Page 39 of Spiteful Lies

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Page 39 of Spiteful Lies

Chapter 27

Astrid

Charlotte doesn’t mention Howland, and neither do I. Mom would never say his name, not even to politely ask about his health. I wouldn’t say she hates the stuck-up sperm donor, but she wouldn’t be sad if she found out his new address is about to be the burning pit of hell underneath our feet.

We walk down the path, holding onto Mom and ignoring the curious looks. Not that I want to be rude on purpose, but I’m being greedy. I want my mommy time, and I’m only willing to share it with Charlotte.

Charlotte seems happy as she tells stories about growing up at Stonehaven and suggests that we go to the student gallery in the faculty building. “My plan is to take breaks so we’re not walking on our heels all day,” she says, “Our feet will last longer if we do.”

Mom smiles at Charlotte as she opens the door into the building. “Do you have a nickname, Charlotte?”

For a second, Charlotte stiffens, but only I notice. We know each other too well. She’s going to need a deflection, but before I can move the conversation in another direction, Charlotte replies, “You can call me Lotte. But only you.”

Charlotte gives me a look, and I keep my mouth shut but grin broadly. We walk into the quiet gallery, and the exhibit has been changed to a group show. The theme is student portraits, and multiple artists are showing what I guess are their favorite portraits. We walk slowly by and admire the paintings on display. Mom walks a little ahead of us and stops in front of a large canvas. I watch her profile as she smiles at Charlotte’s stunning portrait by Justin.

“Charlotte is a lovely name for a beautiful young woman,” she says. Mom steps toward the painting beside it, and her smile thins.

I walk quickly over to see what she’s looking at and almost scream. Justin has two paintings on display, and the image on the second canvas is obviously me, though my eyes are not in the frame. Anyone who knows me well enough knows that’s my half-naked body stretched out diagonally across the canvas. My long legs are toned from fighting, my stomach defined from a shitload of sit-ups, and my tattoo is barely concealed by a piece of drop cloth that covers my privates.

It must be based on his sketches, but I thought he tore them all up? The image is raw, sexual, and powerful. My lips are gently parted, and it’s obvious that the artist knows me well. Justin claims me sexually, even without being present. Fuming, I want to rip into him. He probably has a portrait of his dick hanging on a wall somewhere.

I look at Mom, trying to recapture my cool. She frowns at the description card beside the portrait and then looks back at the painting. God only knows what she’s thinking, and I could kill him.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo, Astrid,” she remarks, looking closer. “When did you get that?”

Charlotte’s laughter peals across the room. “You are the dark horse, Astrid,” she teases, “If I ever accused you of acting tough, I take it all back.”

Mom tilts an eyebrow. “What else does my daughter do, Lotte?”

I give Charlotte a killer look, and she beams as if she has a secret that refuses to stay inside her mouth. “She’s no better or worse than any other kid at Stonehaven, Evelyn. The art students like to draw her because she has all muscle, fewer curves. Astrid should definitely continue to compete in college. She is the track star.”

Mom smiles with pride, and I deflate with relief. “I’m glad to hear that college is a possibility again, Astrid. You were always good at sports. I spoke to Nova. She and Derick work at a gym now.”

I swallow hard and feel even guiltier for not keeping up with my best friend. “Did she say which gym?”

Mom’s brow creases as she tries to remember. “It’s in a strip mall on the highway. It’s in an empty building that’s been leased by a few owners, but the current owner turned it into a gym. I haven’t been there yet.” Mom’s expression stiffens as she stares at the card pinned to the wall. “Leister? Isn’t that the same name as the governor caught up in the sex scandal?” Mom looks over at me, but her eyes widen. “Astrid, are you okay?”

Quickly, I reach behind me to make sure there’s something to fall back on as my body starts to descend. “My heels are pinching my feet.” I kick one off and wiggle my toes to prove it.

Charlotte quickly covers. “Well, Astrid, when you’re ready, we can show Evelyn our classrooms.”

Immediately, I wiggle my foot back into my shoe and stand up. “Sounds great. Let’s go.”

Actually, it doesn’t sound good at all. There are skeletons in every closet in every building on campus. But we need to get out of here. Walking along the path, we pass more students and parents, but not any I know well. Mom nods politely as people turn to look at her, and my chest puffs with pride as I show off. My mom is just as good as theirs. No, she’s even better. Mom knew how much this day would mean to me, and she did more than show up. She brought it on and is ruling the day as we walk along, laughing and chatting.

I’m smiling like a dumbass as we approach the red brick building. I glance up at the windows, and my gaze lands right on Bryce. He opens the window and waves tentatively until Mom looks up and smiles at him. Charlotte and I wave back, and quickly, he disappears. God, I hope his parents kept their asses at home.

“Who was that?” my mom whispers, leaning toward Charlotte, “He’s a handsome boy.”

Charlotte giggles. “Bryce Shelton. He’s not only rich, but he’s sweet, too, and he likes your daughter.”

“Charlotte,” I warn her, but she giggles. I never intimidated her like the other girls.

Bryce bursts out the door alone and heads straight toward us. He scowls before he reaches us, and I don’t get why until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“All the lovely ladies,” Pierce gives me a peck on the cheek. “And Charlotte, you look beautiful.” He steps closer to Mom. “And this must be your mom, Astrid. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bowen.”

Mom smiles, amused by Pierce’s charm but not sucked in. He hasn’t had enough practice. “I prefer Evelyn if you’re a friend of my daughter’s. And you are?”




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