Page 34 of Spiteful Lies

Astrid

“What’s this notice about a parents’ weekend?” Roni frowns at her phone as we occupy the dorm lounge. “I thought they had one while I was gone.”

Housekeeping cleans our floor while we ditch Monday classes. It seems it’s a tradition for seniors to cut classes after a big holiday weekend. Chauffeured cars line up at the stone gate and drop students off for the entire day. It’s a privilege that many expect to have an extra day off, and busy or bored parents won’t be rushed to return their kids to Stonehaven on time.

So, we occupy the lounge while Housekeeping cleans our rooms. I sit with Roni while Charlotte, Wren, and Gemma sit at another table. It’s still a delicate and sore subject, Charlotte breaking up with Terri or Roni taking him back. It all depends on whose version you want to listen to. I live with Roni, so I side with her, but Charlotte understands. Meanwhile, Gemma refuses to look at me, and when she does, her face turns beet red. I knew she was listening through the wall.

Charlotte doesn’t ignore me while she sits with her uptight two-faced friends, and I don’t ignore her, sitting with mine. We talk back and forth, and I pass her my lip gloss when she complains about going to get hers. Their feud can go either way—it will end quietly or keep seething slowly. But right now, I don’t care. I feel that I didn’t do enough for Charlotte in that hospital room. I swear to myself that I’ll try again.

“Astrid, is your mother coming to parents’ weekend?” Wren’s smile is so sharp it could cut through granite. “She didn’t come to the Harvest Day program. Neither did I, but I heard you were there.” Her tone is cheerful as she sets me up easily.

“I’m not sure if she’s coming.” I eye Charlotte, who must’ve told her. “She hasn’t made plans yet.”

“She should come,” smiles Gemma, trying to sound casual while she shakes. Shit, girl, it’s only sex. “I’m sure she’ll want to meet all your friends.”

I hope the look I’m giving her is dirty enough, but Gemma is too thick to catch my meaning and keeps going with the faux sweetness.

“Does your mother live in Rockingham?” she asks, “Has she been to Stonehaven before?”

Ignoring her like she’s air and not solid, I shift in my seat and start scrolling through my phone. I’m quiet, not sure what to say. A sassy comeback is eluding my mind.

“Astrid’s mom has a life,” Roni pipes in. “She doesn’t have time to hover over Astrid like other moms.”

“My mom doesn’t hover over me,” Gemma scoffs. “I was only curious. If she’s anything like Astrid, I’d like to meet her.”

That bitch. But when I eye Gemma, I can’t tell if she’s being sincere or making fun of me. If she’s sassing me, I’ll shoot her down in a flash, but what if she’s making fun of my mom? I don’t want to talk about my mom. Suddenly, I’m terrified to talk about her, to even mention her. I don’t want to slip. No one needs to know she’s a recovering addict.

“Yeah, when she comes, if she comes, I’ll introduce her around.” I start reading my phone like I didn’t see the same shit yesterday to avoid their intense stares.

“You sound subdued. I heard Rawlins went ballistic, but when is she not?” replies Gemma. Then she starts talking about her vacation.

Bored with the monologue, Wren cuts her off. “When our parents are here,” she leans in, talking directly to Charlotte and Gemma, “we should do something together.”

“I need to take care of something,” I announce to no one as I get up from my seat. I go back into my room as the cleaning crew leaves the floor. Sighing, I plop down on my bed, and my head lands face down in the pillow.

“You took off quickly, leaving me with those girls.” Roni speaks loudly as she enters our room, glancing at the fresh sheets on her bed. She sits down on mine. “What’s wrong?”

“By the time I tell you everything that has been screwed the fuck up, it will be our graduation.”

Roni shakes her head, scooting backward until she’s against the wall. “I mean about your mom. If she’s coming this weekend, I’d like her to meet mine. I want to meet the oak that dropped this nut.” She playfully pushes my head into the pillow.

Giggling, I shove her thigh with my foot. “I thought it’s an acorn.” I run my hand through my hair, tugging at the roots. “For a second, I felt ashamed of her. I’ve never felt ashamed, not even when I should. I had no dad, and that didn’t shame me.” Suddenly, I feel worn out, as if I had been running miles. “I don’t know how clean Mom is.”

Roni rubs my leg. “I’m sorry, Astrid. I don’t want to sound like a jerk, but if you knew how many parents are high when they show up here, you wouldn’t be worried. It’s the only way to get through the weekend at Stone-haven.”

I roll my eyes and move my leg, so she’ll stop rubbing it. “Did you hear about the Harvest Day program?”

Roni’s silent, and I wonder if she heard about it or watched the replay on social. “Yeah, I heard all about the public meltdown,” she admits, “Hot Bryce Shelton having a freak out on his father is a rising topic. You weren’t mentioned.” She stares into my face. “So, you were the cause?”

I jump off the bed. “I’m going to the gym.” It’s not Roni’s fault, being curious. And she didn’t say those awful things about me, but I’m in no mood. “Sorry, I don’t want to talk about it.”

The room is silent, as if we’re living inside a vacuum and too nervous to make a sound. Roni slides off my bed and sits on hers, letting the moment go as I gather up my gear. Maybe I should’ve said bye before I left, but I just want to get out of the dorm. All those girls know my business. I hate it. I hate the thought of them talking about me like I’m trash, and meeting my mother will only confirm the rude gossip. That’s not right. I know better than to think that, but I also know what they’ll say.

Chapter 24

Astrid

The second my feet enter Stonier, I’m heading straight toward the private gym and avoiding any chance of eye contact with anyone in the main gym. Every time I run into Gillian, she looks at me like Bambi looking for his mom. I don’t hate her, but it’s too soon. Hurrying up the stairs two at a time, I keep my eyes straight ahead until I’m in one of the private studios.

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