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“Archie—”
“I agree with Taylor,” he says suddenly, looking at us with wild eyes. “He doesn’t seem like he’s Celine’s type.”
Mom glares at the both of us. “Honestly, I can’t believe the two of you. I thought I made myself perfectly clear: this is not our call; it’s Celine’s. She’s an adult and we need to trust that she knows what she’s doing. Now, I want both of you to get out there and mingle. Smile, make friends, and most important of all, don’t embarrass Celine!”
Sometimes, I forget that Mom has a fierce side to her. The cancer keeps it under lock and key more often than not. But when it breaks out, it’s best to do as she says.
Dad nods in defeat. I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m off to mingle and make merry.”
“Don’t say anything to Celine,” Mom warns.
That’s a promise I’m more than willing to make. But right now, all I want is a little quiet. Somewhere I can freak the hell out without anyone watching me.
I retreat into the house and find a quiet nook to hide out in. I would have preferred a bathroom, but I’m not about to snoop all over the house until I find one. I just need a second to breathe and put my game face on.
I sink to a seat on a chair drenched in sunlight. Closing my eyes, I let the beam warm my face and I let out a long, rattling sigh.
This can’t be real. There’s just no way this can possibly be real. Fate or God or whoever’s at the wheel isn’t that cruel. Not unless I racked up a bunch of bad karma by, like, clubbing baby seals for a living in a former life.
And I guess that’s possible, but it still feels cruel and unusual. I’m pregnant—by a stranger—who it turns out is actually not a stranger, but rather my sister’s fiancé—the sister who already thinks I’m a backstabbing bitch, and not without good reason.
Confirmed: God hates me.
And as if to double down on that point, a voice shatters whatever semblance of calm I’ve managed to find here in my hiding place.
“Tay?”
I glance up and see Bradley Martingale standing at the entrance of the corridor, decked out in a blue suit and an open collar shirt. He’s taken pains to look good today, and I gotta hand it to him: he does look good.
I mean, not Ilarion-good. But if we start judging all men by that standard, no one will ever procreate again.
I force a smile and give him a weird, half-assed nod. “Bradley. It’s been a while.”
“I’ll say. Used to be that I couldn’t take two steps into Crawley Library without running into you.”
“Pretty sure that’s what happens when you stalk someone.”
He smirks. “I forgot what a smart little mouth you have. You know, that’s half your charm.”
I frown, really wishing this conversation would end soon. “Only half?” I ask. “I was hoping for three-fourths at least.”
He takes three quick little steps towards me and suddenly, I find myself backed up against the corridor wall. He’s actually got his hand up by my face, and he’s leaning in with his whole body.
“You look really sexy in that dress.”
Oh,hellno.
Bradley and I were classmates—are, I guess, although ever since those two blue lines appeared in my life, I’m not sure I’ll ever make it back to school. A friend of mine brought him to a study group one day, and he’s stuck to me like white on rice ever since.
It was kinda sweet, at first. Then it was neutral. Then it spoiled rotten and it hasn’t looked back. He’d show up everywhere I went: library, gym—you name it, he was there. He’d corner me at parties and he had a knack for finding the darkest, quietest, most isolated spot in the whole place to do it.
You looked beautiful in class today,he’d murmur with beer on his breath.The guys at this school don’t deserve a girl like you.
When I finally and firmly told him to leave me alone, I thought that’d be the end of it. Then he showed up at a lunch with my sister.Look who I ran into!he said brightly.Such a lucky coincidence.
I shudder. The memories alone are enough to make my skin crawl. The man himself does that and then some.
I duck out from underneath Bradley’s arm. “Thanks. I really should be getting back to the party.”
