Page 39 of Crash into me
“You seriously don’t think I’m going to tell him?” I sneer.
“Oh wait,” she laughs. “You do remember me then.” Then the truth hits her. “Oh my God, you remember everything.” Her eyes roam around my face as she searches for an answer.
I don’t have time to care. “Why in the fuck are you telling Foster you’re pregnant when you’re clearly not?” I pan to her glossy black hair, the diamond necklace. To her manicured nails and designer ballgown. “Actually, why did you tell Foster you have nowhere to go and you’re on a scholarship when your fucking handbag cost enough to pay for a semester?”
“Oh, this old thing?” Her high-pitched voice makes my ears bleed. She places her elbow on the table, cupping her face as she looks me over. “I’m assuming you’re acting like you don’t remember for a reason.”
Well, your assumption would be correct you little green bitch, but I will tell him.
She stalks around me like a lioness. “Do you not love him?” No, more like a slithering snake.
I scoff. What kind of stupid ass question is that? A few people walk near, and she touches my hair, complimenting my attire. “So, you do love him. Hmm, what could it be?”
“I think my questions are a little more fucking important, Envy,” I snap. My eyes dart to where my father stands at the podium as he thanks the guest through a microphone before the big-ticket items get auctioned off.
“Boom. Your dad. He’s holding something over you, isn’t he?”
I’m seeing red. “How do you know he’s my father?”
“I know what it is!”A lightbulb visibly ignites in her mind. “Sandra,” Envy finally decides as one of the art auctions reaches a crisp five-hundred-thousand.
“Who the fuck is Sandra?”
Her nails fling in front of her face carelessly, and I’m reminded of the usual green that is there. Now, it’s a light pink manicure. “Foster’s sister. The dying one?” she questions.
“Sophie, and she’s not dying.” I’m saving her.
“Oh, so you’re her hero, huh?”
“What’s your game plan? What are you going to do when Foster realizes you’re not pregnant in six months when the baby should be here?” A million questions are fighting their place for the front of my mind. What is even happening?
She pouts out her overly botoxed lips, faking a cry. “Foster! Oh Foster, it was terrible. We lost the baby.” She laughs manically, and I begin to wonder if I’m on a hidden camera show. “Then, Ill cry into his shoulder until he falls in love with me.”
How could anyone be so cruel?
Then it hits me: She’s a puppet master. Playing with everyone’s lives because she’s rich and became too bored. Power leaves you hungry for more.
“Leave me alone, you envious bitch.”
“Oh, and Skyler? You know how I said my father beats me too.” She frowns. “That was a lie as well. My daddy would never hurt me.” She blows me a kiss as she walks away, walking to who I assume are her doting parents as they lovingly wrap their arms around her.
I stumble away from the table, plucking a stiff dry martini from one of the caterers as I make my way to the fountain.
I sit on the cool marble side, in complete shock. Mrs. Rita slides in beside me, “You doing okay, dear?”
I nod blankly, staring at the fountain. “Yeah, you?”
“It’s a busy night.” She looks out at the people dancing around the property as the charity auction comes to an end. The party is still in full-swing, though, with playful music and popping bottles everywhere.
“They raised millions.” Rita nods.
My eyes roam back to where Envy stands with her parents. Now that I know she’s not pregnant, I want to lunge through the crowd and attack her. Ripping out her lying black hair and jamming her face into the tab—
“Skyler?”
“At least they’re doing something good with the money,” I breathe.
Rita pats my leg. “That’s a good way to think of it, dear.” She grins. “Now, your parents want you to head inside. They’re signing papers.”