Chapter 22.

I barely make it to school in the morning. I only have time to brush my teeth and throw on some clothes, then I'm running out the door. Lauren calls to tell me she's got the flu and will be in bed all day, so I don't find out till I get to school that my shirt is inside out. People keep asking me if I'm hung over, and I just say yes to make them go away. Pretty soon rumors are swirling around school about me being stupid drunk at a college frat party. I don't care. Lots of things have been said about me before: I'm a s.l.u.t, I got implants, I tried out for Playboy, I'm adopted...blah, blah, blah...

Come to think of it, that's probably why I have no school spirit, and couldn't care less about this place. It's a c.r.a.ppy experience, especially for someone with a bad att.i.tude. And I never deny a rumor, I just change it enough to be confusing. When kids would come up to me and ask me if my b.o.o.bs were real, I would tell them I was adopted. It confused the gossip train-those guys are easily confused, and stone stupid.

I make it to English a few minutes early, so I pull out my Chem book. I can't remember, but I'm pretty sure there's a test today.

I'm flipping to chapter nine when Matt stops by my desk.

"Hey, V," Matt greets me with a casual smile. Like he hadn't cheated on me, then avoided me since school started.

My stomach does a funny little flip, but I no longer feel the strong urge to flush his head down the toilet.

Still not my favorite person, though.

"Hey, Matt," I mutter, self-consciously straightening my shirt.

He seems relieved at my civil reply. "So did you start on your paper yet?"

"Start? It's done. Isn't it due tomorrow?"

Matt's face falls comically. "Oh, s.h.i.t, really? I didn't even start it!"

"Sucks," I say with a shrug.

"Yeah." Matt is glum for a moment, then he brightens. "I heard Tanner's gonna be out for, like, the rest of the month, and Jensen is subbing. Maybe he'll give me an extension."

"Or," I say, shutting my Chem book. "You could just whip it out tonight."

Okay, that sounds funny. I realize this as soon as the words come out of my mouth. By the way Matt is grinning right now, I probably slipped a "p.e.n.i.s" in there somewhere.

"So, I hear you're going out with some college guy," he says, changing the subject. He half-sits on my desk the way he used to when we were together. I want to kick him off badly.

"Zane's not in college, he works for Cronus," I say somewhat snootily. "He's a software engineer."

I can't help it. The best revenge you can get on your cheating ex is to replace him with someone about a hundred times hotter, and more successful. And if that's a petty sentiment...well, I'm a petty kind of girl.

"Wow, you're moving up in the world, huh, V?" Matt pats my arm good-naturedly. "But then you were always too good for us high school jerks. I always knew some guy would steal you away."

I look up at him. "Really? So that's why you dumped me?"

He stares down at his hands uncomfortably. "Well, kinda, actually. It was pretty stressful dating you. Every time we went out, I felt like I had to kick some guy's a.s.s who was staring at you. I was just waiting for you to realize you were way out of my league."

What a bunch of c.r.a.p. Did he forget the part where he cheated on me? Ugh.

"Okay," I say to him, opening my book up again. "Thanks."

Matt just sits there, staring dreamily at my chest. I have to clear my throat loudly. I tell him that it looks like Rachel-who is staring at us anxiously from her desk-wants to talk to him. He flushes and hastily excuses himself.

That was weird. I start an imaginary conversation with Zane in my head about the experience. We both decide Matt is an a.s.s.

"Hey, Violet."

The deep voice startles me out of my daydream. I look up into a pair of twinkling hazel eyes.

"Oh, uh, hi, Mr. Jensen," I stutter, surprised to be singled out.

He winks at me before making his way to the front of the room to call attendance.

Okay, that was weird. I didn't even think he knew my name. Maybe he heard the wild frat party rumor, too. Oh, well.

If it persists, I think I'll start spreading the word that I'm donating a kidney to a long lost sister.

The rest of November officially sucks. I've got four different projects due around the same time. Why do teachers do that? Do they want to see us fail? Our English project is worth half our grade and Lauren and I can't agree how to tie in the six books we've been a.s.signed to cover. She's being so difficult lately, I can hardly get a hold of her. She must be tutoring half the school, with how often she's gone.

Work is a zoo. We get three new high needs residents, including a wheelchair bound woman named Marge-while sweet as can be-works the call b.u.t.ton like a buzzer on a game show. I'm in her room every five minutes, and it throws off my whole schedule. I have to run to get everything done on time, which leaves little time to hang out with Helize.

To top it off, Zane is tied up with some special project at work-some new software that needs to be ready for launch by the beginning of December. I haven't seen him since the night he stayed over. He's missed all the pre-wedding events, and Mom is starting to freak out that he'll miss the actual wedding. She's already a nervous wreck, and guess who has to hear about it?

So I've been a bit grouchy lately. Okay, a lot. Zane missed Thanksgiving, which sucked. All of Mom's side of the family manages to make it down-and since the wedding is in eight days, they've been staying with us. So now the house is full of Harringtons.

Maybe it's a good thing he couldn't make it. Though I did tell him about the highlight of the evening-Great Grandma Frances cornering Bill in the kitchen with a spoon and a (clean) adult diaper. The look of terror on Bill's face was...sublime.

Great Grandma's a little nutty.

We've been fighting a lot, lately-Zane and I. I'll admit, most of it is due to my insecurities. I can't help but obsess over what Zane's doing at the moment. Is he eating dinner alone like he says he's doing? Is he really still at work at eight at night? Why can't he spare a few hours to make it to the rehearsal dinner?

My imagination starts going wild, and Zane gets exasperated. Especially since I don't come right out with what's bugging me. Even though we both know. But the sick thing is...I kind of like starting fights with him. It's devastating, exciting...foreplay.

I know. I'm a freak. G.o.d, I can't wait to see him again ******

Chapter 23.

Mom's wedding...

The day starts out cloudy with a cool breeze. Mom is freaking out, worried that it will rain, even though the wedding planner a.s.sures her they can easily move the ceremony into the great hall if even a tiny drop of rain dares to fall.

She's driving me crazy. Mom-not the wedding planner, that is. She refuses to let me leave her side for even a minute. She is ridiculously nervous, and shaking like a leaf.

She looks beautiful, despite her nerves. Mom's wearing a simple white sheath dress that doesn't overwhelm her delicate figure. She keeps her makeup minimal and natural-looking, her pale blonde hair pinned up with a white lily. I love her cla.s.sy elegant style. It's what I'd want for my own wedding. a.s.suming I'd ever get married.

The wedding is being held at Woodburn Estates, in the fairy garden. Vibrant exotic flowers bloom everywhere and colorful twinkle lights are subtly woven through branches and wrapped around old fashioned lamp lights. The big white gazebo drips with lights and flowers, and Jeri, the wedding planner, informs us that most of the guests have been seated.

"You look so lovely, Violet," Mom says, her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears.

"Don't cry," I warn her, handing her a tissue just in case. "And thanks. You look amazing, too."

She carefully wipes the corner of her eyes, then waves a dismissive hand. "Thanks, love. At my age, I just hope I don't look too ridiculous. Oh, have you seen Jane? I found some earrings she can borrow."

I grab my phone and ask Jane to come to our cottage. Then I text Lauren for the fifth time.

Me: Is he here yet?

Lauren: Haven't seen him. Don't worry, he'll be here!

I sigh. Zane can't miss the wedding. I will kill him if he does.

To distract myself, I check my reflection in the full-length mirror. I love my dress. It's a strapless dark blue jersey material with a full knee length skirt. My hair is down in loose curls, one side pinned up by a glittering barrette made by my grandmother. I wish I could wear Zane's bracelet, but today is so not the day to have the attention focused on my wrist.

I feel sophisticated and glamorous for a change. I wonder what he'll think of me. It's going to be so hard to pretend he's just my future step brother. How am I going to pull that off in front of my family? What if I blurt out something completely inappropriate again? I might-it's been known to happen.

Worry and doubt swirl in my head until I am nervous as Mom. We stand by the window, shaking like leaves in the wind, and jumping whenever anyone tries to talk to us. Then Mom chokes on a mint, and I unnecessarily perform the Heimlich maneuver on her-unnecessary because she spit the mint out as soon as she started choking. Fortunately, I don't break any of her ribs, and we end up laughing hysterically about it. Not sure why.

Before we are ready, Jane and Jeri are ushering us to the gazebo. On the way, I text Lauren.

Me: Do you see him??

Lauren: Yeah. And wow!

Me: Wow what???

Lauren: You'll see Ugh! As if I wasn't nervous enough already! And why does Jeri keep pushing me? I slap her hands away, annoyed.

"Go, Violet!" she hisses.

She gives me a giant shove, and I'm suddenly stumbling down the aisle with everyone in the rows of chairs turning to look at me.

I only trip twice, which is amazing, considering these three inch heels. Clutching my bouquet, I concentrate on floating down the aisle.

I barely see the smiling faces of family and friends, barely notice Bill, looking spiffy and uncomfortable, waiting in the gazebo. My gaze is completely focused on the beautiful boy in the crisp tux, standing straight and tall next to Bill.

He is amazing, the most perfect thing I've ever seen in my life. So effortlessly elegant and s.e.xy, he seems utterly untouchable to me.

And that G.o.d is my boyfriend!

Zane watches me walk down the aisle, a hint of a smile on his ineffably beautiful face. I can't help the huge grin on mine. I take my position, overcome with a lovely sense of joy. I am so grateful to be right here, right now.

I have to tear my attention away from Zane to watch Mom make her entrance.

Here we go.

I am far from the sentimental type, but I fight back tears as Mom and Bill exchange their vows. His is laughably simple, but the smitten look on his face says it all. Mom is much more elaborate, tears falling freely as she expresses grat.i.tude for her life, her family...and the man standing beside her. Those who know what she's been through cry with her.

I am so happy, and so proud of her right now.

In a daze, I realize it's over. Zane reaches for my arm and escorts me down the aisle. He supports most of my weight, which I am super grateful for. I'm an emotional mess, and I don't think I could have made it alone.

"Well, now you're officially my step sister," he says out of the corner of his mouth. "Is it inappropriate to tell you how G.o.d d.a.m.n beautiful and s.e.xy you look right now?"

I laugh shakily. "Not any more than me telling you I'd like to rip that tux off your body with my teeth."

Zane leans his head back and laughs.

I don't know why. I'm not kidding.

The reception is held indoors, in a ball room decorated in the wedding colors of blue and silver. The mult.i.tudes of candles set off the gorgeous chandeliers with their flickering lights. It's magical, and I can't enjoy it.

I stand next to Lauren's table, fuming. I should be with Zane, but I'm not. Why? Because we both decided we couldn't be that close, and be able to keep our hands off each other. Lauren also confirms that the s.e.xual tension between us is so obvious that she feels like taking a cold shower.

And that's why it's my s.l.u.tty cousin, Taylor, pressed up against Zane's side instead of me.

Taylor is the current Miss Nevada. I know she's blood, but I hate her guts. I hate Aunt Barb and Uncle Mike for raising such a pretty ho. I hate that no one is telling her that this is a wedding reception, not a wh.o.r.ehouse.

"She's touching his arm again!" I growl. "That-ugh! Do you think she's prettier than me?"

"I don't know," Lauren says tiredly, poking at her chicken. "You have bigger b.o.o.bs."

I barely hear her. "'Oh, look at me! I'm Miss Nevada, tee hee! Oh, Zane, you're so strong. Oh, I can't keep my hands to myself because you're just so-oh, there I go again, running my hand down your chest. Because I'm a tramp! That's how I got to be Miss Nevada, one blow-"

"V," Lauren interrupts me. "Just go over there."

"I can't," I say. "You know we can't risk it. Did you just throw up in your napkin?"

She folds said napkin and places it on her plate, grimacing. "My stomach's a little queasy."

"Are you okay? You're not pregnant, are you?" I say with a little laugh. Because it's Lauren, and there's no way...

She doesn't say a word, carefully not meeting my eyes.

My jaw drops. "Oh, my G.o.d," I gasp.

I grab Lauren's arm and drag her into the restroom. Once inside, she pulls away and locks herself in a stall. Moments later, the sounds of violent retching fill my ears. I grab a bunch of paper towels and wet them.

Lauren finally comes out from the stall, sweaty and pale. I help her clean up, then I run out to grab her a bottled water.

When I come back, she's leaning against the counter, eyes red and watery.