Page 63 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

“No, why would you think I’d make you feel guilty? Why would you feel guilty?”

“You’re doing that innocent pouty thing. I’m not mad at you, I’m just… I don’t know. I should be happy, I have everything in life, but I’m pissed about everything.”

“Princess, it’s okay to be sad. Don’t feel like you have to live or feel a certain way.”

“But Alice has everything figured out. Trent is genuinely happy. You’ve always been good-hearted. I bet if you were in my situation, you would be over the moon excited for everyone.”

Mom frowns and props herself up on one elbow. “Denise, what’s really going on? Something deeper is bothering you.”

“I’m always in everyone else’s shadow. I’m twenty-one, and I hate my major and my friends, not to mention that I attract the worst guys.”

“Are you talking about Wyatt or Keaton?”

“I never cared about Wyatt, but he didn’t nag me and tended to me when I asked. What hurts is my pride and what he said. It hurt so much because I realized what a terrible person he was on the inside. I’m that kind of person too. Hearing it out loud brings it to light. Isabelle? We’re cut from the same cloth. Charlee, I got so mad because I know I’m just as bad. I hate myself. I hate who I used to be even more. Before Landon’s death, I was a bigger snob than I am now. A judgmental bitch seeking popularity and wanting to set the trend. I was in love with Luke Jamerson. Luke! I mourned his death along with Landon’s, even though he killed my brother.”

Mom reaches over and gives my knee a gentle shake. “That’s because you have a heart of gold. You felt and mourned the loss of someone you knew all your life. It takes a stronger person to be sympathetic to people they don’t even like.”

“I loved Landon, yet I still get embarrassed when people whisper about whether or not he was gay. I know it shouldn’t matter. I’m so ashamed. Oh my gosh and you know I didn’t support Trent and Rachel at first. I didn’t. I thought he could do better. I love Rachel. Always have. But I heard the talking and I—I don’t know. Maggie was so perfect—and I thought he should’ve stayed with her. I got embarrassed again. I am so tired of constantly worrying what society expects and not wanting to be just another Randall scandal. Alice, Landon, Trent, and oh my gosh, any minute I’m next. I didn’t stand up to Isabelle for a long time and let her ruin the rest of my school career because I knew, deep down, I deserved it. I’m a terrible person. I love Rachel and those kids so much. They’re the best things that ever happened. Other than Alice’s return, of course. But I chose to date Wyatt because I thought he was someone to be proud of and he was safe. Ha. He was the worst. He tried to use me for political gain and cheated on me. Then the horrible things he said, the way he talked to me and about Keaton. He called him trash. How had I never noticed it? I’ll tell you how because I’m so wrapped up in myself.”

A sharp pain to my right cheek cuts me off from spilling my guts. I hold my hand to my face and stare wide-eyed at my mom. She looks on the brink of tears. We stare at each other for a few long seconds.

“That’s enough.” She states in an eerily calm voice. “Your pity party is over. You’ve made mistakes. You know what, Denise? You’re immature, spoiled and overly dramatic. But you’re not in the same category as any of them. You hated yourself, and you have changed. You’ve matured. You still have a ways to go, but you’re getting there. You’re not who you were in junior high, for crying out loud. Don’t hold who you were as a teen against yourself as an adult. You were fourteen when Landon died. He knew you loved him and he loved you, very much. You were still transitioning from a young girl to a young woman when Trent and Rachel happened. Let the girl from the past go. You’re twenty-one, and part of being an adult is growing up and moving forward. You’ve matured enough to recognize your mistakes and faults. Now learn from them and grow.”

“But I was so—”

“Yesterday. All of it is history. Yesterday. Over and gone. You’re not the same person you were when you were ten, sixteen, maybe not even the same as last year. Stop trying to be perfect. You have help, you’ll do better, you’ve matured, and now my princess, start living your happily ever after.”

“Was that a rhyme?” She shrugs. I wrinkle my nose. “I’d need a prince for my happily ever after.”

“No.” Mom shakes her head. “You determine if you’re going to live happily ever after. You are the star of your own show. Everything depends on you, and we’re all taking our cues from you.”

“Yeah. I guess casting calls are still out on my leading man.”

“You mean who you plan to co-produce with?”

“Mom! Ew!”

Mom’s eyes go wide and she covers her mouth. “No! I didn’t mean it like that! Oh my goodness.”

We both giggle and fall into a hug. “Thank you, Mom,” I whisper into her neck.

“Please talk to us. You’re not in anyone’s shadow. And if we’ve made you feel that way, I’m so sorry. You have no idea how deeply sorry I am.”

“Knock knock!” Mom and I separate to acknowledge Alice standing in the doorway.

I wipe a stray tear from underneath my eye. “Alice, I need to apologize. I’ve been selfish and not as happy or encouraging as I should’ve been over your engagement. I’m sorry. I’m a horrible sister.”

Alice comes to Mom and me and stands next to the bed. “Denise, no. You’ve had a lot going on and Noah, in his excitement, didn’t realize he was taking away from your moment. I love you. Don’t be upset.”

“There you go again! Why do you have to be so perfect? So nice and kind?”

“Fine. For being petty, you have to design my rehearsal dinner dress.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen your sketches. I love them. Now I want my dress.” Alice raises her nose in the air, and she crosses her arms. She’s trying to portray a diva, but it’s so ridiculous coming from her.

“Stop teasing me.”

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