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“It's ok, Rhi,” Xavier calls out. “Go ahead.”
My feet won't move, because they are too scared to leave Xavier out here alone with my father.
“She doesn't listen to you,” my father scoffs. “Go, Rhiannon,” he tells me again.
My stupid, stubborn feet won't go, they just won't, and then I'm picked up and tossed like a rock to skip across the lake into the chilly water. My feet finally do something, kicking and thrashing me up to the surface.
“Fuck,” Xavier says, reaching out for me.
“Is that what you wanted?” my father's cruel voice asks Xavier. “For her to swim with you? Now get back to the house, Rhiannon.”
“Rhi, I’m not kidding, go,” Xavier whispers.
This time I do, so I don't make it worse. I wade out, my watery dress sagging like my pride, and reluctantly pass my father. A shoe wallops me in the back and then another.
“You forgot those,” my father says. “Don’t disobey me again.”
Halfway up the hill, I turn back but can’t make out anything.
Right up to my bedroom I go, slam the door, and cry like a baby until I pass out.
Chapter 4
Xavier
“Throw the ball,” Dean calls to me from across the field near my house.
“Chill.” I throw the ball right into his catcher’s mitt. Catch that, fucker.
I smile as Dean shakes out his hand from the fast pitch of my ball.
The sun blinds me for a moment as he throws the ball back, and I do a little dive to clutch it out of the air. I land facing the DeLaurio mansion.
Black sleek cars line the drive. Dinner party. Shannon DeLaurio, Rhiannon’s mother, loves throwing the extravagant parties to show off her perfect life. Every weekend it's something.
Last weekend was Rhiannon’s birthday party, this weekend a prestigious dinner event.
It must be a big deal, because the security has been beefed up. Most likely politicians.
I turn and throw the ball back with enough force to knock Dean back a few steps when he catches it.
After a few minutes, out of the corner of my eye, I see a small figure emerge. Rhiannon. I haven't seen her since the lake; my punishment.
“Hey,” she says, lifting her hand in a little wave. “I made you something.”
I drop my glove and race over to her.
“Oh, come on. We playin’?” Dean shouts.
“Give me a minute,” I call back as I jog across the grassy field.
Rhiannon is cute today, in a pink sundress and her long hair pulled back in a braid. She clutches a Tupperware container like it’s going to jump out of her hands, and my stomach smiles knowing I’ll get some of her delicious treats. She makes the best sweets.
“I felt bad about my birthday party.” Her brown eyes frown at me with regret as I reach her. “You know, with my dad.”
I wave off her guilt. “Oh please, it’s fine.”
“I made some lemon bars for you.” She bites her bottom lip. “I just wanted to apologize for him.”
