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Under Her Heel 4
Jace
“Whatareyoudoing, Lilli?” I growl as she climbs into the back of our truck. The three of us are the only soccer players in the house this year, so it makes sense to give her rides to the field.
“Me? She attacked me!” Lilli manages to get a tear out, as she rubs her neck. I will admit her neck is probably a bit sore from the house monitor’s fingers.
“Lilli!” I warn her. I know her crap, having spent our senior year and the last three years cleaning up after her. My cousin by marriage, she has always created drama wherever she goes, and we get the job of cleaning it up.
“What! It’s not my fault. The kefir has it out for me!” she wails.
“Lil, stop the caterwauling. We both know you are pushing her.” Brax leans forward, knocking Lilli’s arm. “Hey! What is her name? She didn’t tell us.”
“Who? Carbie? Does it matter?” Lilli pulls her mirror and some foundation up to cover the finger marks on her throat. “Think I could press charges? That would get the fatty out of our home.”
Gripping the wheel, I count down from ten, then start over. This pseudo-woman could try a saint’s patience. “Lilli! You will do no such thing! You have been pushing her since before she arrived. I know perfectly well you were behind the whole snafu with her room—which by the way I expect you to pay the fines for.”
“Fines?” Lilli’s head whips to look at me.
“Fines. Did you not read the contract the school had each of us sign? Any damage to the House Monitor’s room, she can fine us $30 per hour it takes to clean it and to replace damaged items.” Brax scowls at her. “That’s not coming out of our allowance. We don’t have a rich dad to carry us through life.”
I watch out of the corner of my eye as she crosses her arms and slouches in her seat. “You can’t prove that that was me. I mean it was your dog and your boxes.”
“Lillith Grace McLean!” I growl, thanking God that we are pulling into the lot closest to the sports complex. “Figure it out before the party tonight or I will call Uncle Dermot!”
Without waiting for her response, I jump out of the truck, slamming the door shut. Brax isn’t far behind me, handing me my bag as we make our way to the field. “That bitch! You know somehow she will spin it so that Darragh will end up blaming us.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh, rolling my shoulders. “Should I call Uncle Dermot before she gets the chance?”
“Nah, that has never worked before. Her father and Darragh have never seen her for who she is.” We walk in silence towards the field where the rest of the team is already warming up. “Did that house monitor seem familiar to you?”
Glancing over at my twin, I raise my eye at him, not saying a word. I know exactly what he means, but I want to hear him say it, spell it out for me.
“Tell me you can’t see it. If I didn’t know better…” his voice trails off and I have to rub the back of my head.
“There is no way! What are the chances that she would end up at the same school as us, let alone as the House Monitor for our house?” I try to convince myself until I hear Brax’s next words.
“Those scones! They were just as good as Mrs. Nowak’s.” He sounds as if he is about to have a sconegasm right then and there.
“Anyone could make those! The basic recipe was just from some cookbook, she always had it sittin’ on the counter after making them,” I growl at him. “Come on, Coach will be here any minute.”
As we jog towards the field, I try to remember everything I can about Keava. But six years is a long time and memories fade. All I can remember is the self-hatred I had for myself the last time we saw her.
