Chapter 12

Delilah

“Wait up,” I hear from behind me.

I stop, turn around, and face Gigi who’s jogging toward her sister and me.

“No,” Ivy grumbles as her twin bounces up with a smile on her face.

“What’s up?” I ask even though I know why she’s standing here.

“I’m going with you,” she beams. “Samson insisted that I come and make sure you don’t end up with some stupid birthday theme.”

I bite the tip of my tongue until a faint coppery taste fills my mouth.

“We’re not going to pick anything stupid,” Ivy defends with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Of course not, especially with me tagging along.”

Gigi slides past us and climbs into the front seat of the SUV. Pop raises his eyebrow at me as he walks up with the keys swirling around his finger.

“Leave it alone,” I mutter to him and climb into the back with Ivy.

The trip to the store is filled with Gigi chattering about what supplies we’ll need as she plans my birthday party. My anger increases, my mood teetering on not even wanting to have a party anymore.

“You have to stand up to her,” Ivy mutters as we watch Gigi’s animated arms twirl around.

“Yeah?” I turn my gaze toward her. “You first.”

She frowns but doesn’t say another word.

“Exactly,” I mutter.

I keep my eyes straight ahead, calming breaths passing through my lips as we pull into the parking lot at the party store. Pop meets my eyes in the rearview mirror before he opens his door. Giving him a slight nod, I let him once again take the reins, and I hate myself for it.

“We’ll need everything that glitters, but nothing too girly.” Gigi takes a breath then continues. “But nothing pink or purple. If you want turquoise, show it to me first before you put it in the cart.”

“Gigi,” Pop begins, looking over at her. “Feel free to dictate how your party will be in a couple of months, but you’re not running this show.”

Gigi huffs, disappointment clear on her face. “But Samson—”

Pop holds his hand up. “If Samson cared about decorations he should’ve come with us.”

She turns around, the pink on her cheeks betraying her embarrassment. She isn’t reeled in very often, but when she is things get better for a while.

Gigi isn’t a mean person on purpose. She just has tunnel vision and is so self-involved that she doesn’t pay much attention to others’ feelings. Inconsiderate would be the perfect word to describe her.

“Thanks, Pop,” I whisper as I walk past my rescuer.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he says with a smacking kiss on my forehead.

It’s a warning of sorts. He tells me all the time to stand up for myself, to not let her take control over the things that are mine. He’s reiterated more than once, that doing it now will give me the courage and strength to do the same when I’m on my own in the world and faced with the same type of people.

I hate confrontation, but I know Gigi’s lack of consideration for others is coming to a head, and I won’t be able to avoid the altercation that’s been building for years for much longer.

“What are you thinking,” Ivy asks as she loops her arm through mine.

She ignores her sister as Gigi grabs a shopping cart. There’s less pep in her step, and her shoulders are hunched noticeably. Ivy, used to being treated poorly by her twin, gets almost jubilant when Gigi is chastened. I, on the other hand, hate seeing anyone upset, even if her own actions brought on the castigation in the first place.

“Dark,” I tell Ivy, pulling my eyes away from her sister. “Black lights and neon.”

A smile spreads across Ivy’s pretty face. “I think that’s a perfect idea.”

Pop trails along behind us as we make our way around the store. He points out several things that would go great with the theme we’re working on, and I’m grateful for his input. Unlike Dad, he loves to shop and get involved in things like this.

“Glow sticks?” he asks holding up a huge package of multicolored sticks.

“Of course,” Ivy says and takes it from his hands. She grabs a second package and adds it to the pile growing in the cart. “Did you see any necklaces or bracelets?”

“Down the other aisle,” he answers and leaves to go find them.

“What the hell is he staring at?” Gigi mutters, speaking for the first time since we arrived.

I look in the direction of her eyes and see Clay, a guy I shared homeroom with last year. He grins when we make eye contact, and I feel my lips turning up in a smile in return. Gigi sighs when he begins to make his way over to us.

“Such a creeper,” Gigi says under her breath.

“Be nice,” I tell her. I may allow her to be a certain way with me, but I won’t sit idle while she’s mean to others.

“Hey,” Clay says as he gets within a few feet of us. “How’s your summer been?”

“Good,” I answer. “Yours?”

“Hot, boring,” he responds as his eyes dart to the shopping cart. “Getting ready for your birthday party?”

“Of course. Did you get your invite?” Summer birthdays are tough, but Samson uses social media to let everyone know the details of it each year.

“I did.” The smile never leaves his lips.

The silence between us grows awkward as I fully take him in. He’s no longer the skinny boy from class. His shoulders have gotten wider. His once thin, wiry arms have filled out, stretching the fabric of his t-shirt. It’s almost as if he’s gone from boy to man in a matter of months.

Gigi must have noticed his transition as well because she takes a step closer, admiration of his body clear in her eyes.

“Hey, Clay,” she all but purrs.

“Hey,” he says with quick acknowledgment before his eyes find mine again. “Wanna trade?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, confused.

“I go to your party, you come to mine?”

I clear my throat, unsure of what to say. I’ve always found Clay handsome, but chasing boys or even having the nerve to speak to one I find attractive has never been my strong suit. Now that he looks different, more like the type of guy I’d never engage with in fear of rejection and less like the nerdy boy who would’ve been a perfect match to my equally awkward personality, I’m not sure how to act.

“When’s your party?” Gigi asks, sliding even closer to Clay’s elbow. “I think one last awesome party is just what I need.”

His eyes dart to her, and as if realizing for the first time that Gigi is flirting with him, a slow, seductive smile slides across his face. All of his attention is directed at her. I hear Ivy huff as we watch her sister trail her finger over Clay’s muscled arm.

“Good to see you, Clay.” He doesn’t even acknowledge me as Ivy and I turn away to continue our shopping.

“Well that didn’t take her long,” Ivy hisses when we’re two aisles over.

“Never does.” I grab a package of green, glow-in-the-dark mustaches. “What do you think about a photo booth with all kinds of props?”

I turn to find Ivy grinning and holding a package of lime green and hot pink face masks. “It’s like you’re in my brain.”

“Here are the bracelets and necklaces,” Pop says emptying his arms into the cart. “I also grabbed plates, cups, straws, and these little bags for party favors.”

I frown and Ivy giggles at Pop’s cluelessness. “I think we’re past party bags.”

“What?” He looks at the package pinched between his fingers. “You’re never too old for party favors.”

“Never,” Gigi says bounding up, back to her old self after having been doted on by a boy. “We can put the jello shots in them.”

“Like hell,” Pop says looking at the package of small, lidded containers she’s waving in her hand. He tosses the neon colored package back on the shelf. “Okay. No party favors.”

Gigi frowns when he snatches the package out of her hand and tosses it next to his discarded item on the shelf.

“Food shopping next?” Ivy asks as we make our way to the front of the store to check out.

“Catered,” Pop answers. “Delilah didn’t want to have to worry about cooking.”

“Awesome,” Ivy says with genuine happiness.

“Can we start the car?” Gigi holds her hands out for the keys.

Pop’s eyes go from Gigi to Ivy. Unspoken conversation flows between them. With a small nod of her head, Pop hands over the keys. Ivy follows her twin out of the store, knowing he would never let Gigi go alone. It’s not only a safety measure, but we can never guarantee Gigi won’t get a wild hair and take off. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe her.

“D,” Pop begins as we wait for the lady in front of us to load her luau items on the counter.

“Please,” I beg, holding my hand up to stop him. “I know what you’re going to say, but you don’t see her like I do.”

“Enlighten me,” he says, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s all a front for her. I honestly think Gigi is more insecure than any of us.”

“I can agree with that,” he says pushing the cart to the counter as the luau lady rolls her cart away. “But you shouldn’t allow her to treat you poorly.”

I hand him several more items from the cart so the cashier can ring them up. “I seriously don’t even think she realizes she’s being rude.”

“Even still,” he says. “You have to stand up for yourself, especially with the people you’re closest to. Feeling taken advantage of and disrespected by the ones we love does more damage than when it happens with strangers.”

I nod, knowing he’s right but also unsure of how to proceed from here.

Half an hour later, we’re pulling up to the front of the clubhouse. There’s no sense in carting our purchases to the house, so we opt to just store them in the front entry closet until Saturday morning. Ivy is carrying an armload, and surprisingly Gigi has offered to help as well, when Dad and Lawson pull in, parking beside us.

Lawson, never making eye contact or offering to help with our bags storms past, taking the sidewalk toward our house rather than cutting through the clubhouse.

“What’s his deal?” I mutter, startled to the point of jumping when Dad’s hand lands on my shoulder.

“He’s had a rough life,” Dad whispers in my ear. “Just treat him with kindness.”

I watch his back as he disappears around the corner, but my thoughts stay with him as we get all of the purchases stowed away in the closet.