Page 37 of Bloom

Deciding the last thing I need is to spend the rest of the day mopping up blood, I scramble to my feet, casually leaning against the counter like it’s not at all weird that I waited a solid minute before announcing my presence. “I think it’s time to go, Mark.”

Two pissed gazes swing my way.

“Well.” I bristle as Mark snickers. “Look who speaks.”

Lux’s fingers twitch where they’re balled into fists at her sides. “Do I need to say it a fourth time, asshole?”

“You kiss my son with that mouth?”

My furious friend lunges forward a step and, quick as a flash, I round the counter, hip-checking her aside on my way to wrench the front door open. “Bye, Mark.”

Luckily for everyone—and ironic, too, considering the crap he just gave me—Mark’s never had much of a backbone. He did, after all, break up with Lux via an angry phone call from hismother. So, it’s unsurprising when it doesn’t take much to send him sloping back outside.

The click of me twisting the lock into place precedes Lux’s almighty groan. “Summer break,” she spits, explaining in two words why Mark is back in town instead of bothering the inhabitants of wherever he lives now. “Don’t you just love it?”

Flipping the sign on the door to the ‘closed’ side, I lead my friend upstairs. “Preaching to the choir.” The summer months and its inevitable influx of everyone I went to high school with coming home from college has long reigned supreme as my least favorite time of year.

Flopping belly-first onto my bed, Lux screams into my pillow. “He wants a paternity test.”

Perching beside her, I hesitate before cautiously saying, “Maybe it would make things easier.”

“I doubt that.” Lux rolls onto her side, blowing her hair out of her face as she props herself up on her elbows. “This is why I don’t leave the ranch.”

Again, we’re on the same page. If I could plant myself on a serene, secluded patch of Serenity and never leave, I would. “What’re you doing here, anyway? Where’s the boy?”

“Jackson’s got him. I needed a break.” She sighs a tortured noise. “Lottie.”

“Ah.” The one word explanation is plenty.

Stretching towards me, Lux pokes my thigh. “Why didn’t you tell me she snuck out last night?”

Besides the fact I technically did too? “She already hates me. Forget stitches—I think I would get an early grave for snitching on her.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she hates me too.”

“I don’t think she does.” The perk of being ignored all the time; observing from the sidelines is a whole lot easier. I see the way Lottie looks at her big sister when she thinks no one is looking. “I think she might think you hate her, though.”

“Why do you say that?”

I shrug, only half kidding when I say, “Call it like recognizing like.”

“Shut up.” Another poke. “I neverhatedyou.”

I pull a face.

“I didn’t.” Shuffling upright, Lux tucks her legs beneath her. “You really thought I hated you?”

I drop my gaze to my lap. “Didn’t you?”

“No.” The mattress dips as Lux shifts to sit beside me, her thigh brushing mine. “It was never about you, okay? It was about our parents and our grandparents and being mad at the world. Us Jacksons, we have severe attachment issues. A genetic fear of abandonment, too. And Oscar… he’s always been more than our brother. A lot of the time, he feels more like our parent, especially for Eliza and the twins, and you know what the fairytales say. You’re supposed to hate the stepmother.”

Well, crap. I guess I never thought of it like that—I guess after years of being told everything is my fault, it was instinct to assume the blame.

“We were kids,” Lux continues softly. “We were assholes. I’m sorry, and I know Grace and Eliza are too. Give Lottie another year or two to become human again and I bet she will be.”

I smile briefly before sobering. “I’m sorry too. For making things more difficult.”

“All is forgiven.” Lux nudges her shoulder against mine, allowing all of five seconds of silence before breaking it. “So. Tell me the truth.”

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