Page 47 of Promise Me Nothing
I continue to sip my own drink slowly, and choose to stay fairly silent for the rest of the evening, just observing Lucas and Paige interact with their friends.
I glance back at the other table a few times. I can see them looking at me as they talk.
This is why I don’t gossip. Why I don’t like to sit around and talk shit about people. Because it means the second I leave, they’re going to keep doing it, but this time, it’ll be about me.
People talk shit. I can’t control that. But I can control what I say, and what I listen to.
And this is my lesson. This is my one smack over the head to remind me that I don’t have to sit and listen to stuff like that. It doesn’t feel good. It feels manipulative and aggressive and angry. It feels like it’s filled with jealousy and bitchiness.
Those things aren’t me. And if I’m going to finally find my own place in this world, I have to stay me, even if that means I stick out here.
Eventually, someday, I’ll find the place I fit.
CHAPTER TEN
Wyatt
I wake up to a small hand poking me in the face.
Squinting, I peek open one eye and spot Ivy sitting on the edge of the bed with a smile.
I close my eyes again.
“I know you’re awake, weirdo,” she says, poking me again.
I pull my hands out from under the comforter.Then why are you poking me?
She giggles and I peek an eye open so I can see her.Because it’s after ten in the morning and you’re still in bed.
She sets her hands on my chest and starts shoving and shaking me until I’m flopping around like I’m having a seizure.
“Alright, alright.” I open an eye again.What can I do for you, your highness?I sign, doing a little wave with my hands.
She laughs again.
I wanna go see Ben. Can we do that and get lunch there today? I’m in the mood for some cheesy pretzels.
I smile. Any day that Ivy is in the mood to see our brotherandfill up her tiny frame with some food is a good day.
That sounds like something I can definitely make happen.
Yay! Okay, I’ll go get ready.And then she’s sprinting out of my room and out of the guesthouse, to do god knows what.
I roll over and push my face back against the pillows, wishing I could have gotten just one more precious hour of sleep.
Especially after the last few days.
I should have known when I came back and things with my mother were so easy that first night that it was too good to be true. That her previous promises of a quiet family summer at home were bullshit attempts at something I have no interest in.
As real and open as she was with me when I first got home, the woman just can’t help herself. Even in the wake of our family’s troubles, even with the very scary shit storm headed our way, she still wants to showboat and schmooze with the socialites of Hermosa Beach.
After I got back Friday night, I woke up Saturday morning to my mother standing over me in bed, that plastic mask back on her face, letting me know I’d be attending a fundraising dinner with her and Ivy at the marina.
She didn’t care that I might not want to go.
She didn’t care thatIvymight not want to go.
All she cared about was the fact that it was a Calloway Foundation event and that dad couldn’t be the only one getting the attention for something helping the community.
