Page 451 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

What the fuck is this? Just because she missed roll call and didn’t go to any of her classes doesn’t mean she’s not at school.She’s not fucking missing—she’s probably in some hidey-hole at school, drunk out of her mind.

I just wish she had her phone on her so they could track it and find her.

“She’ll turn up,” I say, slapping Rosie’s sandwich closed and cutting it into quarters. She’s silent on her stool, her eyes so big it looks like they’re going to pop out of her face.She always does this in a crisis. I guess it’s her way of coping. When I slide her plate in front of her, she doesn’t even seem to register that it’s there.

But Dad already has his phone out, and I’m pretty sure it’s the sheriff’s office he’s dialing.Diana is moving through the open-plan ground floor of our house like she’s hunting for clues.

“I’m going to my room,” I mutter, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the way. “Let me know when she shows up.”

I’m not even halfway up the stairs when I hear Diana yell, “Wayne! Wayne!”

Christ, took them long enough.

I trot back downstairs and out into the pool area. Diana has her hands pressed to her chest, staring down at the glittering shards of glass from the broken pool house window. Wayne puts his hands on his hips, turning to me with a grim look on his face.

“What...” I trail off and try to act surprised when I see the glass. “That wasn’t there yesterday.”

“You didn’t see what happened?” my dad asks.

“I’ve been in my room the whole day.”

“Rosie didn’t go for a swim today?”

No. I made a point of that.

“We were watching a movie.” I don’t have to pretend that he’s pissing me off. “Why the hell are you interrogating me? I didn’t run away!”

“You think she ran away?” Diana snorts. “Why would she do that? It doesn’t make?—”

“Enough, Diana.” Dad’s eyes cut through me. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

As if that’s not exactly what they’ve been doing this whole time. “It must have been Harper.”

“What?” Diana says. “That makes no sense! Why would she?—”

I walk past them and push open the door. Then I wave a hand toward the bar. “When last did you do inventory? Because I’m pretty sure there’ll be less than you remember.”

Wayne and Diana stare at me like I’ve grown horns. Just shows how little attention they’ve been paying. I’ve had them for a while, ever since Harper moved in.

“You didn’t know she was alcoholic?” I cross my arms and shake my head. “Huh. Guess you guys were too busy with other things.”

Dad looks like he’s about to throttle me—or have a heart attack. I’m not quite sure. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?” he growls.

“You believe him?” Diana says, grabbing my dad’s sleeve and trying to turn him to face me.

He shrugs her off without looking. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since she moved in.” I cut my eyes to Diana. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” Diana steps forward, but Dad grabs her shoulders and pulls her back before she can enter the pool house.

“Go upstairs,” he says. “I’ll handle this.”

Diana points a shaking finger at me. “But he’s?—”

“Diana.”

My stepmother’s arm drops, and her throat moves as she forces a hard swallow. “Your son is out of control.”

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