“So why do you have to?” She chews on her lip and tilts her head.
“Her platform and approval ratings center on her being a family woman. A leader, a mother, a wife.” I scoff, knowing how much of it is manufactured to keep her numbers high over the guy running against her. “Pretty much everything comes down to politics. Trust me, I’ve tried to get out of these things. She’s…difficult. Persistent.”
Thea hums. “I know what that’s like. Mine is always breathing down my neck.”
My grip on the wheel tightens. I want to tell her I know all about how her mother is, but we’ve just got to a good place and I already gave up one piece of myself today.
“So if it’s all about family stuff, why is it important for you to show up with a girlfriend?” She fiddles with the radio and stops on a song she must like, because she bobs her head to the upbeat music. “Is that why it’s a fundraiser for the children’s hospital?”
Thea is being nosy again, but it doesn’t stir the same ire. In fact, I like her curiosity. She’s asking good questions, strategic ones I would pose myself.
“Yeah. Real flimsy, if you ask me.” I cock my head as I turn onto our street. “She doesn’t have other children, so if I show up with you, it sends a subliminal message of her being a grandmother someday. Nurturing a legacy.”
“Oh, so now we are having those two point five fake kids?” Thea taps my arm with a light swat. I park in my driveway. She certainly took that better than I expected. “You should’ve told me, dear. That will affect my outfit.”
I sit back in my seat, angled toward her, totally aware of the crooked, dopey smile on my face. I don’t do a damn thing to wipe it off. She keeps surprising me.
Thea winks—or, she tries to, it’s sort of a pained blink with both eyes that does things to my heart that shouldn’t be scientifically possible—and hops out of the car. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, sunshine.” I sit in the car, watching her all the way to her house.
The girl next door has me under her spell.
Seventeen
Thea
Raised voices catch my attention late Friday afternoon as Constantine follows me out of the house. I stopped at the store to restock the baking ingredients that were getting low. Mom is out for the weekend on a spa retreat, and Dad is on a trip to Salt Lake City for a conference. It’s just Constantine and I, which means the kitchen is all mine, so I’ve got all my bakes lined up until I need to play girlfriend for Connor tomorrow night. It worked out perfectly that my parents are out of town, so I don’t have to explain the dress hanging up in my room or where I’m going.
“You need to keep him away from me.” Connor sounds pissed as he stalks across his lawn to his Lexus GX. “I’m not playing. I don’t want anything to do with him. Not eat his food, not talk about his day, not play happy family when we’re dysfunctional as fuck! This is bullshit!”
Mrs. Bishop stands with her arms crossed, and the younger man I recognize as their family friend who comes to their house several times a week is beside her.
“Come back inside, where we can discuss this.” Mrs. Bishop’s tone is sharp enough to cut and her platinum, sleek bob sways. There’s something about the set of her features that’s disconcerting, like they’re too perfect. “You’re making a scene.”
Constantine lets out a low boof and plants himself between me and our neighbors, standing sentry while I grab groceries from the trunk of my Mini Cooper. I shake my head with a wry smile. He’s a seventy pound overprotective lap dog. He’s not fooling anyone.
I grab the last bag from the car and catch Connor’s eye. The turmoil in his gray gaze shocks me. He looks away, jaw working.
Is he embarrassed? I didn’t think he cared what the world thought of him.
His mom gives me a shrewd once over, hyper aware of my presence. When she speaks again, she regulates her tone, sounding kinder. “Why don’t you come inside, sweetheart? Dinner is almost ready.”
I’m gripping the bag of flour and sugar, debating with myself. Don’t get involved. But I can’t ignore it, can I? It might not be my place to intervene, but damn it, the look on Connor’s face like he’s the only one in his corner hooks my insides and tugs hard. I won’t stand by while he’s hurting.
Not when I know how hard it can be to deal with parents.
Setting the bag of ingredients on the hood of my car, I cross the driveway to stand at his side. Constantine follows, laying down in the grass in front of my feet.
“Hi.” I take Connor’s hand and kiss his cheek, rising on tiptoe to reach. Turning to Mrs. Bishop, I wave. “I’m Thea. Connor’s girlfriend. I live next door and go to school with Connor.”
He’s stunned silent, watching me from the corner of his eye. I’m standing so close, I feel it when his chest caves with the force of the relieved breath hissing out of him.
Okay, maybe that was rash. Oh my god, why did I kiss him in front of his mom before introducing myself? I clutch his hand tighter.
Mrs. Bishop’s eyes narrow slightly, taking me in with a once over. I can’t help but feel she’s sizing me up and finding what she sees lacking.
Connor drops my hand, but before I can run to hide for being silly and intervening, his arm wraps around me, almost clinging to me. He’s strong and warm, engulfing me in his rich earthy scent.
“Well,” Mrs. Bishop says. Her eyes dart around the empty street. “We’re having a family discussion before dinner.”
“Mom,” Connor snaps. He rubs my shoulder, hugging me close. His voice is hard, but his touch is gentle. “Thea is my girlfriend. She’s my date for tomorrow night.”
Mrs. Bishop’s lips purse and she exchanges a look with their family friend. I’ve heard his name before—something with a D? She turns her attention to Connor, crossing the lawn to inspect me closely. She stops a short distance away, glancing at Constantine as he pops his head up. The vibe between her and Connor is charged.
Instead of cowering into his side, I put my arm around his waist so we’re a united front, lifting my chin as she sniffs. That’s a bitchy non-response if I’ve ever seen one, worse than my mom’s false-sympathetic hums.
“You said I needed to bring my girlfriend,” Connor says smugly. “Remember? Over that nice meal you were preparing with Damien.”
The way he says Damien is almost a growl.
“I didn’t realize the neighbor girl is who you were planning to bring.” Mrs. Bishop folds her hands in front of her. “I thought you were seeing Nina Goldman. Or was it Anette Rossi?”
Popular girls far more perfect for me, ones that hang out with Connor’s crowd and come from money, status, and power in Ridgeview. Not me, a nobody.
The effect of her dismissal is…wow. Is this what it’s like to appear polite while silently screaming fuck you?
Message received.
Message shredded.
Putting on my sweetest smile, I lean into Connor’s side. “We’ve only been dating since school started, but we have a really special connection.”
Her eyes flash. I can see where Connor gets his haunting gray eyes. His are impossible to look away from. Hers are just disconcerting. It doesn’t impress her, I guess, since I’m talking back.