Page 7 of The Facade

Because if Fate was real, so far I wasn’t a fan of her interference in my life. In fact, if I was to meet Fate someday, I was pretty sure I’d punch her in the face and tell her to mess with someone else’s life since my family had had enough of her interfering ways.

But Nash must not have known about the beef I had with Fate right now because he just shrugged and said, “Why not? Makes sense that Ava’s twin would be attracted to a similar look as her sister.”

And yet, I was pretty sure Elyse had had a crush on me until last week. And I couldn’t look more different from my blond-haired, blue-eyed friends.

“I guess we’ll just have to see if this play goes the way you hope. Who knows, maybe Fate will interfere, and Miss Crawley will put someone else as the lead.”

Nash’s jaw dropped, and ever the dramatic, he put a hand to his chest and said, “How dare you speak such blasphemy in my presence.”

Yeah, Nash was a weirdo when he got into character.

I shrugged. “I’m just saying it might be a good idea to have a backup plan in case things don’t go your way.”

I had certainly learned that if anything was sure in life, it was that you could make all sorts of plans for how your life was going to go but you better be prepared to come up with a whole new set of plans at a moment’s notice because sometimes all it took, like in my mom’s case, was a really bad headache or a seizure to change your life forever.

Feeling my chest tighten as my mind started to think about what was coming for my family in the next months, I drew in a deep breath and tried to bring myself back to the present moment.

Tried to remind myself that as long as my parents were still seeking treatments, it meant there was still a chance of my mom watching my basketball games this year or seeing me graduate in June.

Cambrielle’s room was decorated in light pinks and golds. I stepped inside, hoping it would help my overwhelming thoughts disappear. Cambrielle’s decorating tastes were definitely a lot more girly and whimsical than my black and white room at home, but I’d always felt a sense of calm in here.

After staying in Cambrielle’s room for a few nights and receiving the best night’s sleep I’d had in the months before and several weeks since, I came up with the theory that just like how some humans had comfort animals, this place served as my comfort room—a sanctuary of sorts. Every time I stepped into her room, a sense of calm would come over me—like a shelter from the anxiety that usually plagued my mind way more often than I’d like these days.

I was just laying myself along the foot of Cambrielle’s bed when Mrs. Hastings’ voice sounded over the intercom system. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Please come down before it gets cold.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Nash said as he lifted himself out of the cozy, cream-colored chair that I’d enjoyed sitting in on those few nights Cambrielle had let me stay over. “I’ve been craving Marie’s sweet pork burritos all day.”

“Me too,” I said as I rolled onto my back, about to get up from Cambrielle’s queen-sized, four-poster bed.

But once Nash left the room and was out of earshot, I couldn’t resist teasing Cambrielle a little. I rolled back onto my side, propped my head on my hand, and looked at Cambrielle with a half-smile on my lips. “Your bed sure is comfortable.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her expression wary as if she was worried about where I might be going with this.

“Yeah.” I smoothed my palm along the ripples of her white comforter. “I mean, I only lay down on Ian’s bed for a minute before coming in here, but I can’t help but feel that as your family’s special guest, it’s only right that I stay in the most comfortable bed in the house.”

“And you think that’s my bed?” Cambrielle raised an eyebrow.

“Definitely.” I moved up so I could lie back against the stack of throw pillows she had at the head of her bed. “I think you should trade me.”

“What?” She pulled her head back in surprise.

“I know how much you pride yourself on being a good hostess,” I said, placing my hands behind my head as I leaned back even farther. “And we don’t even need to make a big fuss about it to the rest of your family. Your room and Ian’s room share a balcony, right? We could just use that to do the switcheroo and no one would be the wiser.”

“But I like my bed,” Cambrielle said. “And my room.”

“Me too,” I said, glancing around at the feminine decor. “I’ve actually been considering having my room done the same way.”

“You want a pink and gold bedroom with frilly throw pillows and white furniture?”

“It’s nice.” I shrugged. “And we already know how well I sleep in your room.” I winked.

Her cheeks flushed, and I loved the way the slightest mention of those few forbidden nights caused her to get in a tizzy.

She looked toward her open door, as if checking to make sure no one was there, and then in a hushed tone she whispered, “You need to stop saying things like that. Everyone’s going to find out about what we did, and then we’ll get in huge trouble.”

“But nothing happened,” I said, matter-of-factly. “And everyone knows you like Ben and that nothing would ever happen between us.”

Her eyes widened in a warning look, like she was still worried someone might hear our conversation from all the way downstairs.

---