Expel (21 page)

Chapter 36

The Bitch is Back

  
The next morning Brielle offers me a ride to school but I refuse, on the grounds I have to work after, and I checked the schedule—so does Gage.

I spent all morning primping and plucking through a pile of sweaters just to find the right one that might entice Gage to offer a slow blink in my direction. It’s going to be impossible for him to ignore me because he just so happens to be in all of my classes sans cheer, and, well, he has football practice, so technically we’ll be on the field at the same time. I sense an accidental body slam coming on.

But Gage isn’t in first. So far, he hasn’t shown for second, either.

Chloe shares a laugh with Ellis before class as if she didn’t just grind her heel into my heart, as if she didn’t witness Gage splatter across the walls from heartbreak.

“You need to watch your back Chloe,” I hiss, pulling Ellis toward our seats. “Hear the news?” I ask him as we situate ourselves.

“I
saw
the news. She hooked up the school. It’s gone viral. Hey,” he leans in confused, “dude, I don’t even remember us being together.”

“Case in point, you should lay off the street drugs.”

The class filters in. I’m met with shocked expressions, judgmental stares. Chloe has everyone believing I was with Dudley among others. And, ironically, it’s
Marshall
they think I cheated on.
 

“Morning.” Marshall breezes in.
Skyla
. He glances behind me.
I see you maintain the power to attract celestial baggage. The Pretty One pines for you dead or alive, how magnificent that must make you feel. Do consider repaying his devotion—toss a flower out to sea, light a candle in the window, commit to your specialty and make irrational promises that you have little intention on keeping—a sexual favor, a body—the standard fare.

I make a face at Marshall’s factiousness. Only, I really am going to find Logan a body, and it just happens to be floating around right here on campus.

“Hey,” Logan materializes in a watery form, lands in the seat behind me without inciting so much as a breeze. As far as I can tell no one else can see or hear him.

I tip my ear back to listen.

“Rumor has it the falls are beautiful this time of year,” there’s a slight flirtation in his tone. “I have news about your mother. Can we talk after practice?” he asks.

“I have to work,” I whisper.

Ellis spins around and stares into me. Crimson explosions cover the whites of his eyes like a film.

“You need a ride or something?” Clearly I’ve confused Ellis.

I shake my head and motion for him to spin around again before Marshall turns this into some kind of spectator sport.

“Ms. Messenger,” Marshall booms from the front. He leans against his desk and folds his arms, content to be rolling me around like a cat with a ball of yarn. Little does he know I’ve long since unraveled. “Do feel free to share your work schedule with the entire class. Have any discounts you’d like to offer to drum up business? Perhaps a field trip to the establishment is in order?” He doesn’t look amused.

I shake my head at the offer.

“Very well, then,” Marshall busies himself passing out papers.

“Gotta go,” Logan whispers. “See you in the butterfly room tonight?”

I nod in anticipation. Obviously, Logan has arranged for me to see my mother. He’s like the new liaison, or something. If I’m lucky, I’ll get Ezrina a new trial by midnight and get her off my back for good. Then all I have to do is off Holden once again, but now since Dr. Oliver is apprised of the situation, I’ll be spared that gruesome assignment as well. Everything is going perfect. I twist in my seat to smile at Gage and meet up with an empty chair.

Except that, that’s not going perfect at all.

Marshall looms over my chair sorting papers.
I’ve been invited to dinner later this week.

“What on earth for?” I hiss.

Do stifle your excitement. Your mother is working on an ad campaign for the humanitarian effort I’m putting out.

“A garage sale does not a humanitarian effort make,” I whisper. Although in Marshall’s mind, it’s probably the equivalent. “What’s this really about?” Voices continue to escalate all around us, steady and buzzing like a swarm of bees.

It’s a primitive form of revenue retrieval. Not to mention a strategy of warfare. You do realize you could be transported at a moment’s notice to the nether regions of the ethereal plane. You have a disc with you I presume.

I shrink in my seat.

Looks like I’ll be making a quick pit stop to the homestead before hitting the bowling alley. Second thought, I might just sneak out after class. Who would really notice?

Marshall walks past me slow and determined, his eyes never leaving mine.

Marshall, that’s who.

But he should be the last to care.
  

***

   
Rain beats down between classes. It’s so chaotic outside, people are running up and down the walkways with backpacks flung over their heads, trying to shield themselves from the assault. No one will care that I’m speeding out towards the parking lot. I can totally be late for third. I’ll just say I had to use the bathroom, for like a really long time. What teacher in their right mind is going to contest the fact that I was dealing with a faulty tampon or that I was temporarily crippled with blinding cramps?
 

I speed home to find the minivan tucked high up on the driveway signaling the fact Mom and Tad are on the premises. I’ll have to be covert—in and out like a ghost.

There’s a disc hidden under a pile of clean underwear sitting on my dresser, only the mentally disturbed would think to riffle through that.

The roof above the porch christens me with the water runoff, saturates my jacket with its harsh cold sting. Sprinkles greets me in the entry as I make my way inside. He spins in spastic circles with all of his hairless fury. His tiny nails clatter against the tile, creating a ruckus that I suspect will send Mom sailing down the hall at any moment. Figures—he’s a tattletale just like Mia. I give a quick scratch behind his ears and slink upstairs.

Voices emanate from down the hall, so I scurry towards my room. God forbid I hear moaning or Mom screaming Tad’s name out in contrived ecstasy. Honestly, he could be strangling her, and I wouldn’t speed to her rescue on the off chance of catching them in a compromising position.

I pause just shy of my door. It almost sounds as if—freaking shit! The murmurs are coming from my room.

I flatten my back against the wall and try my best to decipher the conversation.

Mom giggles. I can hear her self-abasing tone as though she were blatantly refusing a compliment.

The deep baritone voice of a male vibrates through the walls—then laughter. That’s not Tad. I peer around the wall at the risk of getting caught and spy a tall dark figure reaching his hand out to my mother’s cheek. Demetri. Good God they’re getting it on right there in my bedroom. He’s probably infiltrated her head with some lie about it being a stupid Count ritual, when both he and I know it’s nothing but a big F.U. to my father and me.

I see the large silver disc protruding from the edge of the dresser, and I reach up to try and snake it.

“You hear something?” Mom peeks behind his shoulder just as I duck out of her line of vision.

“It’s just the rain,” he says. “Here, let’s close the window.”

I reach in blindly a second time and snatch at the disc victoriously, scraping it against the dresser in the process.

I don’t wait for my mother to say anything or for Demetri to feed her his steady stream of bullshit. I bolt for the Mustang as if I had just robbed a bank.

I’m halfway to West again before I can even begin to wrap my head around what just happened.

***

I sulk all day over the fact my mother has slid so easily into infidelity, and that, I, as her adopted offspring, am doing so well in that department myself. Case in point, the love of my life didn’t bother to show up at school today because I wrung his heart out with exactly those circumstances.

Just before cheer, I have the misfortune of bearing witness to a near x-rated PDA between Chloe and my newest stepbrother. It sickens me to watch Chloe paw all over Ethan. I haven’t had the initiative to confront him yet, but I have a feeling he could care less about what his so-called girlfriend did to ruin my life.

The bell rings, mercifully ending their never-ending lip lock.

“OK, everyone lineup, I have a few new maneuvers I need to get across today.” Chloe lets it out in one shrill cry.

I watch her like a predator. I’m sure Chloe would love for me to pummel her into the ground right here at West. Of course that would warrant a suspension, an expulsion, and I would never risk my scholastic standing to take her down. I know for a fact she’s working a shift at the bowling alley tonight. I have a few maneuvers I’ll be sharing with her later, too.

We run through a couple of routines for the All State competition before Ms. Richards blows the whistle and barks at us to break into groups.

God—she really looks like Ezrina today. Her sun burnt hair blows wild, stands straight up every now and again, giving her that light socket effect that I’m pretty sure no woman goes after. Maybe I could arrange a meeting between Ezrina and Ms. Richards? I mean, Ms. Richards is her super great, great, whatever, and Ezrina did lament the fact she never visits. But somehow I’m certain Ezrina would rather be united with her Heathcliff—Nevermore. I can’t believe he went ballistic just because I said his name. Having both Gage and Nevermore pissed at me simultaneously feels like an apocalyptic worthy event.

“Let’s go,” Chloe is all business, pulling me off to the side so we can do our doubles routine.

“No freaking way,” I yank my arm free.

“What’s the matter, Messenger? You didn’t think you were going to pull that shit on him
forever
did you? You think Gage wants someone like you? Someone who’s never met a penis she didn’t like?”

I strike her across the face so fast I need the sting on my palm to assure me it happened.

“Nice.” She spits while rubbing her cheek. “My comfort comes from the fact he’s already looking to me for consolation. Called me three times since Saturday. How about you, Skyla?” Her coal black hair enwreathes her face, makes her lips pop like cherry blossoms. “Oh, that’s right. He mentioned he was never going to speak with you again.”

I walk off the field—ignore Ms. Richards’ reprimand to get my rear back there and hit the shower.

Getting back at Chloe is going to have to involve far more than just a beating. I might have to consult my favorite Sector to delineate the perfect path of wickedness to embark upon.

But even more than I feel the need to inflict eternal punishment on Chloe—I crave Gage.

I need Gage and our forever back, or not even Chloe’s demise could bring me pleasure.

There is no pleasure and no sun, no breath worth taking without him.

Chapter 37

The Boss of You

The cool crisp breeze of afternoon is replaced with air thick as tar. Long black sheets of torrential promise stretch out overhead, ready to pronounce their fury.

Afterschool, I race over to the bowling alley, still hopped up on adrenaline after Chloe’s remark. The thought of her speaking with Gage shreds my heart to ribbons. It elicits a groan wrenched from the deepest part of me just thinking about him filling her ear with his velvet voice—if it’s true at all. I’ve learned my lesson. Trust Chloe and my entire world blows apart.

In the bowling alley I find Brielle on her phone with her feet up on the table, head back, and laughing.

I make my way into the kitchen on the lookout for Gage. My heart pumps like a horse at the gate, bucking and jumping with the anticipation of seeing him, but he’s not here. Instead, an older woman, a part of Logan’s regular staff approaches me.

“My check didn’t clear,” she grunts, her face splotched unnaturally as if she had given herself a raspberry facial. “You need to talk to your boyfriend because if this goes on another week, he’s going to lose the entire crew.” Her tiny eyes glisten with anger.

“I’ll get right on it,” I say, knowing full well I’m impotent to provide.

I find Holden in the office hunched over like a rock, pilfering the floor safe.

“What the hell are you doing?” Honest to God, everything Holden touches turns to shit. He’s helping himself to Logan’s stash like he’s a bona fide premium access user.

He hops up without securing the lid and stuffs a wad of bills in the pouch of his sweatshirt, bypasses me without so much as a hello.

I chase him out to the dining area and pull him back by the sleeve.

“I’m talking to you,” I say, spinning him on his heels.

“Don’t feel bad.” Chloe strides over—her face alive with the thrill of watching my life spiral out of control. “She accosted me during 6
^th
.”

“What’s your problem?” He shakes himself loose.

I can tell Holden is trying his best not to act like a dick since the question itself came out laced with a false sense of delicacy.

“
You
,” I say, digging into his pocket and waving the cash in front of his face. “I’m taking over.”

“OK.” He shrugs, taking half the bills away from me and shoving them deep inside his jeans. “Have at it. See if I care.”

Brielle walks over wide-eyed with her mouth agape.

“I heard the checks aren’t clearing. How much are you overdrawn?” I ask.

“He’s negative eighteen thousand,” Brielle pipes up. “Accounting’s sort of my thing. Plus, I don’t mind snooping into people’s finances when the opportunity arises.” She shrugs into her admission. “And what the hell is wrong with you?” She barks into Logan. “It’s like you’re a totally different person.” There’s the distinct look of grief on her face.

“People change.” Holden blinks a smile. Creepy the way he genuinely makes Logan, who has the face of a god, look like a total ass. Maybe this was what I was anticipating, predicting in that hallucinatory vision a few months back after gobbling down Michelle’s demonic rose? “So,” Holden writhes into me, “You and Gage are really over, huh?”

I don’t reward his jackass behavior with an answer. Besides there’s no way I’m going to admit to the fact Gage and I aren’t together. I’d sooner lick Chloe’s bare feet after she ran ten laps in the men’s restroom than entertain that theory out loud.

“I was thinking you and me should give things another shot.” He pinches my left boob.

Reflexively, I smack him in the nose with my purse. I’d consider doing some serious reproductive harm, but since he’s not technically ever going to reproduce with that body, I find it a pointless endeavor.

“Touch me again and I’ll lop off your balls,” my chest heaves into the words.

“She will,” Chloe confirms. “She’s no stranger to detaching body parts.”

“I am feeling stabby,” I poke him in the chest, “and bitchy, and all around pissed off, so stay the hell away from that floor safe, and keep your lobster claws to yourself.” Holden is proof positive that true beauty comes from within.

“That’s my safe.” His amber eyes glint with something familiar from a faraway dream.

“Not anymore. You’re fired.” I turn on my heels to face Chloe. “You, too!”

“Me?” She crooks a hand into her chest.

“Don’t even ask what you did.” I shake my head. “You are a liar, everything about you is a lie. It drives you insane that you can’t have the only thing in this world you want. Where’s Gage, Chloe? Is he by your side?”

“As long as he’s not by yours, it’s just as good.” Her dark eyes linger over me like gunpowder.

Chloe revels in my misery, gains strength from my pain. She watched me go under like a ship taking in water. She was the storm pushing me down. She wanted to hold Gage afterwards, tell him it would all be OK as she cradled him in her poisonous embrace. Little did she know she took him down too—drowned him first.

“I don’t need this job.” Her lids lower as if she were trying to seduce me. “I’ve already got another one lined up.”

“I hope you’re scraping gum off the street with your teeth.” Of course later I’ll think of something far more offensive and to the point.

“I’m in charge of cataloging crap from detective Edinger’s estate. Isn’t that where you’ll be doing your community service?” Chloe twitches a smile. “Say hello to your new boss, Skyla.” She bites the air before heading out the door.

Crap.

Just, crap.

***

It’s a living miracle I arrive alive at Landon manor. The storm rages overhead, shags its heavy precipitation out with aggressive uneven bursts.

“Dinner is in the microwave,” Mom says from the couch.

Really I just want some OJ and a nice hot shower, a chat with Logan in the butterfly room regarding bank passwords and the possibility of changing the combination to his floor safe. I plan on shutting Holden out financially, but I have no clue how I’m going to rectify his eighteen thousand dollar debt by week’s end. And Gage? How long do I let him simmer down before I go bounty hunter and kidnap him for the sake of our relationship?

I’ll cyber stalk him tonight—text him nonstop until six in the morning so he can see how freaking insane I am without him. He’ll need a restraining order to keep me away and even then I won’t listen.

I pause a moment in the cool of the refrigerator. I can’t go on like this without Gage. I don’t even care to appropriately devise my revenge against Chloe. I just want him back so I can breathe again. For a moment I consider dropping to my knees in prayer, doing a faceplant in the not so appetizing strange yellow pie staring back at me. And, oddly, it was baked in the tin we sometimes use as a dog dish.

“Stop fanning yourself with the fridge,” Tad snarls.

I head over to the microwave and pull out the plate Mom set aside for me.

“What is this?” I don’t mean to sound offensive, but really I have no clue how to categorize the mountainous glob set before me.

Drake walks by and retches for effect.

“It’s an asparagus and broccoli quiche with whole wheat crust—no salt. Made it myself,” Mom beams. She gives a satisfied smile into her knitting, assuring me she’s content serving up the questionable nutritional offering. For Mom, cooking is more of a flaw than an attribute.

“It’s pretty cold up in my room. Was my window opened today?” I ask, totally indifferent to the fact I haven’t been upstairs yet.

“Oh,” her eyes widen as if she were about to get caught with her hand in Demetri’s cookie jar. Just the idea of her touching his anything sets me on fire. “I had to go in and, um, grab some laundry. I might have fiddled with it. Sorry about that.”

Knew it!

What if she did the deed with him right there on my bed? I’m going to have to burn everything. Although I seriously doubt Lizbeth Landon did the nasty in her daughter’s bedroom while her husband was floating around on the premises.

“Were you home all day?” I ask Tad for no good reason. He’s already convinced I’ve fried my brain, so a whole slew of random questions shouldn’t surprise him one bit.

“Nope.” He twists his lips while glossing over the paperwork fanned out before him. “Had a meeting in town.” He looks towards my mother. “Guess what, Lizbeth? We no longer need to call a cab whenever that faulty minivan acts up,” he shouts. “Tomorrow afternoon a brand new company car is rolling off the ferry for yours truly.”

“You’re kidding!” She stops spiking the air with her needles and jumps to her feet.

“I wanted to surprise you, but Skyla, here, dragged it out of me.”

I abstain from correcting him.

“Best part?” He gives a greasy smile, “It’s F-R-E-E.”

“That’s my favorite word!” Mom rushes to his side.

“Mine, too,” he says, as they engage in an awkward open-mouth kiss.

Seriously? Eww.

“Guess what else?” He continues. “Althorpe is hosting its annual company dinner right here on the island. All the big wigs and their families will be joining us in a couple weeks.”

“That’s great!” Mom shrieks as if we had just won the lottery. “And family is invited? Even better!”

“I’m bringing Brielle,” Drake pipes up.

“I’m bringing Chloe,” Ethan says, stumbling over to the fridge.

“Of course, you can bring Gage, Skyla,” Mom nods as though it were a given.

I give a weak smile and turn around.

I’m not bringing Gage because he hates me, and I’m pretty sure Ethan’s not bringing Chloe because I would have killed her by then.