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“Oh.”
“Who are you?” Belle asked, planting her hands on her hips.
“I’m her best friend,” Hope replied, pointing at me.
Belle gasped. “What?” She swung her gaze to me, her eyes wide. “I thought I was your best friend.”
“You are,” I told Belle, crouching down in front of her and lowering my voice, “I just let her think she is.” I winked, causing Belle to grin and puff out her chest.
“Belle.” Lola halted at my bedroom door, pulling in a breath. Her cheeks were red, and I had no doubt it was from trying to keep up with Belle. “I swear, if you run off one more—oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
I chuckled and took Belle’s hand. “It’s only Hope. She came to annoy me with her love life.” I smiled at Lola.
“Hey!” Hope shouted, following me out of my room and down the stairs. We all moved through the living room and into the kitchen. “At least one of us has a love life. Yours exploded in your face—”
“You have a boyfriend?” Lola asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her dark-brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun on the top of her head, and her face was clean of makeup. “Why didn’t I know this?”
“I—”
“Oh, yeah,” Hope cut me off. “She totally had a boyfriend, but then his job—”
“Hope,” I ground out. “I haven’t even introduced you.” I cleared my throat and widened my eyes, trying to silently tell her to stop. “This is Lola and her daughter, Belle. Lola is Mr. Easton’s stepmom, and Belle is his little sister.”
“Who’s Mr. Easton?” Belle asked, her nose scrunching up.
“It’s Cade, sweetheart,” Lola told Belle and pushed off the counter.
Hope’s mouth opened, forming an O as she finally understood what I was saying. “So…did someone say cookies?”
I rolled my eyes as she tried to change the subject. Thank god it worked when Belle told her, “You can be our assistant.”
“I can?” Hope said, her hand landing on her chest. “Why, thank you.”
Lola walked toward me and placed her hand on my arm. “You sure you don’t have any plans? I can take the Cookie Monster home and bake with her.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’m all good. I kind of need the distraction if I’m honest.”
Lola bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze wandering to Belle and then to Hope. “You left so suddenly yesterday, are you okay? I didn’t realize she was that girl’s sister and—”
“I’m fine, really.” I waved her off and tried to slow my heart as it beat faster. I didn’t want to think about yesterday, not now. “I’ll bring Belle back in a few hours.”
Lola frowned, her eyes watching me intently, but I wouldn’t tell her anything else. Not only because I didn’t want her knowing everything, but the fact of the matter was, I didn’t know if I was okay. My cutting had gotten so bad, I could barely go a day without it. It wasn’t a relief anymore, but a ritual I felt the urge to do even while I was surrounded by three people who cared about me.
“Okay,” Lola whispered and then stepped back. She crouched down in front of Belle and said goodbye, but I couldn’t slow my heartbeat. It was pounding in my chest, begging me to do what I hadn’t done yet today.
I’d been determined not to have to do it, but as Lola exited the house and left me alone with Hope and Belle, I knew I’d have to do something to calm myself down. I needed to resist for as long as I possibly could. I had to push everything down and not let it come out, but it was harder than anything I’d done before.
“Re—” My voice cracked, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Ready?” I asked, shaking my head and concentrating on the task at hand.
“Yep!” Belle shouted, and Hope helped her up onto one of the barstools.
My shaking hands reached for the bowls, and then I gathered the ingredients, all the while telling myself everything was okay. All I had to do was concentrate on the task at hand, and then I’d forget all about my blades sitting in my case in my bedroom. I wouldn’t think about the possibility of having to find a new area to cut my skin. All I needed to concentrate on was mixing the ingredients for the cookies.
I let Belle have the mixing spoon as I placed each ingredient into the bowl, and it wasn’t until we were adding the chocolate chips, she asked, “Who taught you to bake cookies, Aria?”
My breath caught in my throat, my skin went red hot and then freezing cold, and I whispered, “My dad.”
“That’s it, sweetie, keep mixing,” Dad’s deep voice said. I stared up at him, grinning, and waiting for him to smile back. When he smiled, I knew we would have a good day. It was when he stared at me as if I wasn’t really there that I worried.
