AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You are coming with us tonight. We all need a trip to the mall,” Brooklyn says, hugging me in the middle of the lunch room.
“Fine,” I huff. “But I get to tell Lily what to buy.”
Brooklyn releases me from her embrace and smiles at me with her perfect red lips.
“Don’t gloat. I’m going,” I say, play-pushing her away.
She laughs, then skips off toward her class in her black heels that slap against the tiled floor like tap shoes. Part of me is looking forward to a trip to the mall with everyone. It sounds normal, and it’s been months since I’ve done something that felt that way. We promised to help Lily pick out new clothes for her magazine internship, and I do like to be in charge of a makeover. Besides, I can pick up a new outfit for breakfast tomorrow morning with my mom. I’m sure that’s what her message is about. I cradle my phone now that I’m finally alone and read while heading to my fourth hour class.
MOM:We’re booked at the bistro at 8 a.m.Please dress like a lady.
My eyes flutter at both the thought of waking up that early on a Saturday and my mom’s passive aggressive tone in text. She’s never been a fan of my style. My designer tastes don’t match hers, which consist of chunky yellow-gold jewelry and brightly colored pant suits. It doesn’t help that there are nearly forty years between the two of us. I’m often reminded by both of my parents what a “surprise” I was. What they mean by that isaccident. My mom got pregnant with me at thirty-nine, and when she had the C-section delivery, my father was in Silicon Valley inking a tech investment deal—and discovering the seven-year-old son he had from an affair years before. Braden’s my half-brother, and he now has an executive title with the company. My father gave it to him the day he graduated from UCLA with straight Bs and a case of chlamydia from a hooker my dad bought for him for his recent birthday.
Executive Officer Braden Bentley is actually a nice guy, which is why I don’t hate him for being the chosen one. Besides, it’s easier to hold on to the grudge with my father. Especially when the only thing he thinks I’m good for is breakfast dates with the sons of potential business mergers.
I type a response to my mom.
ME:I’ll iron my best pant suit.
She knows I’m kidding, and I’m sure she’s rolling her eyes and calling me any number of names under her breath. But the fact is, I’ll be awake and ready for breakfast tomorrow, and I’ll wear something nice that will impress whomever it is my dad is saddling her with to meet me. She never said it in her previous texts, but I know it won’t be me and her dining alone. It never is. In our family, we don’t do things because we’re close and like each other. We do things because they’re strategic. And I am my father’s favorite chess piece.
* * *
I should be elated for Lily. She and Theo had a major breakthrough. Basically, they finally both quit pretending they weren’t mad for each other. Seeing them kiss was like watching the end of a really great rom-com. And Lily looked great in the clothes we picked out. She left with Theo twenty minutes ago, and I could tell by the way they playfully touched one another as they exited the mall that they were excited to have some alone time.
This is the kind of stuff I live for—real-life romance working out. But something has me stuck. That jealous pang in my gut still cuts into my diaphragm with the same sharpness as before, which means this feeling? It has nothing to do with Lily and James. It’s something more insidious. And I’m not quite certain what that is.
Brooklyn braved going into the sporting goods store with Cameron and James, and I’m supposed to be finding that perfect outfit for breakfast with my mom and whomever I’ll be entertaining for my dad tomorrow morning. I can’t seem to find the energy to shop, though, which for me is definitely a symptom of something being wrong. I know accumulating material things brings about a temporary high, but I have always loved it anyway. The luster over new things is simply gone. Maybe it’s not as exciting to shop when I’m not documenting it for the entire world to see on social media.
Or maybe my melancholy is directly tied to the two girls sitting across the mezzanine from me, their phones poised in such a way that it’s obvious they are capturing video of me. I’m sure they’re streaming that they’ve spotted me alone in a suburban mall. I also bet the comments are spectacularly insulting.
Awe, rich little loner.
This is what it’s like to lose the spotlight.
I never liked her.
I’m so over Morgan Bentley.
Loser.
Bitch.
“You know, this is the second straw you have mangled today.” The sound of James’s voice injects a small dose of adrenaline in my chest.
A brief smile tugs at my lips as I let go of my grip on the straw in my lemonade. I set the Styrofoam cup down and twist in my chair, expecting to see all three of my friends loaded down with shopping bags and ready to head back to Welles. It’s only James, though.
“You should see what these teeth can do to a pen cap,” I joke.
His mouth twists.
“That’s a gross habit, you know.”
She’s so gross.
I shrug and glance down at my now fidgeting hands.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
