Page 132 of Worthy

Lost in Her

Harleigh Beck

Prologue

Melanie

I throw my black Metallica T-shirt into my suitcase with too much force, then do the same with my destroyed black jeans.

I tuned out my father’s constant nagging a long time ago. He’s always on my fucking case.

“Do better, Melanie. You’re not even trying. This phase you’re going through needs to stop.”

I whirl on him. “It’s not a fucking phase, Dad!”

His eyes fall down my black clothing, and he snorts with disapproval as he drags his hand over his beard. Ever since Mom died, he looks at me as if it pains him to see her in me. Maybe that’s why I try so damn hard to erase the evidence of her in the shape of my almond eyes by lining them with kohl. Or the soft curve of my lips with a thick layer of purple lipstick. Before I started dyeing my hair black, I had the same angel-blonde hair as her, too. Our similarities are why Dad can’t look at me without that pained look in his eyes. He tries to hide it, but I’m not blind.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” he says after a while, as if the fight has left him. His shoulders slump, and I almost feel bad when he directs his gaze to the window. My dad and I, we’re a cliché. I’m a broken teenager who refuses to let anyone close, and my father doesn’t know how to relate to me. I’m an alien species to him. A hormonal teenage girl with a large ‘stay the fuck out’ sign on the door.

“Your grades are failing, and you treat your stepmom like shit.” His eyes return to me. “Not to mention your sister.”

Turning my back on him, I zip up my suitcase. “She’s not my sister.”

“Stepsister, then.”

I don’t reply. What’s there to say anyway? Not only did Mom die in that car crash, but Dad couldn’t marry his new wife fast enough.

Don’t get me started on Jessica, my new stepsister. She’s everything I’m not and an even bigger cliché. Not only is she a popular cheerleader, but she also dates the quarterback, Jaxon. My dad idolizes the ground he walks on. It’s sickening.

“Look…” My dad pauses, waiting for me to turn around. I don’t. “This family trip could be a good thing for us. You’ll get to know Jessica better. Maybe you two have more in common than you think.”

Laughter climbs up my throat as I push past him to pick up my phone from the nightstand.

He’s delusional if he thinks Jessica and I will magically bond on this trip. As far as I’m concerned, her mom killed mine. If it weren’t for her mom, mine wouldn’t have turned to the bottle that night when she found out about the affair.

She also wouldn’t have gotten in her car.

My throat clogs up at the thought.

I swipe the screen to distract myself, then open up a text message from my only friend, Amanda.

Amanda:Send me lots of pics of Norway. I’m fucking jealous!

I used to be popular, but I pushed everyone away after Mom died. Amanda, however, refused to let me retreat into myself. I’m grateful that she’s still here, even if I hate her for it sometimes. Grief is a lonely place.

Dad gives up on trying to get through to me. He watches me for a moment longer while I pretend to be busy with my phone.

“We’re setting off in half an hour.”

The door clicks shut, and I lower my phone and stare at the suitcase on my bed. Outside my window, the sun desperately tries to filter through the thick clouds. Winter is finally here after a long, hot summer. It’s my favorite time of the year. I like the dark nights and the bare trees that sway in the icy breeze.

Just then, the sound of feminine giggles in the room next door catches my attention. Jaxon is here, making the most of this last half an hour with his girlfriend. We’re only going away for a week, but you’d think we were emigrating with how mushy they’ve been.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth to listen to them through the thin wall.

I reach for the knife I always carry with me and place it in the back of my jeans, hidden beneath my zip-up hoodie. If anyone ever comes for me, I won’t hesitate to use it.

Chapter one

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