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Jackson frowns, gaze darting from me to the space between us. “Where'd you go?”
“Couldn't sleep,” I tell him, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Full disclosure, I may or may not have just caught Lottie tryna sneak a boy in.”
That wakes him up. He groans in annoyance as he rolls onto his back, swiping a hand across his eyes.
“I kicked him out, and I talked to her. One wild child with behavioral issues to another. Or I tried to, at least.”
Jackson props himself up on his elbows. “Did she say something to you? Is that why you're sitting all the way over there?”
And he calls me dramatic;all the way over there, aka a handful of inches away. “She just mentioned someone called Caroline.”
Jackson stiffens.Bad sign. “Caroline’s my ex.”
“Ah.” So that much is true.
“Who I’ve talked to maybe twice since we broke up before college.”
“Ah.”
“Sweetheart, what exactly did Lottie say?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Mind put to rest, I snuggle up beside him.
Jackson sighs, head hitting the pillow with a dull thud. “I'm gonna kill her.”
“Go easy on her.” When Jackson frowns down at me, I add, “She's obviously acting out for a reason. She's probably sad or hurt about something.”
“She doesn't seem sad or hurt.”
“Sometimes it's just easier to be angry.” What’s that phrase? Hurt people hurt people?
Something tells me that’s the epigraph to Lottie’s life.
35
LUNA
Okay,so maybe I like the fucking horse.
He's kind of hard not to like. Like a puppy. A very overgrown puppy. A gentle giant. Despite my adamance that horse-riding is not for me, Jackson somehow managed to coax me back up there. I blame that smile; when he bears those pearly whites at you, it's impossible to say no.
Anyway, I got back up on the horse and it was like Clyde knew how much pain he caused me. The whole trail ride, he ambled gently along like he was making an effort not to jostle me. When his equine friends sped up, he ignored them and continued his slow plod. He kept tossing his head to the side, as though he was glancing over one massive shoulder and checking on me. And when we returned back to the barn and I slid off him, grimacing as my sore feet hit the solid ground and my thighs screamed, Clyde stuck to my side like he was holding me up, his mouth nuzzling my shoulder.
He still scares the ever-loving shit out of me but he's growing on me. I'm a little resentful that it took less than a weekend for him to break me like a little sappy bitch but whatever.
Clyde likes me too, Jackson said so himself. Apparently, the big guy is not easy to win over, what with his history and all. But the beast whinnies something fierce and stomps around in his stall every time I enter the barn, which I took as code for 'I want to murder her' but Jackson claims means the opposite.
He also claims I've found my soulmate in horse form; inscrutable, a little bratty, and needy as hell. He got kicked in the shins for that one. By me, not the horse.
Although, if Clyde is as enamored as Jackson claims, maybe I could arrange that.
Today has been good. Better than yesterday, sibling wise. Grace and Eliza have fully given themselves over to the Luna agenda, and any lingering awkwardness or animosity that may have existed yesterday between us has completely dissipated.
Lux hasn't exactly gone out of her way to be nice to me, but she hasn't purposely been mean either. She's been civil. Tolerant. Just like I asked her to be but I'm still a little disappointed; I didn't expect us to crack open a bottle of wine and braid each other's hair or anything but... I don't know. An actual conversation would've been nice.
Still, it's better than the current situation with Lottie, although that’s not exactly hard. I probably shouldn't have ratted her out but what can I say? Petty bitches bring out the kindred petty bitch in me. And I didn't exactly want to return the trust Jackson's shown in bringing me here by lying to his face and pretending nothing happened.
Jackson didn't explicitly tell me that he had a talk with Lottie, but I can assume as much. It's the only reason I can think of why a teenage girl would be spending her Saturday mucking out stalls, surrounded by shit, while the rest of us have a relatively relaxed day. Maybe I'd have it in me to feel guilty if the little shit's words from last night weren't still floating around my head, or if she didn't keep shooting me murderous looks every time I wander into her line of sight.
