Page 11 of Enemies to Prom Dates
From as far away as the foyer, I could hear the giggling in the kitchen and I fumed.
“Hypocritical much?” Mary, my younger sister by a year and by far the quietest among us, asked. “You bailed on me, too.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t bail on you, so much as I forgot about you That’s not the same thing.”
“Whatever,” Mary huffed and moved past me to head upstairs to her room while I made my way to the kitchen.
Our house was an impressive five bedrooms, four baths and four thousand square feet of sprawling mansion. Unlike the many historical Victorian homes that made up the town, ours wasnewconstruction. At first frowned upon, but then eventually accepted when Dad chose an architect who understood how to blend the home’s look alongside its Victorian neighbors.
Inside, however, was all completely modern. A formal living room and a dining room in the front of the house. An open plan kitchen and game room took up the width of the back of the house, and was where we all did our day-to-day living. The kitchen was massive, with a table large enough to seat the seven of us. Or six of us now.
Stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, an island that served as both extra counter space and an eating area with stools on one side.
All perfectly glamorous and nothing but the best.
How long can we hold on to all of this?
I shook off the thought. If I started thinking about that, I would end up thinking about why my father left again and there was no point to that.
Kit and Lyd were on stools at the island jabbering to our mother about their first day. Mom, who was chopping green peppers, was clearly encouraging them. I stopped at the arched entry to the kitchen, with a scowl on my face and hands on my hips. There was something definitely wrong with this scene. No one was looking guilty like they should.
“I told you both to meet me at three and we would walk home together!” I announced. I didn’t bother mentioning that, once they failed to show, I started walking home, only to get a text from Mary asking me where I was.
Lyd pouted at me. “Beth, we’re not babies anymore. We’re in high school now. Wick has license and a car and asked us if we wanted a lift home. Gigi was with us, too.”
That surprised me. “I thought you both hated Gigi. You said she was too mousy. Too quiet.”
“That was last year,” Lyd explained, as if I was dense. “Her brother is Fitz Darcy, which means she’s destined to be super popular so it’s important to become besties now before another crowd scoops her up. Besides, she needs us to make her interesting.”
Interesting or more like them.
Kit bobbed her head and lifted her hands. “So it was a choice. Walk home with Boring Beth and Mary or drive home with Wick who has his own car? Sorry, Beth. No brainer.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ve told you, you have to be careful with the juniors. They are all on the prowl, including Wick. Especially Wick.”
“We’ve known his family for years,” my mother said. “He’s harmless.”
“You don’t know the culture at school like I do, Mom.”
“She’s not wrong,” Lyd agreed. “Everyone knows that the fastest way to be the most popular freshman in school is to have a junior boyfriend. What’s so wrong with that? We’re both in high school.”
“Because they are seventeen and you are fourteen and there’s just…well, there’s just a difference.”
Lyd looked at me like my justification was lame, and maybe it was but what was I supposed to say? That they were virgins and juniors liked to seduce them because they were vulnerable. Not necessarily polite dinner conversation.
Not that I had ever fallen victim to a junior’s seductive charms. In fact, I’d made a hard rule years ago I would not lose my virginity until I was at least a junior. Seventeen seemed an entirely appropriate age to get the deed done.
Not too young to give the impression I was easy. Not too old to give the impression I was a prude.
In fact, I’d even considered Wick as someone who might punch my card. He was handsome, apparently very experienced, and there was a certain level of comfort with him for having known him as long as I had.
It was strange but, at that moment, an image of a scowling Fitz entered my mind. I could just imagine his disapproving expression that I would treat something as seriously as sex with such calculation.
Except everything I did was with calculation.
However, now, with our family troubles, losing my virginity was the last thing I was worried about. Who cared if people thought I was a prude? According to our mother it was way more important they thought we still had money.
Money. Something I wanted to run by my mother.
