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And why don’t I have this confidence?
Natty giggles. "I heard Mom say that a while ago when she talked to Grandma about Kat and thought it sounded cool. And it fits in this situation, right? Vic is Kat’s sister."
Unsure of what to reply, I agree with her. "Uh, yeah. Right." Still skeptical if she's truly okay, I force myself to dig deeper. "So, you're not upset? You were crying yesterday, and Rhys told me these girls said some awful things to you."
The ten-year-old—going on thirty—girl in front of me sighs. "Sure, I'm upset. They talk about you and Rhys, people look funny at Mom when she drops me off, and all my teachers watch me like a hawk, but none of this is your fault."
My eyes begin to gloss over. But it is, I want to yell. If I had handed Nate over, none of this would've happened. Probably. Maybe. Not to this extent, at least, I tell myself.
"Cal?" Rhys stands in the doorway, and we both turn at my name. "Hey, Nat. How're you doing?" he greets his little sister.
"I’m good," she chirps.
He arches an eyebrow, peering at me, and I shrug. It looks like his advice took root.
"Well, okay. I’m giving you a ride to school today."
"Sweet!" Natty jumps up, grabs her backpack, and waves before disappearing into the hallway. "Bye, Lilly. Don't worry so much."
Uh, that went...well?
The day goes by quickly.After my talk with Natty, I can relax enough to get lost in a romance novel by this fairly new indie author, S.J. Sylvis. I started the book weeks ago and never finished it with my life turning into a roller coaster of disastrous proportions. The main character, Ivy, falls in love with this boy, Dawson, in seventh grade, but of course, it's not that easy. It never is. I sure hope they end up together. I heard that the beginning of the book is based on how the author met her husband, which sucked me in instantly. Plus, her husband is a Marine like Tristen. That makes it a must-read, right? I just got to the part where the main characters meet again after years apart when Rhys walks in, and I place my e-reader down on the comforter.
He plops down next to me on the bed. "You’re reading." His eyes light up.
I haven’t touched a book in what feels like months. "I am." I smile back. "How bad was it today?"
"The usual." Rhys shrugs it off, and I take it as: don’t ask. "D said she’d call you in a bit and that she’ll swing by tomorrow after Oliver heads back to school."
"Sounds good." Lying on my stomach, I cross my arms underneath my head, resting my cheek on my forearms to face Rhys. Den texted yesterday that her brother, Oli, showed up unannounced this weekend, introducing his new girlfriend, Elena, to the family. Everyone was shocked. Oliver Keller has never had a serious relationship in his life. I think he’s been the role model for many of Westbridge High’s male student body over the years with his talent of picking up girls using ten words or less. And for Den to also instantly approve of Elena means this girl is something special. I can’t wait to hear all about her.
"Have you talked to Mom?" Rhys’s question catches me off guard.
"No. Why?" I lift my head to get a better view of him.
"I don’t know. She’s been acting weird since last week," he contemplates.
I mull that over for a moment. Rhys is right. Heather has been withdrawn. After the attack, I would've expected her to be a helicopter parent, no matter how we left it after their revelation about how I lost my memory. But she hasn't. "Do you think it has to do with what they won't tell us?"
"Who the fuck knows? There are too many damn secrets in this family," Rhys grumbles, and it feels like a punch to the gut.
I'm the one keeping the biggest secret from everyone and, in the process, forcing him to do the same.
I drop the topic, and we spend the rest of the afternoon in more or less comfortable silence—him on his phone and me reading. It almost feels...normal. Almost.
"DINNER!"Tristen's voice travels through the house, and I glance at Rhys.
Family dinner?
He shrugs, climbs off the bed, and reaches his hand out toward me. When I don't immediately move, he sighs, pulls me up, and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I'd rather be hiding in my room without food, and he knows it.
As we enter the kitchen, we look more like Rhys having me in a chokehold than a loving embrace. I pretend it's because my back is off-limits to touch and not that he had to literally force-lead me downstairs. Facing the people in this house has become increasingly more difficult over the past week and a half.
Lord, was it just a little over ten days ago that I found out how my memory got erased, Francis Turner came into my life (officially), Rhys almost got charged with statutory rape, Heather and Tristen faced accusations of negligence, I got attacked in the school's showers, went to the hospital again, and Natty became a target to a bunch of hateful middle schoolers?
Silently listing off everything that has happened has me so distracted that I jump at Rhys’s euphoric shout.
"OHHHH...spinach lasagna!" He lets go of me and shoots over to his mother, who is pulling two baking dishes out of the oven.
