Page 390 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“You just did, Harper. If it wasn’t for me, she’d be dead.”

“I told her to wait!”

“Just shut up and bring me a towel.”

With a strangled yell, I pivot and stalk into the pool room.

Jude doesn’t look up at me when I shove a towel in his direction. “Here.”

“You know you’re not allowed to swim without adult supervision,” Jude’s telling his sister, and my stomach turns over at the steel in Jude’s voice. He wraps her up in the towel, and her sobs start drying up.

Rosie shakes her head, sending droplets flying into the air. “But Harper?—”

Jude’s black eyes swivel up to me. “Harper isn’t an adult.”

I scowl at him. “I didn’t mean?—”

“Not in the least interested,” he mutters, scooping Rosie into his arms.

Then they’re gone, and I’m left standing beside the pool like an idiot.

Suddenly, I’m not tired anymore.

Suddenly, I can’t stop thinking about the multi-colored bottles of alcohol in the pool house bar. Hands in fists, I charge back to the pool house.

I know what’ll put me to sleep. A big glass of wine.

Chapter 13

Jude

I dry Rosie and dress her in warm clothes before taking her into the TV room and putting on her favorite movie. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what just happened as I head to the kitchen to make Rosie some hot chocolate.

What the fuck is wrong with Harper? She wasliterallyjust standing there, watching my sister drown. I make a mess on the counter when I shove a mug of milk into the microwave to warm it up, and absently wipe it up with a cloth.

Christ, I’ve been telling Dad since we moved in that we need to put a fence around that pool. I don’t care if it lowers the selling price, and he shouldn’t either. Same story with the damn CO2 sensors. I mean, after what happened with Mom, you’d think safety would be his first concern.

Fuck it. If he won’t, then I will. I know where he keeps his checkbook.

The microwave beeps. I tip a packet of hot chocolate mix into the steaming milk, and glare at the clumps that bob up. They refuse to disintegrate, no matter how much I stir.

When I get back to the TV room, Rosie’s asleep and sucking her thumb. I grab a throw and drape it over her. Her cheek is ice-cold when I press my knuckles to her face, but she’ll warm up soon enough.

I take a sip of her lumpy hot chocolate as I stare down at Rosie’s angelic face. She’s just as stubborn and determined as I am. I don’t doubt she went to the pool by herself—she did it once with my father too. But Harper should know better. Then again, she’s probably never had to be responsible for someone other than herself. I bet her days were spent doing whatever the fuck she wanted, her doting mother taking care of everything.

Polar opposite frommychildhood. I’ve been taking care of Rosie since she was born; Dad never really knew how to handle her and Mom was always busy with work. Now things have gone from bad to worse.

Taking the hot chocolate with me—I’ll make Rosie a fresh cup when she wakes up—I head upstairs. My bedroom door slams closed, and I stare at it for a second.

I’ve got to relax. Nothing good has ever come from me losing my temper. Harper, Rosie, Diana—I want to shake them until their teeth rattle and then yell at them that the world isn’t a play park full of carousels and crazy fucking teacup rides.

People get hurt. Theydie.

I fall into the seat by my study desk and glare at my silhouette on the dark monitor. I should have gone with Rosie to the pool. My assignment could have waited for half an hour. But all I can think about is Cornell, and sometimes it seems like I can’t get there fast enough. I need the world to know that I’m not just a dumb jock.

I need to focus, but it seems impossible when Harper is right next door. Maybe I should move into the pool house for a bit. That would stop Harper sneaking in there to do God knows what all the time. Like she thought I wouldn’t see her yesterday?

There isn’t even a TV in there.

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