Chapter 4
ADAM
I spent most of the night cruising through the town. One day with Chloe and she was already driving me insane. Why didn’t she just stay in the UK where she belonged?
Eventually, I crashed by the river, using the trunk of an old oak tree as a pillow. It was uncomfortable but it beat having to put up with the klutz.
By late morning, I woke up when I felt a squirrel scampering along my body, trying to hide its nuts in my pants. “Shoo.” I waved it off. Even here, I couldn’t be alone.
I ran my fingers through my hair. It was a bit greasy and unkempt.
Needing a wakeup call anyway, I peeled off my clothes and walked into the river. The water was cold – frigid even – but I didn’t care. The sharpness of it woke my senses, making me feel alive.
I took a deep breath and dove under. I opened my eyes, admiring the bed of small, smooth river rocks. I ran my fingers along them before I picked up one at random. When I got back to my feet, I opened my fist, revealing a perfect oval rock. Its whiteness made it look like a bird’s egg. I rolled it on my fingers before I reeled my arm back and chucked it as far as I could.
Plunk!
It sunk into the water.
I did the same, washing the grime from my body. As I did so, Chloe annoyingly popped up in my thoughts. Twice now, I’ve had to save her from falling, and both times I had pulled her into my arms like she belonged there.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I shook my head but I couldn’t push away the feeling of her in my arms. It felt almost right to have her there.
What was I thinking?
She was going to be my stepsister. My annoying stepsister.
Eventually, I walked out of the river. I stood in the sun for a while, allowing myself to air dry before I tossed on my clothes and headed home.
***
When I got home, my father’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Good, maybe they were gone, and I’d have the house to myself.
I parked my bike in the grass, thinking it would be safer there in case Miss Klutz decided to walk into it again.
As I walked past the living room window to get to the front door, I heard the television.
Ugh, please don’t let her be home, I thought to myself.
Of course, when I opened the door, there she was watching TV.
She turned around and looked at me before plopping right back down. There was a pout on her face that really didn’t suit her. A part of me wanted to see her smile, but a bigger part of me wanted to annoy her.
“Whatcha watching?” I asked in an overly friendly tone before I joined her on the couch, sitting a tad too close.
She gave me the side eye, inching away from me. “None of your business,” she retorted.
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” I said as I snagged the remote off the coffee table. Quickly, I put on last night’s recording of Game of Thrones.
“Hey! I was watching the telly!”
“Telly?” I mocked. “What are you, one of the Teletubbies?”
Her face instantly turned bright red at my remark. “No,” she spat, yanking the remote out of my hand and flicking back to Doctor Who.
“You’re playing with fire, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl, you prick.” She held onto the remote so hard that her knuckles were white and she accidentally changed the channel.
“Oh, would you look at that,” I grinned. “The TV must know that the Teletubbies are your favorite show.”
She ground her teeth together, just staring at me like she wanted to gouge my eyes out. “What the hell is your problem anyway? Look, I’m sorry I fell and accidentally knocked over your bike. If you’re so concerned about money, I’ll pay for the repairs.”
“What? You think I need your charity?”
“Well, you definitely need help. You’re clearly out of your mind.”
“Oh? Is that what you think?” I moved closer to her, our faces only inches apart.
“Yes. That’s exactly what I think. You’ve been a complete prick to me and I haven’t even done anything to deserve it.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I didn’t want some girl prancing around my house like she owned the thing? You’re here one day and you already think that you have the right to the TV.”
“I have as much a right to the telly as you do,” she answered stubbornly, holding my gaze.
“We will see about that.” I lunged for her hand but she quickly rolled off the couch and ran to the other side of the coffee table. “Get back here. I’m not going to play games with you.”
“Nor am I.” There was a snide look on her face. “Besides, if something were to happen, who do you think our parents would believe? The brooding guy who can’t grow up, or the perfect little angel?”
I growled in irritation. It was always the good girls who were the worst bitches.
A good girl is just a bad girl who never got caught.
“You know what? I don’t even care. You want to watch your little kid shows, you be my goddamn guest.” Unable to face her for another moment, I stormed out of the room, heading upstairs, making sure I slammed my bedroom door extra loud.
At this rate, I didn’t know how I would survive the summer.