I look away, breathing through my nostrils. Finally, something I can understand and decode. Pain for my sister, for the screwed-up situation she’s in.
“No one can know that I’m here,” I warn her. “Coach Higgins still thinks that I live with Rhett. I can’t move school districts and stay with the football team.”
She nods. “I would never tell on you, Penn. You can trust me.”
I snort. First of all, I can’t. And second of all, she sounds twelve.
I walk to the door, throwing it open and cocking my head. I can’t see her face right now. There’s too much going on inside my head and chest.
“Out.”
Her steps are slow and cautious as she marches out, stopping at the threshold.
“Look, I just want my brother back. I swear. I’m not here to cause any trouble. Can you try? Please?” She presses her palms together in front of her.
“Are you serious about this?”
“God, Penn.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in my life anymore. Yes.”
I walk over to my desk, open a drawer, and produce a Swiss Army knife. I drag it along my open palm, thumb to little finger, then hold my bloodied hand up in invitation.
She hesitates only for a second before opening her small palm.
“Cut yourself.” I throw her the knife. Via has always been scared shitless of blood and needles and fucking everything. I mean, she was scared of flies. But blood makes her woozy.
She swallows, gawking at my hand, the knife, then my hand again.
“Bleed for me,” I hiss.
Like I bled for you. Every sleepless night. Each excruciating day.
I watch her body rocking with silent sobs as she pierces the skin of her palm and cuts herself open. Our blood is dripping between us on the lush cream carpet of the Followhills’ mansion as we shake on the promise that we’d never betray each other again.
“I’ll take you living here to my grave,” she chokes out.
Later that night, I lie on my bed, staring at the dried-up blood in my palm.
Then my mind travels to the blood on the condom when I pulled out of Daria earlier.
How I made a blood oath with two different girls today.
With two perfect enemies.
One who celebrated a shitty birthday, the other experiencing a glorious rebirth.
One thing’s for sure—one of them will be betrayed.
You’re tearing confessions from my mouth
Reactions from my flesh
Fights from my fists
Blood from my heart
With your eyes alone
Sometimes I want to break the wall I built between us
Let you in
And watch you destroy me
I count the beauty spots on my thigh.
I study all six of them with my forehead pressed against the steering wheel while I wait for Via to come out. I agreed to drive her to school and drop her off at the counselor’s office, then show her around. I think I mostly said yes out of shock. The reality of Mel bringing her here, and Penn knowing about it and keeping it from me, and Dad and Bailey just accepting this whole circus is starting to nibble at my sanity.
There’s no way Penn had no idea, and there is no way Via just appeared out of thin air, showed up at our house, and decided to stick around.
I picked out a cute navy summer dress with a little red bow on the collar, then paired it with my cutest Jimmy Choo sandals. Dutch braided my hair. Sat at the dining table with everyone. Drank OJ. Ignored the bagels. Ignored Mel. Was ignored by Penn, Via, and Bailey, who talked about a new TV show that premieres tonight. Via didn’t know about it because she didn’t have a TV back in Mississippi. Penn sneaked glances my way, but I pretended not to notice, staring hard at the orange liquid in my glass. The only person I talked to was Dad.
“You look beautiful, Dar.”
I mock-toasted him with my glass of juice.
“You know you’re my favorite, yeah?” He leaned forward, chucking my chin.
I knew what he was doing, and I appreciated it. I even believed him.
“I know.”
Dad is the only reason I’m playing nice. After Melody’s hundredth attempt to talk to me, he came into my room. He explained they didn’t tell me earlier because Via didn’t show signs of wanting to stay with us, and they didn’t want to put more strain on my relationship with Mel. I only half-listened up to the point he confessed that for the past couple of weeks, he and Mel had been fighting over whether they should tell me. It’s the first time he admitted to not being in full agreement with my mother.
“I’ll deal with Mel,” he promised softly. “But for now, Via is here and so is Penn. Make your life easier—get along with them.”
“I hate her.” I meant Mel. But let’s admit it—I also referred to Via.
Dad locked his jaw, his throat bobbing with a swallow. Any other day, he’d tell me off and make a big fuss about how Mel lived and breathed for us.
“Stay strong, baby. We’re Followhills. We literally follow hills. Always on top. Show me what you’re made of.”
“I’m made of the green goo of the Hulk.”
“You’re made of fucking gold, Daria. And soul. So much soul.”
And here I am, staring at my thighs and trying not to cry.