“Honeymoon. St. Lucia or maybe it was Bali. I don’t know.” She shrugs.
“Well, when will they be back?” I ask with crossed arms.
“Two months,” Bartlett responds as she takes the pancake out of the pan and slaps it onto a plate before covering it in butter and syrup.
I watch her with scrutiny. My god, she has no style whatsoever, no class, and apparently no consideration for calories.
Wait.
“Two months? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“How should I know, Brenton? I thought daddy’s special little girl would know everything,” she sneers.
Her words grate me like nails on a chalkboard, and it takes everything in me not to physically react to them.
“Cool, so I’m stuck with just you for the whole summer. Awesome,” I scoff.
“Isn’t it?” She snarks as she cuts a piece of pancake and stabs it with her fork.
“Whatever. Just stay the fuck out of my way and I’ll pretend you don’t exist, okay?”
“The best plan I’ve ever heard,” she says as she plops the food into her mouth, speaking as she chews.
Disgusting.
Turning on my heel, I head back towards my room as I call out to her.
“And if you wake me up before eleven again I’ll fucking kill you!”
“I’d like to see you try,” she calls back to me.
Fucking bitch.
* * *
After going to the gym and getting lunch, I decided to go to the spa with Mercy Lewis and Angela Stroughton. I wouldn’t exactly call them my friends because in Salem, no one is really your friend, especially when you aren’t a Legacy. We hang out often, though, and they are semi-tolerable, so…sure, we can use the word friends, I suppose.
“So, how is it going with your new stepsister?” Mercy asks with a wicked smile.
I narrow my eyes at her. Little snake knows exactly how it’s going. She just enjoys reveling in my misery. Maybe frenemy is a more accurate term for her.
“Oh, fabulous.” I mock as an employee comes over to begin my pedicure.
“She seems to keep to herself. I’m sure you’ll forget she’s even there,” Angela says.
So sweet and naïve. Such a sharp contrast from her big brother. Don’t we all attempt to be, though? At least she’s a Legacy. I mean, her family is. Her father is an Elder, and Jeremy is a Legacy. Women don’t earn titles in the Brethren, but still, better than nothing.
Angela’s brother has a future, power. My brother wastes his life away smoking weed and playing video games. He moved out when he was eighteen and got an apartment across town so Dad couldn’t breathe down his neck every five seconds. It didn’t deter him at first until I turned thirteen. Then his attention shifted, and he saw me as his only chance at having a child worth being proud of. I fucking hate my brother for leaving all the pressure on me.
Mercy’s fingers are flying across her phone as she speaks.
“Your parents are out of town, right?” she asks.
“My father is out of town with his new wife, yes.” I correct. “For two months.”
That pulls her attention as Angela’s mouth parts.
“Oh my god.”