Page 15

kennedy

Shane’s mom cooks us a very basic meal of roast beef, green beans, and roasted potatoes. It’s pretty standard American fare and in no way competes with my mom’s cooking skills. Another big difference between them both.

The food doesn’t sit well in my stomach, mainly because Shane seems to be scrutinizing every bite I take. His eyes narrow at one point during the meal, when it’s obvious he wants me to pretend that it’s the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.

“Do you like the roast beef, hun’?” His mother asks my father. I can’t believe she’s using terms of endearment for him publicly already.

“It’s delicious, Kate. Reminds me of my grandmother’s and that’s a serious compliment.”

“Was she a good cook?”

“The best.”

Oh, good Lord, Daddy. Don’t bring Great-Grandma into this.

“Yeah, Ma, it’s really good,” Shane adds, looking at me with a side eye.

“Uh, I don’t usually eat beef,” I say, and Shane kicks me softly under the table. “But it’s tasty.”

A few more minutes of mindless pleasantries continue over the dinner table. Shane drones on about hockey. My father asks me about business school. And then the bomb drops.

“Baby girl, I have some great news,” my father says, dropping his fork down with a clank.

“What is it?”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’ve asked Kate to marry me, and she said yes!”

Kate stands out of her seat and offers me a smile of self-restraint, her engagement ring sparkling under the white lights of the chandelier. I didn’t notice it earlier because I don’t make it a habit of inspecting what Kate is wearing, but now it shines in my eyes like a beacon of futile hope.

“We wanted to wait until you got home to tell you.”

I feel my stomach drop.

“You’re marrying her?” I turn my head to glare at Shane. “Did you know about this?”

Shane’s head is down, but he slowly lifts it and enunciates slowly, “I had some idea.”

“Kee-Kee,” my father interrupts as Shane’s mother sits back down.

“Do you even know what this means?” I say to my dad.

My dad’s smile falters. “Kennedy, I thought you’d be happy for us.”

“And why would you think that?” I ask in disbelief, standing for dramatic effect.

“Maybe because I thought my happiness mattered to you.”

“How can I be happy? You just met her and now she’s in my mother’s house, cooking in my mother’s kitchen, and her son is the most arrogant person at my school making my life a living hell.”

“Excuse you,” Shane interrupts with laughter in his voice. “Me, arrogant?”

I slam my hand on the table, glaring at him, my fists clenched.

“Don’t you dare make a joke out of this! You’ve made my life miserable at school, and now I have to deal with you at home?”

“Does Shane bother you at school?” his mother asks in confusion, looking between us. “I thought you two were friends.”

Shane raises an eyebrow. “We seem to only be friends when she comes to my games or to my parties. You know, when it’s convenient for her.”

“What does that mean?” I snap. “There’s always some sarcastic undercurrent to everything you say. I go to the school’s hockey games, not just yours.”

“And the parties?”

“You made me go!”

“You forced her to go to a party, Shane?” His mother asks in disbelief.

“I can’t imagine that I could force Kennedy to do anything she didn’t want to do.” He responds. “We made a bet on a game and she lost. That’s why she came to the last party. You’d have to ask her why she came to all the others.”

I despise him.

“That’s only half the story!” I protest. “The truth is that we are not friends and we never will be. You’re like a pesky tick that is leeching onto me and invading my family, sucking the blood out of us!”

“Kennedy!” my father protests.

“You definitely should be in the theater department and not the business school.” Shane crosses his arms, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. “I’m not invading anything. Our parents are getting married, not us. Get over it.”

“Shane Sullivan, watch your tone. And I told you to look out for Kennedy and get to know her, not harass her.”

“Look out for me?” I scoff. “Do you really think I want to go on campus every day and chat it up with the one person who is a constant reminder of bullshit going on in here?”

“Sit down, Kennedy,” my father orders in a voice I haven’t heard him use with me since I was nine-years-old so I take my seat. “What’s going on in here is that two people have made an adult decision to share our lives together,” he continues. “I understand you don’t care much for change, and I knew this would be difficult for you to hear, but I never imagined you’d be this emotional about it.”

“Dad–”

He raises a hand to quiet me.

“It is Christmas. Kate is a guest in this house, and she will soon be a member of this family. Our family. So I warn you, please don’t say anything else tonight that you’ll regret because I promise that it won’t play out the way that you expect.”

My father’s harsh words slice at my heart like shards of glass. He just made it clear, in front of everyone, that if he has to make a choice, it will be Shane’s mother.

If I sit at this table any longer, I’m afraid that I’m going to cry and embarrass myself more than I already have, but if I leave, I may enrage my father even more than he already is. Thankfully, I get a pardon.

“You may be excused,” he tells me. “I think you need some time to reflect on your attitude.”

There are tears in Shane’s mother’s eyes, practically mirroring what my own must look like, and the weight of how I’ve reacted tonight is becoming much clearer. Maybe I’m not as mature as I like to think I am but dammit, this all really hurts.

I close the door to my room and think about calling my mom because she’s the only voice I want to hear, but that would be selfish. Why should I ruin her holiday by telling her about this? While I understand my parents’ divorce was “amicable,” I’m pretty sure that it would still hurt my mom to know how my father has moved on with his life.

Suddenly, there’s a heavy knock at my door. I’d know the sound of those Fred-Flinstone-sized knuckles anywhere.

“What, Shane?” I say through the door.

“Open up.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

Of course, he opens the door anyway, and once he sees my tear-stained face, his expression softens slightly. “Look, Kennedy, I get it. We haven’t exactly been best friends, but maybe, for our parents’ sake, can we at least try to make this work?”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. This whole situation feels like a nightmare. Like somebody else’s life. Yet the realization I have zero control over the choices that my father has been made abundantly clear to me tonight. I have to make some sort of peace with it, even if that means that Shane is now a fixture in my life.

Shane waits for my response, his usual arrogance replaced by something resembling genuine concern.

Reluctantly, I nod. “Fine. For our parents.”

My shoulders relax slightly, but the tension between us remains as he advances towards me carefully, like he’s walking on eggshells. The closer he gets, the more I have to tilt my head to watch his approach.

Shane is tall.

Ridiculously tall.

He stands in between my legs as I sit on the edge of my bed and uses his thumb and pointer finger to tilt my chin up higher to face him.

The unexplainable part is I let him.

He bends down slowly, probably anticipating that I’ll stop him at any moment, but I don’t. I know what he’s about to do. I’m almost daring him to do it. To get it over with. This explosive energy between us has been building for months. We both know it. I’ve just been too afraid of it to do anything about it.

It’s not the brutal clash of lips and teeth that I expected between us. Actually, it’s a soft, tentative, careful kiss that feels different from any kiss I’ve ever had before.

Shockingly, my body enjoys this.

My nipples pebble and I feel that all too familiar squirm in between my legs when I’m turned on. And when the kiss ends, I almost feel bereft.

“I’m glad that’s settled,” he says with a smile I have grown to ignore because it can’t be trusted.

What in the actual fuck am I doing?

“Get out,” I tell him, my voice cracking.

“I’m going. I’m sure you have a lot to process. You just kissed your stepbrother. That’s got to be a Christmas mind fuck for your ass.”

“I hate you!”

“Your brain might hate me, but your pussy definitely doesn’t. I can smell how much she likes me from here.”

“Get! Out! Shane!”

“See you at the next game,” he laughs as he closes the door behind him.

I fall back on my bed, turn over, and scream into the pillow. There’s got to be a way I can reverse Parent Trap , this smug fucker and his mother out of my life.

I just have to figure it out.