“Hey, don’t blame me for this. It was your idea to get her out here in the first place. God, teenagers are a nightmare… Maybe once she’s back home and Tyler’s in New York we’ll be able to get back to normal.”
I halt by the door and swallow painfully. Did I just hear right? Dad just invited me because Ella told him to? It shouldn’t surprise me, it shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I turn around and look at them both. “You don’t want me here?”
They look up at me, shocked. Ella gets up. “Eden, you weren’t supposed to hear that; of course your dad—”
But I can’t stand to hear their excuses. “And why is Tyler going to New York?”
Ella fires my dad a glare, but then she looks back at me and gives a tight smile. “It’s nothing.”
I know that it’s certainly not nothing, but I’m tired of asking questions and never getting a straight answer. I’m absolutely livid, and I think my heart might explode from my high blood pleasure. Mom’s always been right about Dad. He’s an asshole.
I stuff my hands into the pockets of my sweater—it only reminds me once more that I was robbed—and storm up to my room. My head’s still spinning, even more so now, and all I crave is water and a shower and Tyler. Two of those things I can have.
Ugh.
I need to clear my head, to remove myself from the house and get some fresh air instead. I need to run. I’ll shower when I get back; I’ll talk to Tyler when I get back. I just need to think straight first.
I fight the overwhelming urge to throw up as I slip out of my skirt from last night and change into my running gear, fetching myself a bottle of water from the kitchen and heading out the patio doors in order to avoid Dad.
And then I’m off, falling into a steady pace as I make my way north rather than west. I don’t want to go back to the beach. I want to take a new route; I want to end up someplace different and new. And so I quickly find myself in Pacific Palisades, the sun beating down on me, my feet thudding against the concrete and my headache slowly easing away.
I think last night has just made everything even more complicated than it already was. Now Tyler and I are walking on eggshells, monitoring our words and ensuring not a single soul catches us exchanging a knowing smile. If we get caught, we’re screwed.
My head is a total mess. In a perfect world, Tyler and I wouldn’t be related through a marriage certificate. In a perfect world, Tyler and I wouldn’t have to sneak around and hurt people in the process of falling for each other. In a perfect world, I’d get to brag about him to Amelia. But this world isn’t perfect. Far from it.
*
When I get back to the house forty minutes later, still a little hungover and out of breath, I come to an abrupt halt on the lawn.
Tiffani’s car is parked out front. It shouldn’t be. It’s Sunday morning, and they never see each other on Sundays.
I force myself over to the front door, but there’s a stiffness in my bones, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the run or because I know there’s something not quite right. I almost want to turn around and run another five hundred thousand miles in the opposite direction, but I drag myself inside the house and creep up the staircase. I notice Dad and Ella are talking in the living room when I sweep past, most likely discussing ways to get rid of their two reckless kids.
I’ve barely reached the landing when Tiffani emerges from my room, shoving open my door with Tyler hot on her heels. He reaches for her arm and tries to pull her back, but she shakes off his grasp.
“Oh, here she is,” she says venomously, her voice dripping with acid. “You’re just in time.”
Tyler’s eyes are wide as he stares at me from behind her, and with a minute shake of his head, he runs a hand through his hair.
“In time for what?” I dare myself to ask, although judging by the furious expression on her face I don’t think I want to know. Tyler looks worried, and I can’t blame him. I’m starting to feel the same.
Tiffani’s eyes are like ice and I’ve never seen her look so…nasty. Right now, if this was a scene in a movie, she’d be the villain for sure. “I need to talk to you both, because in case you can’t tell, I am pissed the hell off.” She balls a hand into a fist. “I am this close to punching you in the face, Tyler.”
“What have I done this time?” He’s staring at her with a perplexed look in his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him from taking a step back, just in case.
“What have you done? Are you seriously asking?” Her mouth is agape, and then she takes a deep breath. “Backyard. Now.”
She barges past me and knocks me against the wall. I scrunch up my face and glare after her as she descends the stairs. What’s her damn problem?
I glance back at Tyler. He presses his hands to his face and mouths, “Fuck.”
Tiffani pauses at the bottom of the staircase and glowers back up at us. She throws a pointed glance at the living room door, where our parents are. “I can talk to you both outside or I can talk to you right here,” she says slowly, her voice hushed, “and trust me, I think you’d rather I spoke to you outside.”