Page 30 of Merciless

“Jeez. I’ll have to return that maid-of-honor dress I got last week,” she said sarcastically.

“Who made you a maid of honor?” I was kidding of course. If I was ever to be married, she would no doubt be exactly that.

“Please,” she dragged. “I’m your only option.”

A whistle startled me. The football practice was over. Coach Howard was yelling at someone. Lucas was talking to Chase. They had their helmets on, and I couldn’t see his face. But it wasn’t a big deal. I was now living with the guy. His face would be there when I wake up in the morning and when I go to sleep at night. If I manage to fall asleep in that house.

“Let’s go buy some clothes,” Hannah said, leaving the Dylan conversation unfinished.

Two hours later, I got back to my new home, carrying too many shopping bags. I was feeling restless, so I overspent. Not that my father would care.

While paying for a pair of jeans my mother wouldn’t like with my father’s credit card, a thought of withdrawing his money to replace my now gone savings crossed my mind. Maybe not all at once, but I had to buy everything a person needed. Everything. All he got me was a new phone. I needed clothes, underwear, shoes, new books for school, for fuck’s sake, I didn’t even have a tooth brush that wasn’t gifted to me. How could he ever figure out? It would be so easy.

But I hated the thought of using his money. I wanted to do it on my own. Prove everyone I could live without them. And even though they might never figure out I used his money, I would know, and that would not help me feel free or capable.

“Do you need help?” Elizabeth rushed to my side and took some of the bags.

“I think I overdid it,” I laughed nervously. I didn’t think what it would look like in her eyes. Yesterday, I wanted to leave, and, today, I came back with personal belongings to fill up my entire room.

We went upstairs, and Elizabeth looked way too excited while peeking in the shopping bags.

“God, you really are bored, aren’t you?” I smiled.

“For you I must be like a thousand-year-old, but I’m still a woman. The only girl clothes I’m buying are my own and they’re nothing like these…,” she pulled what I called a piss-your-mother-off dress. First of all, it was black, and my mother hated black. She only wore it to funerals just because she cared what other people thought of her. Second of all, it was barely covering my ass and breasts.

I didn’t really care so much about the clothes, but I cared deeply about disturbing my mother. Was it weird I tried doing that even when she was not around to see my rebellion?

“Just don’t make me try them,” I pleaded. “Hannah pushed all my buttons and I have zero patience left in me.”

Elizabeth went through the bags, and I noticed a laptop on my bed. It was turned on.

“What is this?”

“Oh, I wanted to show you my friend, the one I told you about. The designer. Check him out and tell me what you think.”

I sat on the bed and took the laptop in my lap. Ten minutes later, I knew I wanted to be mentored by this guy. He was the real deal. I had no other connections in the industry. This could be my only shot of ever knowing someone that successful. I could really become someone with his guidance.

I placed the laptop back on the bed and stared at Elizabeth, “Do you think he will agree to help me?”

“Do you want him to help you?” she asked, surprised. She thought I was going to say no. And I probably should have.

“Yes,” I decided to be honest.

“I’ll call him then.”

And that was it. Lucas came back home later that evening and acted as if I wasn’t even there. Just like he promised. He talked, and laughed, and was his regular self. Or at least what I thought he was normally like. It made me think we could pull it off. Living under the same roof without killing each other. Without bringing painful memories back. But as I was looking at his smile from across the table and felt butterflies every time I heard his throaty laughter, I had the gut feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Chapter Ten

Lucas

A week passed since my mother brought Clementine Hartley home, and I had to admit to myself I had a new entertainment, and I was loving it.

Clementine rolled eyes, lifted eyebrows, huffed, and shook her head All.The.Time. I also noticed she crossed her arms in front of her chest quite often. Mostly when I was talking. I was doing a good job intimidating her, and I wasn’t even trying.

I also got to notice exactly what triggered those other gestures. Our family routines. Oh, and every general sense of happiness.

I heard Clementine arguing with my mother on her first morning home. She wanted to skip the breakfast. I was sure it had everything to do with me and my outburst the previous day, but I didn’t really care. I was surprised, however, that mom won the argument, and Clem was now reluctantly eating her breakfast with the family every single morning.

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