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“Yeah. Annabel Grant, right?”
“Right,” I confirm.
“Not much of a family resemblance.”
I’m not sure how to reply to that. It could be considered a dig, since Annabel is undeniably gorgeous. It could be considered a compliment if she’s displayed any of the not-so-niceties around Luke that she likes to show me. Luke’s expression is blank, his tone neutral.
Rather than react, I ask, “Is there a bathroom in this place?”
“Yeah. It’s down the hall, on the right,” Luke answers.
I nod then glance at Elliot. “Go play.”
I leave the living room before he can say anything.Down the hall, on the rightturns out to be vague directions at best. There are multiple halls veering off in all directions. I’m not sure if it’s my lack of formal attire, the fact that Annabel is several inches shorter than me so most of my thighs are on display, the fact that I don’t go to school with them, or who I showed up with, but I attract a decent number of stares. And by a decent number, I mean everyone is looking at me. It doesn’t help with the disorientation. Eventually, I stop wandering around and head upstairs. There has to be a bathroom upstairs, right?
There is, right at the top of the steps, and there’s also a couple exiting it with mussed clothes and messy hair. I give them an awkward smile as I pass them by and enter the empty bathroom, eyeing the small space for any bodily fluids before using the toilet. I’m sure I’ve used a bathroom people have hooked up in before; I just didn’t know it explicitly at the time.
People continue staring when I head back downstairs. I end up in the kitchen, surveying the space for a drink and a friendly face. There’s no sign of Elliot, his friends, or anyone I even recognize from the couple of parties I attended here last summer. I focus on looking busy, heading over to the assortment of alcohol spread out by the fridge. I don’t want to get drunk, but a little something to take the edge off would be nice right about now.
“Nice dress,Auden.”
I turn to see a familiar face, just not a friendly one. Annabel is standing in front of me, leaning against the counter in a slinky minidress. Her blonde friend—Cassie?—is right beside her, looking no happier to see me. I’ve never asked him, but I get the sense she and Elliot share some history. As a general rule, he doesn’t discuss other girls with me, and I don’t discuss other guys with him. I’m not sure if that’s normal or not; I have no other platonic friendship with a guy to compare it to.
“It’s yours. My luggage got lost.”
Annabel takes a sip from the cup she’s holding, her perfectly lined eyes assessing me the whole time. “Maybe take it as a sign you’re not welcome in Canmore.”
I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that this conversation is attracting some attention in the kitchen.Moreattention, I should say. I don’t do well with confrontation in general. When it’s with a family member in front of a lot of strangers? Even worse.
“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but—”
“My problem isyou. You think you’re so special,” Annabel sneers. “Coming back, thinking people want you here—thinkingElliotwants you here.” I don’t move, don’t react. That angers her even more, and I watch ugly emotions flash across her carefully painted face. “I know you’reAmerican, but surely you’re not dumb enough to think you actually mean anything to him. He’ll smile at any girl who gets down on her knees. He’ll forget about you, just like your parents did.”
I shouldn’t react. Logically, I know reacting is exactly what she wants. But I’m sick of Annabel thinking she can walk all over me, can ignore me most of the time and choose now for a conversation. She’s trying to make a scene, so I decide to indulge her.
There’s a plastic cup sitting unattended on the counter. I don’t know what the contents are, but they’re a dark crimson color. I grab it and toss it at her, soaking the sequined dress and the perfect hair and the painted face. The kitchen goes silent as the scent of cranberries hits my nose.
“You bitch!”
“Red is a better color on you than green, Annabel,” I say. Fury blazes in her eyes as I take a step forward. “Stay away from me. Stay away from myboyfriend.”
I go nuclear and blurt out what I know will really piss her off.Shittt.Annabel’s eyes widen.Welp, looks like I’m committing to the fake dating thing.
“You’redatingElliot Reid?”
I nod, because my pride won’t allow me to deny it now. “He dateslotsof girls, though. Right? Probably doesn’t mean a thing.” My voice is mocking. We both know Elliot doesn’t date.
Disbelief flickers across Annabel’s face, still dripping with red liquid. “I don’t believe you.”
I grab an unopened can off the counter. “Then go ask him.” I smile then turn on my heel and walk out of the kitchen, which is still silent. Once I’m in the hallway, I hear conversation start to pick up again.
I exhale, but not with relief. I’m angry at Elliot for planting this stupid fake dating idea in my head, pissed at myself for letting Annabel get under my skin and setting it in motion.
What thehelldid I just do?
The hallway is just as crowded as the kitchen. I maneuver my way between bodies, ignoring the looks I’m getting. I walk out the front door. There’s a group of giggling girls coming up the walk. They ignore me as they pass. I take a left across the lawn, headed toward the lake. Two figures are pressed against a tree by the hammock. I avert my eyes as I walk down to the water.
Josh’s family’s dock is just as nice as I remember. It’s not as long as the town pier, but it juts out at least ten feet. I walk to the end and take a seat. The rough wooden boards scratch the backs of my bare thighs.
