Vendetta(68)

We followed one of the winding stone pathways that looped around an expanse of open greenery bordered by puffed-out chestnut trees. Ahead of us, a group of pimply teenagers were carrying an array of blankets, picnic baskets, and fold-up chairs. “What if he’s actually just run away with all the diner money?” asked Millie.

“What money?”

We both laughed.

It felt good to unwind with Millie after everything. Even though she knew what my father did to Nic’s father, I tried not to feel guilty about neglecting to tell her certain details — Mafia details — about the situation. I had made a promise to Nic, and I didn’t want to be someone who didn’t keep promises. Plus, having Millie in the dark was better for her anyway; I didn’t want to risk putting her in danger, especially after Luca’s threat.

Millie tapped her chin. “Well, your uncle must get the money for those fancy suits from somewhere.”

“Trust me. I’ve seen the books. It’s not from the diner.”

“Dammit,” Millie lamented. “And I was still holding out for that pay raise.”

We slipped in behind a throng of people who were following a connecting pathway that led to the park’s central square. Up ahead, Erin Reyes and three of her vapid clones were flirting loudly with a bunch of guys from school. She caught my eye and smirked before flipping her hair in her customary I’m-so-much-better-than-you way. Her giggling intensified.

“That has to be a fake laugh.”

“Then it matches her nose,” said Millie, before dragging me away. She trailed her hand along the bark of a nearby oak tree as we walked.

“Trying to reconnect with nature?” I teased.

She nudged me and I teetered off the path, into the mud that lined it. “Hey!”

“Just trying to get your mind off everything.”

“You’re a real gem.”

“Thank you, Sophie,” Millie said, giving me a ridiculous curtsy.

Finally, we entered the square: generous patches of grass divided by crisscrossing stone paths and bordered on all sides by towering trees. At the north end, a huge screen had been erected.

“They have a taco truck this year!” Millie squealed, dragging me by one of the belt loops on my denim cutoffs. “Let’s sit somewhere around here.”

Scores of people were already relaxing on chairs and blankets in front of the giant screen. Families had come out with their children, who were running around with careless abandon, while others were arriving as couples sewn together at the hips and hands and elbows, carrying everything from cushions and picnic baskets to cans of beer and bottles of wine.

“Whoa, people must really love Monty Python,” I observed as Millie fanned out her blanket in a spot equidistant from the screen and the taco truck. She smoothed down all four corners, making sure it was perfectly straight.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen this.”

When we were comfortably sprawled out, I emptied the contents of my bag until our makeshift feast was scattered across the quilt in streaks of sugar and chocolate.

Millie ripped into a bag of sour gummi bears and stuffed four into her mouth at once. “I love these,” she said with swollen cheeks. “Even though I’m not allowed to eat them.” She grinned, revealing tiny slivers of jelly that were now anchored to her invisible braces.

I laughed at her, and felt good about it. Since the night I fell for Nic, I had been tormenting myself with questions and wallowing in self-pity, which was doing more harm than good. I had to stop before I drove myself insane thinking of things I knew I couldn’t change.

I broadened my smile and then felt it falter at the sudden look on Millie’s face.

“But I thought he was out of town,” she mumbled, her voice was unnaturally subdued.

“Huh?” I followed her gaze and squinted into the growing crowds. “Who are you talking about?”

“Robbie Stenson. He’s here.”





I poured all of my concentration into the back of Robbie Stenson’s stupid round head. Even though I still couldn’t remember anything from that night, I felt angry just looking at him. It was like my skin was burning at the memory and my brain was struggling to catch up. Beside me, Millie’s raucous laughter was buzzing in my ears. She was blissfully glued to the movie.

“Why aren’t you laughing?” she asked.

I scanned the screen, where a bunch of British knights were harping on in comical French accents. Strange. “I’m distracted.”

“What are you trying to accomplish by staring at Robbie’s head like that?” Millie shoveled another handful of caramel popcorn into her mouth. “Are you trying to make him explode with your mind?”