Page 13 of Enemies to Prom Dates
Making my way up the rounded central staircase to the second floor I veered left toward my room. If we sold this house…when we sold this house…we would never be able to afford anything as grand. Most likely I would have to share a room with Mary. Assuming we could hold off long enough until Star was in college.
Also assuming we could figure out a way to pay for Star to go to college.
I sighed and tried not to think too far into the future. Despite having an inglorious morning, the day hadn’t turned out so bad. I’d pissed off Fitz, hung out with my friends, and got the okay to pick up some shifts at The Club. I wasn’t going to worry about anything beyond that.
I heard my phone ding, and I took it out of the front pocket of my schoolbag. I flopped onto my queen-size canopy bed. Not my taste at all, but Mom had had all the bedrooms professionally decorated by an interior designer.
Glancing down at my phone, I smiled at the text somewhat evilly.
Fitz:Did you really sign up for Spanish?
Me:You’ve been thinking about that all day haven’t you?
Yes, of course we had each other’s cell numbers. Basically our contact list was the entire junior and most of the senior class. That’s how it worked in a small town with a small high school. You knew everyone. Everyone knew you. Contact with your enemies was just a way to keep tabs on them.
Fitz:I admit nothing. There’s no way you can fit it in. I checked.
Me:I have my ways. Stop concerning yourself withmycourse load.
Fitz:Fine. Burn yourself out. Whatever. Gi said she drove home with your sisters. I don’t approve.
Me:With my sisters? Or the fact that your sister drove home with Wick?
Fitz:Either. Both. Tell them to stay away from Gi.
I harrumphed in outrage. My sisters were nearly as ridiculous as my mother but only I got to think that.
Me:Tell your sister to stay away from them!
Fitz:I have. She says they’re funny. Silly is more like it.
Me:Yes. They’re fourteen-year-old girls. They’re allowed to be silly. Including Gi.
Fitz:I prefer people with more sense. And let’s face it, Star aside, you’re the only one who has any in your entire family. When is your father coming home anyway?
Me:He’s on sabbatical. Taking some time for himself. But he misses us dearly and calls every day.
I winced. That sounded too practiced. I mean, itwasbut Fitz was no fool.
There was a pause and I watched dots start and stop. Start and stop.
Shit, I thought. He knew. Or at least thought he knew. No doubt he was concluding my parents were separated. Which technically they were. No one knew just how separated.
Fitz:Does he know about your job at The Club?
Me:Of course. My father believes in hard work. He says it’s character building. You should try it sometime.
Fitz:You’re suggesting I have no character?
Me:I wouldn’t know since it’s never actually been put to the test. What do you think Fitz? Could you stoop so low as to actually pick up someone else’s used dish? Or are you above that?
Fitz:I would only do it, if it needed to be done. You’re not just learning Spanish are you?
I dropped the phone as if it had scorched me. It was a strange thing to be so well known to your sworn enemy. Like he could see inside my head. Make assumptions based on my actions because he knew deep down who I was.
I had to respond. I couldn’t leave it at that. He would consider it a victory if I didn’t answer. I needed something shocking. Something he wouldn’t expect.
Me:You got me. It’s not just the Spanish. I’m also having a super-hot affair with Javier, the bartender. He likes to take me in the storage closet during breaks and…well use your imagination. Bye Fitz.
