Page 27 of Full Out Fiend

I sigh but continue to the kitchen. I don’t have it in me to come up with a new way to defend myself tonight. It’s not until I’ve turned on the lights in the kitchen that she tries a different angle.

“You really shouldn’t be eating this late.”

I stay silent, refusing to engage. I worked ten hours today. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m starving, and I have to be up early tomorrow. I grab a carton of eggs out of the fridge and walk toward the stove.

“Just because you don’t have to fit into a wedding dress on Saturday doesn’t mean you should just give up entirely.”

I dart a glance over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone. I may be used to her passive aggressive comments, but I hate the idea of Tahlia listening to this vitriol.

When my eyes land on my mother, her slim frame perched against the kitchen island, one eyebrow raised in challenge, I have no words. I offer her a sad, closed-mouth smile, then turn back to the stove and ignore her completely.

She huffs and hovers but eventually grows tired of watching me wait for the pan to heat up and leaves the room.

Once I’m sure I’m alone, I blink back tears as I fish out my phone.

Daphne: Lucy’s back on her bullshit tonight

Serena: Damn. You’d think after two weeks she’d finally take the hint.

Daphne: Wishful thinking. Bobbi told me she still hasn’t canceled her updo appointment for this weekend!

Serena: She’s delusional. I hate that you’re stuck in that house, babe.

I crack three eggs into the pan and season them before I stir.

Daphne: I know. I’ve got to figure something out.

Serena: My couch is always available! And I don’t think Eric has rented your old unit yet. I can talk to him if you want.

I didn’t renew the lease on my studio apartment across the hall from Serena at the beginning of summer. Anthony and I agreed that it didn’t make sense to pay the month-to-month rate, considering I planned to move into his place after the wedding.

My parents’ house was supposed to be a pit stop on the way to happily ever after.

Now it’s my own personal version of hell.

Daphne: Maybe. Can I crash at yours on Saturday night? I’m definitely not looking forward to being here all day with them.

Serena: For sure. We’ll make a day of it since we’re both off. Chin up, babe. The worst is already behind you.

I push the scrambled eggs around the pan and hope to God she’s right.

Chapter 17— Fielding (Two weeks later)

I’m fighting back boredom-induced slumber reading about neural crest cells when my phone vibrates on the coffee table.

I reach for it out of habit but pull back before I can pick it up. Med school officially starts in two weeks, and I’m trying my hardest to establish good study habits. Discipline. Focus. I need to rewire my brain if I’m going to survive the next several years and actually succeed at this.

After forcing myself to finish the page I’m on, I finally close the textbook and glance at my phone.

It’s a message from Cole.

Two words. A spark of hope.

Cole: She’s here

Fielding: For real? You’re sure? Can you ask if her name’s Daphne? I’m getting in the car right now if it’s her…

I get changed and pace while I wait for his reply—I have half a mind to call the main number at the bar and force him to respond.