Page 21 of Love is Angry

The study door opens, and Mom comes in. She has an immediately noticeable presence—that’s something that she and Madison have in common, I realize. They both demand one’s full attention without so much as a word.

“I brought you some iced tea and a few of Laura’s chocolate chip cookies,” Mom says, gliding across the room with a silver tray in her hands. Before I can complain about my sister’s dismal baking, my mother interjects. “You will eat one, Rhue, and later you will compliment Laura and tell her how good they are. Then you can chuck the rest out in the garbage bin, if that’s what you want.”

“Just make sure you don’t give any of it to the dog,” Madison replies, trying hard not to laugh. “Chocolate is lethal to them.”

“Wow, so you both have hearts of stone,” I mutter, nervously eyeing the uneven disks on the dessert plate. They’re brownish-gold and sprinkled with molten chocolate chips. They look edible, but there is something in the way my mother looks at them that makes me worry a little.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Echeveria has it right. By eating one, you get to partake in your sister’s act of baking. Whether you like the taste of it or not doesn’t matter. What matters is how you encourage your sister to keep trying, because practice makes perfect,” Madison says, taking one cookie and holding it up between her thumb and index finger. “You could tell her they’re bad, if you wish to be brutally honest. But if you ever wish to consider a career in politics, now is a good time to learn how to lie and make people happy.”

Mom giggles. “You really are brilliant. Rhue wasn’t exaggerating at all.”

Well, that sort of puts me on the spot, but in the presence of two such powerful women, I’d be a fool to fight such titanic forces of nature. I don’t know Madison well. Heck, I barely know her at all. But everything about her speaks volumes, and every time she looks at me I get nervous inside. Slightly insecure. Goofy, even, like everything I am isn’t worth a shit in her presence. I shouldn’t feel this way, yet it cannot be helped.

I’ve had girls in my bed before. It’s not about the sexual aspect. Or, better said, it’s that, too. Everything that makes Madison who I perceive her to be lights me up on the inside, like an out-of-control wildfire. Academic excellence is much more appealing now that I’m working with her to get to it.

“Madison is right, though,” Mom adds, graciously stepping away from the desk. “Your sister needs as much encouragement as she can get. If you tell her these cookies are as chewy as my car’s tires, it will break her heart and she won’t try making them again.”

“But if I lie, it will encourage her into further attempts at poisoning the entire family,” I reply, and Madison takes a bite from her cookie.

“They’re not that bad. Though she clearly overdid it with the salt,” she says, chewing several times before she swallows. Her next move is to go for the glass of water and chug half of it down. “Good grief, it’s like the Dead Sea in there.”

Mom laughs. I’m delighted by that sound, especially knowing how dickish my dad has been lately. I’ve smelled the liquor and trashy perfumes on him, more than once. I’ve heard Mom on the phone with her sister, complaining about his debauchery and shamelessness. She thinks she has shielded me from this garbage, and I can’t bring myself to tell her that she hasn’t. The longer Laura and I retain our “innocence,” the better Mom will feel. And she needs a win.

“I’ll leave you two to your studies,” she says, tucking a lock of her sandy blond hair behind her delicate ear. A pearl dangles from the lobe, with a gold setting. She never wears much jewelry to begin with, despite having enough money to buy out an entire Harry Winston shop. Just earrings and a bracelet. Maybe a statement ring every once in a while. Mom believes that wealth should not be flaunted. The real strength is in the power we wield behind the scenes, not in the riches we buy where everyone can see.

“You know to call on the internal line if there’s anything else you need. Charlie is manning the ship tonight.”

“Charlie is our butler,” I casually tell Madison.

She gives me a contemptuous look. “Why’d you say it like it’s supposed to impress me?”

“It doesn’t?” I can only pray she realizes I’m joking.

“Maybe. A little,” Madison chuckles, and some of the tension begins to clear from the room just as Mom walks out and the door clicks shut behind her. For a moment, I contemplate the silence that follows. It’s not awkward, but tranquil. As if Madison and I are perfectly comfortable with one another in the complete absence of words. There is no need to say anything.

For what feels like forever, I look at her and take in every single detail. The elegant lines that draw up her face. The slight curves and smooth edges, her skin glazing everything in a gorgeous shade of ivory with just a hint of a pearlescent sheen. Her hair is the shade of pale honey, pouring down her shoulders in rich curls, and the blue of her eyes reminds me of the summer sky I saw outside only hours ago. By every single physical parameter, this girl should dominate the beauty magazines. It’s not just her all-American, girl-next-door, drop-dead-gorgeous face that works to her advantage.

Madison has a swimmer’s body, with shoulders slightly broader than most women, and legs for days. I can see now why she is the leading cause of blue balls throughout the entire high school even though she doesn’t go there. And I can also see why the guys on my hockey team would be bold enough to say she’s given them a blow job or two—they think they can get away with these lies because she’s not in high school anymore. Maybe she does perform such favors, but honestly, I have a hard time seeing it. She’s the forbidden fruit. I don’t sense a bite taken out of her. I don’t know, it’s just my instinct telling me she’s pure, deep down.

I wonder if she has ever fallen in love before.

Maybe she’s a virgin.

I know her dad is pretty strict about things like that. But still, the rumors from other guys paint her most salaciously.

Do I even care if she’s ridden a cock before or not? Do I plan on fucking her or do I plan to marry her? I’d start with step one and see where that takes us, because there is nothing more exciting right now than the prospect of losing my mind between her legs.

“Earth to Rhue,” Madison says. And just like that, my fantasies wither.

We’re back in my study. I’m in the king’s swivel chair, so to speak. My dad’s seat. She’s watching me from the other side of the desk. Her eyes narrow into a pair of sapphire slits.

“I hope you’re not gonna zone out on me like this throughout the session. It’ll be easy money for me, in the end, but you’re the one who’s missing out.”

“Oh, no, not at all, sorry,” I reply and clear my throat, nodding at the binder. “I see you were serious about your Federalist collection.”

“These are just copies of my printed copies,” she sighs. “It’s not like I can afford any of the original prints.”

I can’t help but grin. “Would you like one?”

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