Page 34 of Butterfly

As if she’d heard my thoughts, she smiled. “Any attention you think you’ve gotten from him is just him fucking with your head. How could he want his silly little, loser stepsister? What do you think you have to offer him, except boredom and ridicule?”

I tried to calm my breathing, willing my face not to turn red. No luck; I could feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment, especially because I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

“Tell you what,” I said to Emily, “You may think I’m delusional, but you’re making up some false story to deal with your own insecurities—that you can’t hold onto Mason, and that he’s using you. Unlike you, I want nothing to do with him. All of the attention I get from him is his choice. Can you say the same for yourself? Or are you another girl throwing yourself at him? Let me let you in on a little secret: he’s not worth it. Promise.”

With that, I turned back toward the barre and ignored her for the rest of class. I wasn’t going to let her tear me down or chase me away. I’d let someone do that before—Mason and his friends, when they tortured me enough to run off to Bea’s for the remainder of the summer. I wasn’t letting anyone do that again. It didn’t matter that Emily thought I was pathetic, I knew I wasn’t.

Then why did you let your stepbrother stick his hand up your skirt and get you off? my inner voice asked, half-taunting, half-curious.

That question plagued me for the rest of class, as I ignored the glares and whispers directed my way. It trailed me as I walked back to the dorm, torturing myself over my actions earlier that day. Forget what everyone here would think, what would my mom say if she found out I’d hooked up with my stepbrother? Her husband’s son? Shame snuck its way into my dorm room with me, where I collapsed onto my bed and muffled my frustrated scream.

My phone buzzed, interrupting my flip out.

get home okay?

The text was from a number I didn’t recognize.

who is this

you know who it is

Goddamn it. How had he gotten my number? He was the absolute last person I wanted to talk to right now, even though those butterflies danced in excited circles in my stomach. They must have been high.

mason

I don’t know how you got this number

Another text came through.

you’re my stepsister

you don’t think I can get your number easily?

Fair point.

fine

but don’t use it again

I tossed my phone down the bed, but it buzzed again.

Don’t look, I told myself.

But I couldn’t stop myself from picking it up again and peeking at it through my fingers like it was a horror movie.

nice try, butterfly

what’s gotten into you?

other than my fingers

Heat stirred in my stomach and between my legs. His crude words brought back the memory of his hands on me, and how good they had felt. But I couldn’t let him know I felt that way.

cute

I try

I started to smile at that, but froze when I remembered the sneer on Emily’s face, and the judgment I could feel from everyone listening to our confrontation. I had to stay away from Mason. Even if this wasn’t just a new way to fuck with my head. Even if I was right that Tiffanie had acted of her own volition this summer. Even if Emily was full of shit.

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