Never Been Nerdy(52)

Fucking dick!

“What did you just say?” her voice comes out with an edge to it, but it’s nothing but fluff. I need her to listen to me and do what I’m asking of her.

“You heard me. You’ve got ten minutes.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you. Not when you’re talking to me like that.”

“Get the fuck over it, Delos. You know I don’t say half as bad shit as your parents do. Get fucking ready.”

“NO.”

I stop at a red light just in time, yelling into the phone. “Get fucking ready or I’m going to come there and break the house down. I swear to God, I will burn all your fucking books if you don’t do this for me.”

Silence, absolute silence.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and I hiccup on a sob, and press the gas.

“None of your fucking business. You don’t want to talk to me, fine! Go fuck yourself, Sera, since MacLaine seems to be doing such a shit job at it,” I say, shooting in the dark. Her gasp adds another flare of pain into my chest, and I want to tear off my clothes and somehow open myself up to get it out of me.

I hang up, and shoot my phone on the passenger seat, swearing all the while fucking idiots who don’t know how to drive to save their lives get in my lane. I cut people off and swerve into other lanes without indicating. I go the only place that will give me what I need.

And what I need right now is a bottle of Canadian Club and some ice to chase it with.

There’s no way I’m getting through tonight without it.





Chapter 15




I’m shaking as I walk into the main lobby of the hotel and see my mom’s face smooshed against Malcolm’s in that cutesy way couples do that makes me want to barf.

The whole picture looks like a farce. It doesn’t show how flighty she is, how awful she was to my dad for doing what she did. It doesn’t show Malcolm’s piss-poor attitude when it comes to me; or how he bad-mouths my dad. It’s just a fucking picture and it sure as fuck doesn’t speak a thousand words, but only one: liars.

I stomp into the dining hall, sickened by the rosy glow to the lighting and the murmur of a whole bunch of my mother’s friends, friends who I felt were family, murmuring to one another, staring at me as I walk in.

Yeah? Well, look your fill, bitches. I’ll never do what you did, and that makes me better than you.

Malcolm’s kids are there, too, two dudes and a chick a bit younger than me, but I pass them by without even a smile. I don’t even think I could fake a smile right now.

I take my seat right next to my mom, with the fucker on the other side of her, and laser-in on finding a waiter who will bring me what I need.

I wave one over, and it’s lost on me how very cute he is. There’s only one guy I want right now and he hates my guts. Whatever, maybe I can pretend the waiter’s Dean when I have a few drinks – worse things have been known to happen.

“Miss?” he asks, all toothy grin, and charm oozing from his pores.

Yeah, yeah, you want a tip.

“I want a Jack and Sprite. Anytime you see I’m almost done, I expect another one to be in its place. Got it?” I make myself understood: he takes care of me and I’ll take care of him. I’ve got a $100 in my wallet assigned specifically for this purpose.

“Got it. I’ll be right back,” he says, nodding at me. I watch him go speak to the bartender, while looking over his shoulder at me.

Hello? Get me my drink!

“Katie, sweetheart,” Mom says, placing a hand on my forearm, effectively making me turn in my seat to look at her. I don’t think I’ve ever been so disgusted in my life, but the bad news is, I don’t know if my behaviour is making me disgusted with myself or everybody else.

I wish Dean was here. I wish he was here, sitting next to me in a suit and tie. I wish his arm was over the back of my chair, his knees open, practically slouching in his seat, fixing me with a lazy stare and an easy smile that would make all this okay, that would make all this better.

Yeah, you wish he was here, but he wants nothing to do with you. Meet your new boyfriend, Jack Daniels.

“Hi,” I say, taking a swig of my cool drink, letting the taste roll over my tongue.

“Thank you for coming,” she says.

I put my drink down and give her a look with narrowed eyes. “As if I had a choice in the matter. You hounded me to be here. Trust me, Mom, this is the last place I’d be tonight.”

She has a good way of hiding her true feelings. Hell, there had to be some sort of magic mojo going on for her to hide Malcolm from my Dad for almost three years. Except now there’s a tiny pinch of skin between her eyebrows that I know she’ll need botox for sooner or later.