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CHAPTER2
Step-Dad Problems~Blue
Three MonthsLater
I leanedonto the top of my suitcase, hoping that the extra pressure would help force the contents into a more compact configuration. The zipper inched around, catching on the edge of a hot pink shirt. I tried to stuff it in and keep zipping but failed to move my finger in time.
“Ow, crap,” I hissed, bringing my finger to my lips.
I was already tense, and the audacity of my suitcase pushed me over the edge into irritation. I threw my weight onto the damn thing and forced the zipper where I wanted it to go. Triumphant, I stood and lifted it from the bed onto the floor, but the weight made my grip unstable and caused the suitcase to slam into my dresser, knocking a picture frame to the floor.
My heart caught in my throat as I went to pick it up. I sighed, and it suddenly became difficult to swallow as tears stung my eyes. I looked at the only photograph with my mom, myself, and my best friend, Ashley. It was taken halfway through seventh grade on the eve of my Mom’s last birthday, right before she went into the hospital for the last time. Ashley and I had gotten headscarves just like Mom’s as a surprise for her birthday, and we put them on just before the picture was taken, so the immortalization of the moment had all three of us laughing and crying at the same time.
I didn’t know how I would have survived the rest of that year if Ashley and I hadn’t become friends. Even when her dad got divorced and they moved away to California just when we were supposed to start at Stonebridge High together, our friendship remained the only true constant in my life. She was my life vest, my anchor, my only true family. I still wasn’t sure how I made it through the last decade without my mom, let alone the past two years. It was a tough pill to swallow, coming to terms that I was the only surviving person in the photo.
Actually, that’s not true. I did know. It was Hunter, Ashley’s dad. He and my stepdad Aston had worked out a plan where I could spend summers and holidays in Del Mar with Ashley. Aston could have cared less about spending time with me, and escaping the cold, empty house, where he provided food, shelter, and paid bills, to the beaches of SoCal was like finding my way home. Even when Hunter and I were at odds, which seemed to be all the time, he never turned me away. Maybe Ashley needed me as much as I needed her, and he knew it.
I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around my room at the pastel pink painted walls with air plants hanging from the little nails. I had put away the numerous photos of Ashley and I, keeping just this one. Fearing the accusations I knew I would see in Ashley’s eyes, it usually faced the wall.
“When are you leaving?”
A stiff knock at my door followed the words, and I turned to meet Aston’s gaze. His stoic, emotionless expression fit right in with the grey dress shirt and black slacks he was wearing. He stood in the doorway like a statue. Eyes cold and glued on me.
“Soon,” I told him, looking away from the obnoxious flex of his chest. “I’ll be out of your hair within the next half hour.”
“Good, because my car will be here soon,” he said, his voice lower than usual, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up just a bit.
“Okay,” I said, pulling out my phone. I opened the rideshare app connected to his card and set the pickup location. “There,” I said. “A car will be here in about twenty minutes or so.”
He raised a brow and clenched down on his back molars, creating that all too familiar tic.
“Cancel the ride. You’re riding with me.”
My head snapped up, surprise causing my mouth to drop open. I watched him for a minute, trying to figure out why he was doing this. Aston did a lot of things for me, but one thing he never did was offer me a ride. Ever. If it wasn’t for the rideshare apps and his credit card, I would be forced to walk everywhere or take the bus. He prided himself on only providing the necessities, which included food, water, shelter, and my education. As long as I took care of myself, he paid the bills. That was our unspoken arrangement.
“Sure.” I shrugged and canceled my ride, turning my back on Aston to finish packing my backpack for the flight.
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the backseat of a Town car next to him. He addressed the driver by name and closed the partition dividing the front seat from the back. I could never understand why he used a car service. He owned a lucrative tech firm in town and had less than a ten-minute commute. I believed he liked to make an impression by showing up like he worked in Silicon Valley and not Stonebridge.
The buzzing of my phone broke the veil of awkward silence that consumed us. I glanced down at it, quickly reading the gate number then tucked it away in my backpack.
“So,” Aston said. “You took a break from visiting California for a while, and now you’re headed back. How long are you planning to keep up these little trips?”
He was staring at my bag where I’d put my phone with narrowed eyes. His eyes drifted slowly to mine, and I could have sworn they lingered on the “V” of my t-shirt in a way that made me want to pull on a sweatshirt. Aston had never really felt like my dad, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he didn’t see me as a daughter, either.
“Why do you care all of a sudden? Do I need to be concerned about bills?”
“Hardly,” he said, moving so close that his leg brushed mine. “I want you focused on school and—”
I turned from him defiantly, returning my gaze to the window, only for his finger to rest upon my chin and force my eyes in his direction.
“And I want you focused on us. I didn’t spend the last ten years throwing money toward your private school education, so you can call it quits after attending a two-year college. Do better, Blue,” he said before dropping his hand back down to his lap.
My words became a jumbled mess as I tried to formulate a sentence. Us? The word was so damn foreign to me that I couldn’t believe I was hearing him correctly. This was from the man who would go days without speaking to me unless it was to ask if I swiped his card or if I had all my books for school. When it came to Aston Wolfe, there was no “us,” only him.
I rolled my eyes but felt tears stinging them as frustration set in. I just graduated with my two-year Associate’s from Stonebridge Community College two months ago, and the whole thing was hell. The only thing on my mind these past two years was the ghost of Ashley’s death and Hunter. I could have cared less about picking a major for a four-year college.
Aston slid closer, our thighs now pressed together, but he remained thankfully silent for the rest of the drive. When we finally pulled into the lane for departing flights, I muttered a barely audible “bye” before launching out of the car. I made it far enough that the automatic doors slid open before a firm hand snaked around my wrist.
