“I apologize for intruding,” Drake says before releasing Tori’s hand. “I just heard you talking about business degrees. I’m getting my MBA.”
Yep, vomiting is a very real possibility.
“Oh!” Mom turns to me wide-eyed. “Well, honey, I bet your friend Drake here could tell you everything you’d want to know about majoring in business.”
Yep, she’s right about that. Drake could tell me everything I’d want to know, which is zilch, and plenty I don’t. And then some. But doesn’t she remember me talking about him? The guy I was going on a date with but didn’t really want to see?
A quick glance at Tori lets me knowsheremembers. She’s leering, her eyes practically shining with enjoyment.
We’ll never be close. I’ve probably known it deep down all my life, but the realization is now crystal clear to me. She’s my sister. My only sibling. And we are never going to be tight. We’re never going to turn to each other for help. Or share holidays together when Mom and Dad are gone. Or have each other’s kids over for sleepovers.
And that realization makes me sad, but I can’t say it’s really much of a surprise.
I get why she’s been so angry for so long. She sees me as her nemesis. One she can’t fight outright. She wants to believe the worst about me because I give her misery meaning. We’re never going to get past this.
Great.
Drake turns back to me. “Are you teaching the eleven o’clock vinyasa class?”
I shake my head. “I switched with Allison so we could spend the day together,” I say, gesturing to my family. Dad’s going to meet us at The Blue Dog for lunch, but after that I want to find Drew.
Just the thought of him centers me in the midst of this awkward moment with Drake, Mom, and Tori.
Drake gives a disappointed moue. The expression looks ridiculous on him. “Darn. The schedule had your name on it. I was hoping I could talk you into getting a bite with me after class.”
To my horror, Mom looks genuinely sorry. “Oh, I wish she could, Drake, but we’re having a family lunch today. Maybe—”
“Mom,” I cut in, determined to stop her from making any plans for me with Drake Jordan. She eyes me, clearly surprised at the sharpness of my tone. I ignore her and face Drake, squaring my shoulders. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m seeing someone.”
It’s almost impossible to believe, but all three of them — Mom, Tori, and Drake — have the exact same response. They all look like they’ve been slapped with a dead fish.
Drake’s face screws into a frown. “Not that criminal who threatened me on your doorstep,” he says with disgust.
“Oh my God.” Mom gasps, whipping her gaze to me.
“Wait, what?” Wide-eyed, Tori ping pongs her focus between Drake and me.
I’m shaking my head. “He didn’t threaten anyone.”
“Evie,” Mom scolds. “When was this?”
“Drew didn’t threaten anyone, Mom. I swear.” I turn back to Drake. “Drake, be serious. Tell them what really happened.”
He sniffs derisively. “You mean when I was walking you to your door, and he jumped out of the bushes, got in my face, and told me he’d just gotten out of prison?”
I open my mouth to protest, but then I realize what he’s saying is true. Mostly. It’s just the way he’s saying it sounds bad. Really bad.
Shit.
I face my mother, who looks traumatized. “He wasn’t in the bushes. Drew was going for a walk.”
She’s not listening. It’s written all over her face. Her eyes are on me, but she’s not even seeing me. She’s picturing a headline or a crime scene photo. One involving me. “Mom, listen to me. Drew was just walking by while Drake and I were talking. He heard some things he didn’t like, and he came to make sure I was okay. That’s all. That’s all, Mom.”
Drake doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to feel guilty. But he remembers exactly what was going on that night. I know he does. And if Tori looked like it was Christmas morning a few minutes ago, now it’s like she’s won the frickin’ lottery.
“I told you he sounded violent,” Tori says with a practiced lack of malice in her tone. She sounds so calm, so reasonable, so unlike Tori, I almost snap.
“He was looking out for me,” I defend, feeling that all to familiar flush of protectiveness for Drew. “It’s what he always does.”