Page 46

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

SARAH

I dance around the open firepit, enjoying the breeze on my skin.

Music blares from a nearby truck. Everyone is drunk, high, or both.

The monthly rave at the old campground is infamous in the area and has been for years.

The cops turn a blind eye to the popular party site.

They’ve all been young once, and hey! It beats parents getting their houses trashed by a bunch of adolescents who need to blow off steam.

Erin caught me sneaking out again, obviously.

Every time I clamber down the trellis, her head pops out of the window to remind me what will happen if Dad finds out I’m gone.

I’ve long given up on asking her to come with me.

She’s happiest with her stupid piano. I’d rather blow my brains out than sit through another of her classical renditions on a Friday night.

Talk about dull. Thank fuck Dad doesn’t pay for me to have music lessons anymore.

Everyone cheers as another truck pulls up with a fresh keg. A bunch of jocks gather, taking it in turns to stick their heads under the foam. Max Carter is one of them. He ducks out after swallowing a mouthful to a round of applause.

A girl I barely know swoons next to me.

“You’re so lucky,” she says, gushing over Max’s display. “You’re dating Max, right?”

“It’s early days,” I reply with a shrug.

It’s nothing serious. Max isn’t my usual type, but he has killer abs and isn’t totally selfish in the bedroom, unlike a few other members of the hockey team I’d rather forget about.

Better still, my darling sister has had a crush on him for years, not that she’ll admit it, which makes screwing him even sweeter.

Some may argue it’s petty to only date a guy because your sister likes him, and maybe I am.

Being a twin means growing up in constant competition, and Erin usually wins every time.

She’s Daddy’s little angel who does nothing wrong and gets whatever she wants at the click of her fingers, but me?

I’m the fucking devil. The daughter he hates.

The one he’s determined to suck the life out of.

Much to my father’s dismay, I’m a free spirit. Live, laugh, love, fuck, and drink until the sun comes up, or however the phrase goes.

Erin’s my opposite. Studious, prim, timid.

She gets straight A’ s, and our entire house is a museum dedicated to showcasing her trophies boasting of impressive academic achievements.

Despite that, she’s basically a social pariah, which means I’m at least better than her at one thing.

Although, hooking up with guys and partying doesn’t look great on a résumé.

If Little Miss Perfect isn’t already unbearable enough, she’s recently started lecturing me about my behavior.

If she kept her mouth shut, I wouldn’t have felt obligated to hook up with Max.

Ironically, if she actually admitted her feelings and got her nose out from under a book, they’d probably make a good match. Not that I’ll tell her that.

“Sarah!” Max waves at me through the throng of partiers. “Wanna dance?”

I down my drink and shimmy over. We dance together; I grind on him in my tiny hot pants. God, I wish nights like this could last forever. Being at home drives me crazy.

Thankfully, Dad works away a lot, but he dropped a fresh bombshell at dinner. We’re moving to Pasturesville at the end of the semester, so he’ll be closer to the asylum.

I don’t see why we have to go. We have everything we need here, but he’s intent on making me suffer. Even worse, he wants to send us to a fancy private school called Stonybridge Academy. Naturally, Erin is delighted. It’ll be the perfect place for her to thrive among a bunch of entitled assholes.

Dad has spent years rubbing shoulders with the most important people in Pasturesville, pretending he’s one of them to build an image of respectability. I’m one of the few people who can see beyond his facade. He’s a wife-beating faker. He desperately wants to fit in, but he doesn’t. Just like Erin.

Sneaking out tonight is my big old ‘fuck you’ to his plans. I need to celebrate while I can.

“Come on,” I whisper, grabbing Max’s hand and pulling him away from the crowd. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

We stop at a private spot between the trees, out of sight from the others. He kisses me, and I slide my hands over the front of his pants.

Suddenly, Max breaks off.

I frown. “What’s wrong?”

Usually, he’s already under my shirt by now.

“I love hooking up with you,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong, the sex is fucking incredible. But maybe we can talk tonight?”

“Talk?” I laugh and kiss his neck. Anything to shut him up. “We can talk anytime.”

My annoyance rises when he shrugs me off again.

“We’ve been dating for a few months, and I don’t know anything about you,” he says. “I mean, not really.”

What a fucking bore. He’s ruining the party vibe.

“What more do you want to know?” I sigh. “You know all there is to know. I’m on the cheer squad, I’m failing math, and I love Mexican food.”

“What about your family?” he prompts. “I’ve not met your parents yet. Every time I bring them up?—”

“There’s nothing to say,” I say sharply.

“What about the marks on your thighs? The cuts?” he says. “I’ve not asked about them before, but I’ve seen them.”

I shove his chest.

“Since when are you a fucking therapist?” I ask. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re at a party.”

“I’m worried about you,” he says. “I care about you.”

This always happens. Guys are supposed to fuck without catching feelings, but that doesn’t seem to be my experience. At the beginning, they’re happy to have sex with no strings, and then they keep wanting more from me. More I’m unwilling to give. Neediness is such a drag.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Max.”

“I’d like to be,” he says, his eyes shining with a false hope that I want to stamp out.

I don’t want a boyfriend. Ever. If anyone got close enough to know what I’m really like, they wouldn’t want to know me at all. They’d see how fucked up I am. How fucked up he’s made me. Staying surface level is best. Pretending is easier.

“I’ve already told you, I don’t do relationships,” I say, kissing his neck. “Aren’t you happy with things how they are?”

His face falls like a wounded puppy. It takes every ounce of self-control not to roll my eyes.

“But I thought?—”

“You thought wrong,” I say, stepping away with a disappointed sigh. “I need a drink.”

Talk about clingy…

I return to the party and corner the local dealer. Typically, he’s run out of pills. Why tonight? I’m craving something to take the edge off, and lukewarm beer isn’t cutting it.

Laurie hurries to join me.

“Have you and Max had a fight?” she asks, masking her glee with fake concern after noticing us leave the forest separately.

Laurie is the cheer squad captain and the closest person I have to a best friend. Although she acts nice, she secretly hates me, along with anyone else she sees as a threat. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer is my motto.

“No,” I lie, not wanting to give her any ammunition. “We’re fine, and we’re not dating—remember? We’re keeping it casual.”

“Oh yeah,” she says. “I forgot your dad doesn’t let you date.”

I don’t add that it’s also because I don’t want to.

Up ahead, a blinding headlight cuts through the leaves. A few couples getting to third base scream as the car stops.

Fuck, I recognize the plate…

“Oh, shit!” Laurie chuckles. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Dad gets out of the car and marches over with a face like thunder.

“Sarah!” he yells. “Your sister told me I’d find you here. What part of ‘you’re grounded’ don’t you understand?”

Fucking Erin. Why can’t she keep her mouth shut?

“The staying in the house part, it seems,” I reply sarcastically.

“Get in the car,” he orders through gritted teeth. A vein in his temple pulses. I wonder whether it’s possible for someone’s head to combust and what his brains would look like sprayed everywhere. “Right now.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

I’m not in the party mood anymore, anyway.

I stomp away, leaving him trailing behind. It’s not the first time he’s shown up at a party uninvited. I slam the car door closed and cross my arms with a huff.

“You can save your breath,” I say when he slides in next to me. “I get it. I’m a disappointment.”

“You’ve been drinking,” he states as we drive away.

“So?” I counter. “You’re moving me away from all my friends soon. Aren’t I allowed a little celebration?”

“You’re not twenty-one.”

“Who waits until twenty-one to drink?” I roll my eyes. “Don’t you remember being a teenager? This is normal. You don’t see other parents showing up.”

“That’s because their parents don’t care what happens to them.”

“Don’t pretend you care about me,” I snap. “All you care about is your precious fucking reputation.”

Dad slams on the brakes, jolting us forward.

“I should sue you for whiplash,” I mutter, rubbing my neck dramatically.

“That’s it,” he says, hitting the gas. “I’ve had enough.”

Usually, Dad sticks religiously to the speed limit. Now, he hurtles around corners like a rally driver. I’d give him kudos if it wasn’t dark and scary as shit.

“Where are we going?” I ask, clinging to my seat.

He ignores me as we set off toward Pasturesville.

Maybe I’ve pushed Daddy dearest too far this time.