Page 47 of Dirty Dix

“And they’re not with David?” she asks, popping her gum.

“Of course they are. But it’s different with Dixon.”

“How so?” she questions, crossing her legs and sitting cross-legged on the edge of my bed.

“I just…you know I have skeletons in the closet,” I confess, biting my lip.

“Yes, and I wish you’d tell me what. I’ve known you since we were in diapers. I would never judge you,” she says, her voice betraying her hurt.

Mary and I have been inseparable since I was five years old, and we were next-door neighbors. Even when my mom remarried and we moved, Mary and I remained BFFs, and we promised never to allow anything to come between us. So far, we’ve both stuck to our word.

But my secret isn’t just “anything.” It’s life-changing, and I will do anything to spare Mary that pain.

“I know, Lamb.” I sigh, lowering my eyes. “But it’s something I just want to forget.”

“I wish you’d at least talk to someone. Maybe Dr. Dixon can help,” she jokes while I almost choke on my tongue.

“No!” I cry, shaking my head as I meet her warm eyes. “This is something I can never tell him.” I hate how vulnerable I sound.

“Whatever it is, I know it’s not your fault,” she says sympathetically. “But I just know your wicked stepsister is totally to blame.”

I swallow down my nausea and reach for my slinky tank. “Ugh, can you not ruin my day by mentioning her? I haven’t seen her for two glorious months, and I hope I can push it out to six.”

“I don’t understand how she can be a product of Sebastian. I mean, he’s so nice, and she’s…”

“Such a bitch,” I mumble, filling in the blanks. “And that’s a compliment,” I add, reaching for an elastic because my long hair is suddenly pissing me off.

Mary nods and makes a grossed-out face. “I still can’t believe she’s marrying your brother.”

The hair tie goes flying across the room, and I gulp. “Yeah, well, neither can I,” I lie because I can so believe it.

“Isn’t that like incest or something?” Mary asks, and I shake my head.

“No, they’re not related by blood. My mom married Sebastian; therefore, we’re related by marriage,” I explain, really hoping she drops this, like now.

“So kinda like if Greg married Marcia? God knows it’s all about her, so the Marcia analogy suits her perfectly.”

“Yes, kinda,” I reply, trying my best to remain calm as I hunt through my garments on the floor.

“It’s still gross. I mean, Dylan is hot, but he’s your brother,” Mary says, screwing up her nose.

This conversation is making me so uncomfortable, but I nod anyway. “I know. It really is.”

“When are they getting married?” she asks, casually reaching for her bottled water.

“I’m not sure. Their engagement party is a couple of months away. They only just got engaged, so I don’t think they’ll get married right away. But who knows, itisBeth we’re talking about. You know she’ll do anything for her five minutes of fame,” I spit, glaring at the wall, too angry to face Mary in case my expression betrays me.

“Yeah, and poor Sebastian has to foot the bill,” Mary says, and I nod. “Do you think—”

I hold up my finger to stop Mary’s questioning because I don’t want to talk about this any longer.

“What about this?” I ask, holding a knee-length, blue baby-doll dress out in front of me, subtly hinting this conversation has ended.

Mary rests her cheek in her palm as she examines me. “Hmm, it kind of screams ‘date.’ I mean, it’s pretty, but what’s wrong with what you have on now?”

Looking down at my ripped blue jeans and black tee, I scrunch up my nose and pinch the hem of my top. “This? Really? It’s a little casual, isn’t it?”

“Why would that matter? It’s not a date, right?” She raises an inquisitive brow.