Page 21 of The Tenth Circle

Damn it, Hendrix. Pretenses.

“Not theentirefemale population.” Saint wiggles his eyebrows. “But we’ve got time, Hendrix. It’s only the first week.”

“You’re a pig.”

There’s a speck of annoyance staining the gorgeous features of his face. Good. He can take it as a dose of karma for all the blatant disrespect. Then, I’ll store this little tell in the arsenal of psychological weapons I may have to use against him.

3

HENDRIX

“So tell us, Hen. How’s it been going?” Auntie Pop applies a fresh layer of lipstick, and I watch as a breeze brushes through her long, luscious dark hair.

Gotta love loaded questions while nursing a weekend hangover.

“I see you’ve gotten closer to Archer and Rebecca,” Mom adds with a twinkle in her brown eyes—not from excitement, but because radiance is a trait that comes easy to the Montgomery women.

Juniper and Poppy Montgomery. The twenty-first century faces that could launch a thousand ships. At least that’s what I heard some rando tell them once.

They may be the twins at the table, but I still share most of their features: average height, straight dark hair, peachy skin, freckles around the nose. Can’t speak on my dad’s side because I’ve never seen what he looks like.

Mostly because I never wanted to.

“Yeah, they’re pretty awesome.”

“And the others?”

Well, they can all go fuck themselves.

“Some are alright, most aren’t.”

“Sorry, kiddo.” Auntie agrees. “Teenagers suck.”

I smile. “Eh, it’s all good. I got my thick skin from you.”

“Hey!” Mom feigns offense. “I have thick skin too!”

Auntie Pop rolls her eyes and I do the same.

“Oh please, June.” She scoffs. “I called you ugly one time and you ran to Dad crying. Got me grounded for a week.”

The mention of Grandpa makes me smile, my aunt’s picture painted so clear. Mom was always his favorite and she knew it, which I’m sure plays a vital role in why she named me after his favorite musician.

Yes, yes, I’m referring to Jimi Hendrix.

“The greatest guitarist of all time” as per Grandpa, and he would always argue that Rolling Stone could vouch for it.

Mom shoves auntie's arm playfully. “You will never let me live that down, will you?”

“Nope. Maybe even longer than when Mom found out you broke the floral family tradition.”

Auntie Pop is referring to the tradition of every female in the Montgomery lineage being named after a flower.

Until Mom went and snapped the stem with music.

No matter how much Grandma loved me, she never truly forgave her for it. The disappointment didn’t mean much to me because I was spoiled regardless, but I know Mom still carries a weight from her decision.

Even now with both of them gone.