Page 77 of Screw it Up

“You didn’t get the texts? They must have gone to your message requests. Bex invited us to her grandparents’ farm.”

I blink several times. Bex. Horses. I’d completely forgotten about that part ofthatSunday, given everything that had happened after.

“She did?”

Violet nods. “Yeah, I told her I’d check with you. You already don’t check your normal inbox much, so I figured there was little chance of you getting those. If you want in, she’s picking us up in an hour. Rhys made pancakes. Hurry if you want any bacon!”

With a parting wave, she bounces downstairs.

I check my phone while brushing my teeth, and feel my cheeks flushing.

There’s a new group message stared yesterday.

Unknown: Sorry for the last-minute warning! I was knee deep into schoolwork, but I just finished my chem paper. I need a break—we can go up to the farm tomorrow if you’re game?

Violet: OMG, yes. If I have to sit down to another math tutoring session from Rhys this weekend, I’ll murder my husband.

Unknown: Cool! Let’s drive up together? No point using up more gas than necessary.

Violet: Saving the planet, one girly road trip at the time!

Unknown: You think Sarah wants to come?

Violet: Probably? I doubt she saw the texts, I’ll check in with her.

I quickly shot back a reply:

Me: I’m sorry, I just saw this! I can’t freaking wait. :Dhorse emoji

I love my hikes, but a visit to a stable sounds like a hell of a lot more fun.

After a quick shower, I’m standing in front of my wardrobe, biting down on my lip in frustration.

I don’t even want to open the pile of clothes I’ve shoved in a trash bag at the corner of the large, mostly empty wardrobe. I don’t know which ones are fitted with spy cams, and until I can figure it out, those clothes are off-limits. But I don’t have much. A couple of dresses I bought that first week just to have some stuff to wear, and those Marius got me. I think back to Violet’s getup. None seem appropriate for a farm visit.

With a sigh, I put on one of Marius’s dresses, and make my way downstairs.

Violet is holding up a fork, defending a single plate of bacon against both Louis and Rom when I walk into the kitchen.

“Here you are! Quick. I don’t know how long I can keep your bacon safe.”

The massive cat’s paw swipes at the plate. His owner only chuckles.

I hop on a stool in front of the breakfast bar, smiling at Violet gratefully. “Thanks. But it’s just not worth it. I don’t have enough pairs of shoes to piss Louis off.”

I relinquish a rasher of bacon to the feline, who immediately snatches it up and runs away to eat in peace.

“And me?” Roman pouts.

I shrug, eating my second slice. “You’re not going to pee in my shoes. Presumably.”

“I mean, I could?”

“You could also cook more bacon,” Rhys retorts with an eye roll.

I help myself to pancakes, turning to Violet. “Do you think I can go dressed like this? I don’t have any pairs of pants.”

Even if it wasn’t for my current predicament, I would likely not own anything horse-riding appropriate: pants tend to either be too big for my waist, hanging down uselessly, or too tight for my ass. I have leggings, but I don’t like to wear them in public.

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