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She knows I’m right, but she still lies by denying it.
“That’s not true.”
After some coaxing, the zipper to the duffel closes, and with a sigh, I turn to Gia. “When I first met Dario, he explicitly told me that he only took me in because he had to, but that he wanted nothing to do with me. He said to stay out of his way until I turned eighteen and was no longer his problem. I wasneverwelcome here, and I would’ve been out once I was a legal adult anyway. It’s just happening a bit earlier now. I never told you because you were already having problems fitting in, and I didn’t want to stress you out.” I close the distance between us and place my hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her concerned eyes. “Dario never liked me, and he never will based purely on the fact that he only sees Mom when he looks at me. There’s nothing I can do to change that.
But he likes—or at least tolerates—you. He seesyouwhen he looks at you, but he and almost everyone else never really seemewhen they look at me. It’s fine, I’m coming to terms with that, but with all of that said, you can stay here and take advantage of it.”
Gia’s eyebrows draw together. “You’re not making me come with you?”
I drop my hold on her arms and go back to my closet to find my backpack. I already know the answer before I ask, “Do you want to come with me?”
She considers it for a moment before asking, “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you leaving town?”
“I don’t think so.”
Gia toes the ground and doesn’t look at me when she asks, “Then would you be mad at me if I stayed? At least until I can take some time to sort out everything that’s happened?”
I drop my backpack on the bed. Gia peers up through her lashes and looks like she regrets asking the question out of guilt alone.
“If I didn’t want you to stay here, I would’ve kept arguing with him about what actually happened.”
Gia doesn’t say anything as I finish gathering my things. I contemplate leaving my laptop because it’s not reallymine, but then I figure Zia Stella was the one who bought it for me, not Dario, and stuff it into my backpack with the charger and my textbooks.
The rain outside is still going strong, and there’s a puddle of water building up on the wooden windowsill.
The white paint there looks like it’s starting to bubble from how often I leave the window open no matter the precipitation, and I don’t bother closing the window now that I’m vacating the room.
“Once Zia Stella figures out what Dad did, she’s going to be pissed. She’ll convince him to take you back,”
Gia asserts, whether because she genuinely believes it or because she’s trying to make herself feel better. I don’t bother repeating that I have no desire to come back.
I thought that being kicked out would be the absolute worst thing that could happen to me in King City. Here I had stability in a good neighborhood with a full kitchen and a room just for me. I had a safe place for me and Gia, one that didn’t require me to cook and clean and be the sole caretaker, one where parties weren’t being thrown all the time and creepy men didn’t try to get into our room. I had a chance at being a real teenager here, but now it’s clear that never would’ve been the case. Nothing I did would’ve been good enough to outweigh Dario’s preconceived perceptions of me. At least now that the worst thing that could’ve happened has actually happened, I no longer have to walk on eggshells wondering when I’ll finally push Dario’s last button and face the consequences, because now I’ve actually done it. I’m free, in a sense, though it doesn’t feel good—it feels heavy.
“Maybe,” I tell her instead.
I pull my backpack on and take a look around the room. It’s pretty, and Zia Stella really did try her best to decorate it and make it feel like home for me. The fluffy baby blue comforter with the various-sized decorative pillows that survived Brandon’s attack, the desk with the empty corkboard where pictures should’ve gone, and the plush baby blue carpet in front of my bed were all personal touches that made me feel comfortable here. But as I look around, something deep inside me knows this is the last time I’ll ever see it.
Gia’s right on my heels as I grab my duffel and phone and head down the stairs.
“Do you think Dad meant all that stuff he said about you . . . or the person who smashed his car . . . being irresponsible and stupid and only caring about themselves?”
Gia asks, a blush spreading across her face as her eyes dart everywhere but on me.
We come to a stop in the front foyer, and I drop my duffel. Dario’s office door is still closed, but we can hear him yelling on the phone at someone named Wilson, who’s apparently a “jack-off” who “isn’t fit to run a paper route, never mind a mechanic shop.”
Gia’s in front of me, looking small and fragile and guilty. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but maybe tough love is what she needs to get her shit together.
“He was being overly mean because he was addressing me, Gia, and he already hates me.” He even admitted it himself, though I force myself not to dwell on that too long in case the part of me keeping me numb fades and I’m left with how that makes me feel. “But that doesn’t change the fact that stealing Dario’s carwasselfish and impulsive and reckless.” I close the space between us and duck down to her eye level, lowering my voice in case Dario overhears. “But because you came clean, you already know that. You tried to do the right thing; Dario just didn’t want to listen. I’m proud of you for being brave and trying to be accountable for your actions, even though I know you were terrified.”
The door to Dario’s study swings open, and Gia and I jump apart. “Yes, Ijusttold you that—” He pauses when he notices us standing there, and Gia hastily wipes her watery eyes with her sleeve.
For a moment, I think Dario might have cooled off enough and changed his mind, that he’s going to tell me to stay. But then I catch sight of his face and realize the haughty indifference mixed with slight disgust he directs at me is as present as ever, and that thought dissipates.
“Hold on, Wilson,” Dario says, pulling the phone away from his face and pinning us with his unfeeling eyes. “Are you really going to use your innocent sister as a pawnagain, Siena? Get her to turn her big brown eyes on me and plead your case to stay? Well, it’s not going to work. Get out of my sight, your ten minutes are up.” He turns to Gia and brings the phone back to his ear. “Gia, go back to your room unless you want to end up like your irresponsible sister here.”
