Page 28 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
When Mother had sat me down and told me Dad had defrauded everyone, that she was leaving him, and that she and Balthazar had tried to stop him, I hadn’t believed her. The fucking F.B.I. had been looking into Dad, and still, I loved him with a loyalty he didn’t deserve.
He’d screwed his business partner over. He’d screwed the town over. He’d screwed my mother over. And he’d screwed me over.
The worst part? My ignorance made me as complicit in The Winthrop Scandal as my dad. Sophomore year, on the heels of a bomb threat at Eastridge Prep that had turned out to be Teddy Grieger’s bail-out plan for the A.P. Physics test, the school’s administration had held an assembly with the Eastridge Police Department.
Officer Durham gave a cheesy speech about being young adults, having responsibility, and looking out for one another. He’d made one point that, years later, always echoed in my mind when I laid alone in bed and felt particularly masochistic.
If you see something, say something. This isn’t just a slogan. It’s a creed. There is no such thing as an innocent bystander.
I was n
ot an innocent bystander.
My sigh transformed into a long exhale as I bundled my design materials into a ball at the base of my mattress.
“If by horrible reason you mean horribly valid, yes, I agree.” I couldn’t be more petulant if I had jutted my bottom lip out.
“Mature.” I could almost hear Reed shaking his head. “What’s your beef with him? You know what? Don’t answer that. Nash won’t know you work there. The company is huge, and you’re going by Emery Rhodes. Plus, you haven’t seen him in four years, and you look nothing like you used to.”
“You mean, I look like a mess.”
Mother reminded me of this in her monthly emails.
Speak of the Devil…
My phone beeped with another call. I pulled it away from my ear and checked the caller ID. Mother flashed on the screen, a picture of her portrait-style in front of The Eastridge Junior Society displayed in full HD.
She was probably calling to pry info out of me, to see if I’d finally visited Dad or if I wanted to do brunch with her and her boyfriend Balthazar.
As in, Uncle Balthazar.
As in, my dad’s business partner Uncle Balthazar.
As in, the man who had been so close to my family that Mother had instructed me to call him “uncle” since birth.
I hadn’t talked to my mother in months and didn’t plan on starting now. I would sooner talk to Dad.
Anagapesis.
Aesthete.
Yugen.
Gumusservi.
Muttering pretty words that made me happy, I declined the call and pressed my phone back to my ear in time to hear Reed laughing. “I didn’t say that.”
A woman’s voice drifted over the line in the background.
I winced, absently rubbing at my chest, right above the spot that housed my jealous heart. I wasn’t jealous because I wanted Reed. I knew that ship had sailed as soon as I’d slipped into bed with the wrong Prescott.
Loneliness fueled the jealousy. Mother had Uncle Balthazar. Reed had Basil. And I had a broken heater and endless Netflix binges of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. on my ex from freshman year’s account. I dreaded the day he realized I was using it and changed his password.
“Is that Basil?” I bit a strand of hair, a nasty habit Mother would disown me for. “Tell her I said, ‘hi.’”
We both knew I didn’t mean it. He thought I disliked her for the way she treated me in high school, and I let him believe that rather than tell him the truth, which was that I thought he deserved better.
My neighbor’s chihuahua, perhaps.
