Page 19 of Shifted

"You googled me?" a shameless blush painted my skin as he called me out.

"I may have done a little Google... I mean, someone had to Mister off the grid. But only after I saw you at Bella and Grayson's party. I was curious as to what you do; I mean not to be rude, but nobody talks about you." He hissed, acting as if my words really stung. They were honestly meant to.

"Ouch, Hope.” I could tell they slightly hurt.

"Not in the way of what you do, just that you're there and you send your love. At Christmas, at Thanksgiving, and all other holidays. So, God forbid I want to forgo Thanksgiving because I'm not feeling well. But no, you guilt me. You guilt me when you ditched your sister and your mom for years." Before he can reply, I flee the kitchen, frustrated. I needed to breathe. Looking at the staircase, I avoid the living room and head up.

I was mad. Theo guilted me into coming when he hadn't seen his sister in years. I knew I hated him for a reason; I like to imagine I didn't hate him. He'd been annoyed with me ever since I was just 17. These halls even lacked photos of him. Slipping into the guest bedroom, I shut the door, pulling out my phone. I texted Iris, knowing there would be no response.

Hope(3:22 p.m.): Thanksgiving is a flop! I knew I wanted to stay home and have it alone- BUT NO! I get ambushed in grocery stores and get guilted for my little lie!

I sent out the text to my therapist, waiting for a response, and sank into the bed. Thanksgiving was one of the worst days of my life, and I pretend it isn’t. I love the holiday, but I do not love the memories.

When I was just 17, my parents decided they had no use for me anymore. I was just disregarded after I left them. Like I meant nothing to them, and they had no worries about me. So, as they packed the house, I packed my bags to go nowhere. I slept in a supply closet at school, showered in the girl's locker room, and continued my school day there.

During this time, I'd been blowing off Bella. We weren't as close as we are now. But having a fiery personality like hers, she was pissed off. She'd ask to hang out several times, and I'd make up an excuse. But the real reason was worrying about how I would get back inside the school.

So, after school one day, she followed me, and what she found she didn't like. It was about five in the evening, and I finally left the library. The hallways were cleared, so I made my way to the supply closet. I opened the door to see her. Her eyes were puffy as she held up a photo of me and my parents. I still loved them even after they left me. But now, as a mother, I despise them, how they could do that to their child.

But the rest was history. Arabella took me home, and the Jones family took me in. That first Thanksgiving was the day we fought, and they basically kicked me out when I said I was leaving. I slept on the steps of our home that now had a for-sale sign slapped onto it. It was freezing, and I was cold. So I sat through the day in pain, the day my parents just packed their bags and started their life without me.

I tried to reach out to my older sister, Taryn. But nothing, she didn't care. The only reply I received was, “Stop contacting me.” It showed how drastically different we were. Though nine years apart, I would've taken my little sister in.

A knock interrupts my thoughts, and the door cracks open to Bella. "Did my brother piss you off?"

"As usual." She smiled, closed the door behind her, and made herself comfortable at the edge of the bed, "He shamed me for wanting to be alone today and guilt-tripped me about lying to you… what happened to the butter?”

“Joely needed another hand in that puzzle, so no backup butter.” I laughed as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay? I mean, I kind of got the vibe that you really weren't going to Lucas's house in Vermont. But I didn't know why you were avoiding us. Is it Grayson because we are engaged?" she asked, and I couldn’t help but laugh again as she began to ramble.

"No, absolutely not; I adore Grayson. I've just been thinking about today, well, today, eight years ago. I just wonder what they are doing, you know?" Her eyes narrow at me. Probably in disappointment, she hated all of my relatives. In fact, she cursed them for how they treated me when I was still just a kid myself.

"Probably wondering what you're doing. I bet they think about you and how it's their loss. Look at you, Hope. You graduated high school, got your pre-law degree, went to law school, and passed the bar while pregnant! You became a lawyer while being a mother at the same time." Her eyes began to well up as she reached for my hand.

"Fuck my parents." She nodded in agreement.

"Fuck your parents" She smiles.

"Now we have a meal to prepare and wine to drink! And that blueberry pie." She said in a sing-song voice, leaning into me. I was never truly alone with Bella; she was my family and had been for years. That’s just the way that it was.

“I’m thankful for you, Arabella. I’m so thankful.”

CHAPTER SIX

Hope Taylor

Four years ago

"You really think I should be here?" He placed his hand behind my back, nodding, ignoring my worries. A place like this with gowns and cards was not my scene, but yet here I was, "It's a poker game; I have no poker face. In fact, I don't even know how to play the game." My chances of being good at poker are slim to none, not that I'm not up for a challenge. But more so, I know this is one I will not win.

His hand slowly glides down the back of my dress, just resting above my butt. "You won't be playing; in fact, I need a good luck charm. Lucky for me, it looks good in red." I glared at him; he knew what he was doing.

"Oh… So you’re using me for distraction?" We followed behind the crowd of couples in lengthy dresses and suits. The house we entered was modern with Parisian elements. We entered a room filled with tables laced with green carpets, cards, and chips. Then, we were approached by a bulky man with sunglasses who looked like he wanted to kill one of us.

"Names?" He asks.

"Pierre and Elena Donahue?" He scanned his tablet and nodded, letting us continue.

"If only you could do a French accent, then maybe you'd get lucky tonight," I whispered.

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