Page 73 of Satan's Spawn
I glance down at the strings she calls bathing suits and reach for the single exact opposite. An aqua bandeau bikini.
“Fine.” Hendrix groans as I hold up the strapless swim top, unwilling to compromise since I already agreed to wear wedges instead of flip flops.
Only because she sidelined the Converse for a pair of platform strappy sandals.
It takes me around forty minutes to get dressed, between my unwavering nerves, which even a walk with Potato couldn’t cure, and Mom finding every reason to come into my bedroom to spy on us as we get ready.
Thank God Roman decided to head to the gallery early, all I’d need to add to my day of reckoning is my stepdad seeing me dressed like this and wanting to paint a damn portrait of us before we go.
Potato is at my side the entire time I flat iron my hair, assisting me in making sure I don’t miss any wavy spots since Hendrix disappeared to eat some of Mom’s pancakes. I’ve never been the type to want to impress, but damn these Riverside kids make me want to prove a point.
I won’t back down. I won’t let them win.
Especially him.
I may not fight back or raise my voice or curse them out like I want to ninety-nine percent of the time, but I still have my dignity. And it will be coming with me to this party today.
A ding goes off on my phone, and I don’t even have to look to know it’s Archer because he said he would be here at noon sharp.
It’s eleven-fifty-five.
Sampson’s house is in Alpine: an area of New Jersey around forty minutes outside Manhattan where the houses are known to be compared to celebrity mansions.
Shooting Archer a quick text letting him know we’ll be down in five, I put the phone in my clutch and take in a deep refreshing breath.
So what if I’m wearing short jean shorts and a freaking strapless bra over my chest? Heels on my feet?
I’ll be eighteen in two weeks. It’s not exactly taboo to dress this way in the summer. Especially when the summers feel more like walking through Hell’s exhaust pipe.
Not to mention, where I’m from, girls my age dress this way in the winter, too.
“Archer’s here.” Hendrix pops her head in, mouth still filled with pancakes as she bites another chunk off the one in her hand. “Hope you shaved your cooch.”
She’s such an idiot.
“Or at least left a landing strip for Felix.”
Okay, now she’s gone completely insane.
“You done?” I ask in a bored tone, trying my best not to walk awkwardly in Mom’s black wedges. “Felix will be getting nowhere near my cooch.”
“That’s right, I forgot. You’re saving it for a psycho.” She rolls her eyes, disappearing into the hall.
Hendrix has not let up about me covering for Crayton, even though I still haven’t admitted to her it was him who left the gash on my neck. The one that’s covered up neatly with concealer not to draw any more attention to the high school pariah showing up at a party.
Mom is standing by the front door as we reach it, with a broad smile on her face and Potato in her arms.
“You girls have a great time today! I love that the school gives you the option to go off campus on the weekends.”
Yeah, well, I won’t be making this a habit that’s for sure.
“Thanks Mom.” I kiss her cheek, and then Potato’s head as he looks up at me. “I’ll see you later, my Chunky Muffin. Mommy misses you so much.”
“Alright, Chicka, that’s enough talking to animals, let’s go.” Hendrix pulls my arm, dragging me out the door she did the honors of opening. “I’m pretty sure we don’t need to add a weird animal fetish to our peers’ arsenal of rumors, do we?” She whispers as we exit into the hall, leaving Mom behind in the doorway using Potato’s hand to wave good-bye.
“Stay safe, girls! If you need anything just call me and I’ll be right there.”
Pretty sure nobody but God himself could save me from the shit storm I’m about to walk into.
