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“Does anyone have suggestions about fun day this week?” mom asked, then looked at Clem and explained. “Every Sunday we all do something together.”
“Shocker,” Clem whispered sarcastically and looked like she wished she choked to death with the orange juice she was drinking. I saw it on her face, and I chuckled inside. I just couldn’t resist it. She was there. Sulking. It was a no-brainer. I had to make it even worse for her.
“I think we should let our guest come up with something.”
I was aware I was breaking my word. I basically just stopped pretending she didn’t exist. But it wasn’t a big deal. It was obvious we couldn’t avoid speaking to each other any longer. We spent too much time in the same room on a daily basis. I wasn’t at all feeling bad that I was the first to break the silence between us. The way I saw it, I controlled the narrative, she was complying.
Mom and dad shared a look, but they didn’t say a word. I continued.
“We have to make her feel welcomed. A part of this household. Your words, mom,” I winked at my mother provoking her to contradict herself. She didn’t. “She spent her first weekend at Hannah Spencer’s home, but if she is really going to be a part of our family, she should be participating in family events.”
Clementine slowly put her glass on the table without making eye contact with anyone in the room.
“No.”
Her voice was firm, and she sounded bored. She looked disengaged, but I knew she was squirming inside. I just needed to see it on the outside. Break her spirit and shit.
“I’m sure you’ll plan something nice, nemesis.”
Her whole face screamed contempt and I was on the receiving end. That didn’t stop me though. I kept looking straight to her face, even though she avoided my gaze. I wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. See her deepest layer of insecurities displayed for me to poke and play with it. She deserved it.
“We should let Clem decide if she wants to join us, and not make her do it,” my father said calmly, but his eyes sent me a warning.Don’t be a dick.
I ignored the warning.
“Hey, I’m just following mom’s rules. If I have to treat her like family, she might as well act like it.”
I was also not very pleased with the double standard. My mother obviously twisted her arm about breakfast. Why couldn’t I do the same with the fun day?
Clementine’s fingers twitched, and she immediately hid her hand under the table. She lifted her gaze and looked at me like I was a cow shit on her favorite shoe. But there was something else too.
Mischief.
She knew what I was doing, and she was up for the challenge. I felt strangely excited.
One of the most maddening things of high school girls? They talked all the fucking time. I hated listening to their constant blabbing. But for some masochistic reason, I wanted to hear Clementine’s words.
“When was the last timeyouplanned something?” she cocked her head sideways.
I opened my mouth to answer with a lie, but Troy made her case and ratted me out.
“He never does.”
A slow, smug smile spread on her face. Mine never faltered, even though the little traitor sort of killed my whole act with one sentence.
I was aware my parents, especially my mother, acted like they were deaf and mute. It rang a bell in my head. A bell I decided to analyze later, since I was enjoying Clementine’s attention. It was probably nostalgia. She hadn’t changed that much. She was still a hurricane on the inside, but this time I had no intensions to try to tame her. Quite the opposite. I intended to release the storm and let her ruin her own life. While I watched from the front row.
“Fine,” Clementine leaned forward. “I’ll do it. But next week it’s your turn,” she didn’t even let me answer, like I was supposed to do it, just because she said so. “Anything goes?” she asked mom.
“Yes,” mom nodded, but her voice sounded uncertain. “Well, in reasonable limits of course.”
Oh, mom, you finally got it. The girl is a nutcase.
Upon closer inspection I noticed my mother looked like she was about to do a happy dance and cry her eyes out at the same time. That woman was a serious case of a softy. I suspected she would project her unfulfilled dreams of having a daughter on Clementine, but crying over this stupid shit was too much even for Elizabeth Cole.
We finished our breakfast in silence. Ten minutes later dad left for work and mom was getting ready to drive Troy to school. She was repeating the same Q&A every morning since Clementine came here.
“I really don’t understand why you need to go with two separate cars. You’re going to the same place.”
