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Havoc:Mayhem Series #4(65)

By:Jamie Shaw


"They were broken up," I tell my mom, and myself.

Danica overhears me and presses her hands against the table, leaning  forward to better scream in my face. "You made him fall in love with  you!"

My brother squeals giddily, and my uncle groans and rubs a line between  his eyes. "Is this why you wanted to go to Mayfield?" he asks Danica,  and her face transforms into a mask of vulnerability.

"I love him, Daddy!"

My uncle rubs his eyes, and Danica points a finger at me.

"She slept with him behind my back!"

With my face blushing beet-red, I say, "Never while you were together . . ."

My dad's cheeks flush to match mine, and my brother throws his head back and laughs hysterically.

"Dad," Danica pleads, "I don't want her living with me. I can't see them  together." Tears flood her eyes, and I can't tell if they're real or  forced, but her father's face softens, and I know what's coming.

This is the moment. This is the moment when he tells me he won't support  me any longer, and that I'll have to move back home with my parents. I  won't, of course-I'll move in with Mike. But school will have to wait,  and so will the dream I've had since Oliver Twist.

"Hailey," he says, his deep voice drying my throat, "isn't there some  kind of . . . girl code or something, about dating a family member's  boyfriend?"

Unable to deny it, I nod my head. "Yes." I look at Danica, at the angry  tears in her eyes, and I say what I've been wanting to say since the  moment I realized I'd fallen for her boyfriend. "I'm sorry. I never  meant to fall in love with him."

My dad nods and smacks his hand against the table. "Well, there you have  it," he says, a simple man with a simple solution. I almost hate saying  what I need to say next.

"I'm not going to stop seeing him though . . ." I look from my dad's  disappointed expression to my uncle's. "I'm sorry about the way things  happened-I never meant to fall for Dani's ex-but I'm not giving him up. I  tried, and it felt like I'd ripped my heart out of my chest." My eyes  swing to my mom, to the sympathetic look she's giving me. "He's the  sweetest, kindest, most amazing man I've ever met. He loves me more than  anyone could ever deserve, and I want to spend the rest of my life with  him."

It's a big thing to say. And I realize that as I'm saying it. And every word of it is true.

"I want her gone," Danica cries while her mom rubs her back. "I just want her out of my life. I want her gone so I can move on."

My uncle sighs heavily as he stares at what's left of the turkey at the  center of the table. He stares, and he stares. "We'll talk about it  after dinner," he decides.                       
       
           



       

"What's there to talk about?" Danica shrieks, and my uncle's voice hardens.

"Danica, we'll discuss it after dinner."

"There's nothing to discuss! She's horrible, Daddy! She ruined my life!"

My uncle Rick groans and sets his fork back on his plate for the second  time. "That boy called you a thousand times after you broke up. You  haven't mentioned him for years. Why would you want him back now?"

I hold my tongue, but my brother doesn't.

"He got a big recording contract with the biggest label there is," he  volunteers with his mouth full of stuffing. It might as well be popcorn,  with the way he's shoving it into his mouth and watching the show.  "He's famous now."

My uncle and aunt frown at Danica, and she completely falls apart. "That  has nothing to do with it," she sobs, but her parents continue studying  her.

I hate that I can't tell if her tears are genuine or not. I don't know  whether to feel sorry or angry. I wish I could fix her-this broken thing  that she grew into.

"Hailey," my uncle finally says, and I tear my eyes from Danica, holding  a deep breath in preparation for what's coming. "You're going to need  to move out."

"I understand," I say, avoiding the looks my parents are giving me. I  can't bear to see the disappointment on their faces. I hope one day  they'll understand. They loved the farm, and they never left it. I love  Mike, and I'll never leave him.

Their happiness is a place, but mine is a drummer with warmth in his eyes and sparks in his smile.

"I'll make some calls," my uncle adds, "and see if I can get you into the dorms."

My heart hurtles over a beat as I stare at him, wondering if I really  heard what I think I just heard, and Danica's anger slices across the  table.

"What? No! Dad! She doesn't deserve it!"

"I'm sorry you're upset, honey," my uncle Rick says, and Danica's hands  start shaking. "But you two are adults, and you'll have to work it out.  I'm not going to pull anyone out of school over some boy."

"You're just going to keep paying for her to finish? After what she did  to me?" Danica yells, and the unmoved look on my uncle Rick's face  confirms it. I don't know what to think, or what to feel, so I sit there  with my heart pounding violently against my ribs.

"I HATE YOU!" Danica screams at me, pushing her chair back viciously as she rises to her feet. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

"Danica," her mom pleads, but Danica storms from the room. She leaves us  sitting there in awkward silence, with everyone looking from me to my  uncle and back again.

He sighs, and then he picks up his fork for the third time and holds it  as he contemplates his food. His eyes drift to my plate, and he calmly  says, "Eat your turkey, Hailey."

I pick up my fork. And for the first time in eight years, I eat my turkey.





Chapter 51




During one family dinner when I was a teenager, two of our horses broke  out of their stables to get their freak on literally right outside of  our dining room window, and that family dinner was still not as awkward  as this one. The conversation turns to weather, business, school-all  sorts of normal, safe things . . . while my mentally unstable cousin  sits upstairs in her room probably planning how she's going to disfigure  and dismember me without getting caught.

I hand-wash the china after dinner, and my brother dries the dishes,  mostly, I suspect, so that I don't get butcher-knifed in the back while  I'm standing at the sink. He asks me if Mike and I will get married, and  he points out that if we do, Mike will be his big brother. I tell him  not to get his hopes up since I'm pretty sure Danica is upstairs taking  out a hit on me as we speak.

I wash dishes until there's nothing left to wash. And then I wipe down  the counters. And then I sweep the floors. And then . . . I hide like a  coward in the powder room. Sitting on the closed toilet, I pull my phone  out and text Rowan and Dee and tell them what happened.

Dee: OH MY GOD HELL YES

Rowan: YAY!!!!

Me: I feel sick.                       
       
           



       

Dee: What's the evil bitch doing now?

Me: Probably plotting my death. I need to get out of here. Any chance you guys are close to Downingtown?

Dee: No. We're up near Fairview.

Rowan: Hold on, I'm texting Leti and Kale. I think they're at Kale and Kit's parents' place.





I chew on my thumbnail and tap my foot against the stone floor for just a few seconds before another text comes through.

Leti: We're on our way. What's the address?





I'm about to type the address when a knock sounds against the door, and I clutch my phone to my chest.

"Hailey?" my mom asks, and I stop white-knuckling the device in my hands. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? You've been in there a while . . ."

"Be right out."

"Okay . . ."

Her footsteps fade away, and I send the address to Leti as quickly as I  can. When he tells me he'll be here in about twenty minutes, I decide  that's twenty minutes too long.

After cautiously peeking into the sitting room and finding it Danica-free, I step in and announce that I'm leaving.

"What? Why?" my mom asks, but she's frowning like she already knows.

My aunt Tilly frowns the same way. "But you just got here . . ."

"I'm not feeling well," I tell them honestly, and my pragmatist father chimes in from where he's sunken into a recliner.

"Didn't Danica drive you?"

"A friend is picking me up," I tell him. "He'll be here in a few minutes. He's already on his way."

Everyone frowns at me in silence-especially my brokenhearted little  brother who I know isn't ready to say goodbye to me just yet-and my  uncle stands up and motions for me to follow. "Let's talk a minute  before you go."

My feet are heavy as I obediently follow him back to the kitchen, and he  serves us both slices of pumpkin pie that sit untouched on a pair of  porcelain plates.