
I shook my head and felt the burning on my cheeks. “What—”
“You heard me.” She stepped toward me, and I flinched when her hand lifted, but all she did was point at me. “You don’t belong here.”
“Excuse me?” another voice asked, and my heart hammered in my chest. Footsteps neared us, but I was
too afraid to look to see who it was. “You okay, Tyson?” Ford. It was Ford.
“I…” I stepped back and away from Miss Simmons and toward Ford. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I wasn’t okay. I was so far from okay it wasn’t even funny.
Glancing up at Ford, I saw he had all of his attention on Miss Simmons. He narrowed his eyes, and I flicked my gaze to her to see what she was doing. Her red-painted lips were in a straight line, her hands on her hips, and her anger-filled eyes were focused on me.
We were in a three-way stare-off, but for some reason, I felt safe with Ford, so I stepped even closer to him. “I didn’t know Miss Simmons would be here,” I said to him.
“Of course I am.” Miss Simmons scoffed. “Where else would Cade’s girlfriend be?”
Girlfriend? She was his girlfriend?
“Oh! Aria, you’re finally here,” Lola’s voice broke the stare-off, and she pushed through the middle of us and threw her arm over my shoulder. “Willow, I’d like to introduce you to my second daughter.” Lola paused as I stiffened at the way Miss Simmons’ eyes were narrowed on me. “She’s not technically my daughter, but she may as well be.”
“How…lovely,” Miss Simmons commented. Lola’s brow rose, and she glanced at me, her eyes asking me what was going on, but it was yet another secret I had to keep. “I’ll be heading back out to Cade now, excuse me.” Miss Simmons sauntered away, and I couldn’t help but stare at her as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“I do not like her,” Lola ground out, pulling me closer to her. “She has that—”
“Bitch look?” Ford asked.
