3. Hannah

Hannah

December

“ I ’m not going!”

“Like hell, you’re not! I’m giving a speech. You’re expected.”

Missy growls dramatically, stomping her foot the same way she does every time she and our mother get into a fight. “I’m sick and tired of going to these stupid charity benefits. I don’t care about these people and neither do you!”

“Your sister’s not complaining,” Mom fires back and Missy’s ire is then turned on me.

Thanks, Mom.

“Because she’s too afraid of you. You’re both pathetic.”

And cue the belligerent disrespect that always goes unchecked.

I’m used to Missy and Mom and their tender way of throwing me under the bus whenever they get into an argument. The only reason I’m complaining now is the blistering migraine throbbing in my temple.

The girls from Kappa NU and I went out to celebrate Christmas before we went our separate ways for the holidays, last night. I guess one drink led to five and now, I’m paying the price.

So, donned in the golden Tom Ford evening gown Mom picked out for me, I sit in the foyer of the LA mansion, practically begging the Advil to take over and hoping to God Missy stops screaming soon.

Of course, in true Missy fashion, though, she doesn’t.

“You’re going and that’s final,” Mom snaps, face red under her perfect blonde French twist. “Go change. You’re embarrassing me.” Mom waves a hand to the people waiting in the foyer. Her staff, right-hand woman, and I suspect, secret lover, June. My best friend Michael. Mom’s driver, Donatello.

I roll my eyes. As if none of them haven’t seen Missy throw a fit before.

Missy opens her mouth to refuse again, but Mom stops her with a look. I know that look. It’s a warning. One more toe out of line and the already dire consequences will turn into dictator-like punishment.

“I hate you!” Missy spits at Mom, storming back up the stairs to her room. Seconds later, her door slams with enough force to rattle my brain.

“Christ,” Mom grits in her gentle Virginian accent, patting down her already perfect hair. “You would think I had asked her to chop off a limb.”

“It’s okay,” June soothes, placing a hand on Mom’s arm. She’s good at diffusion situations, especially with Missy. I suppose that’s part of why Mom keeps her around, apart from her . . . other talents. “Hannah can go speak with her. We have to go.”

“Let’s not,” I shoot back, and everyone’s eyes turn on me. My cheeks burn red under their gaze. I’m not used to being the center of attention. That position is normally filled with either Mom or Missy. Truth be told, I’d rather remain in the background. It’s simpler there.

Less yelling.

June shoots me a look, warning me not to upset my mother any more than she already is and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Right about now, I’m pretty tired of everyone in my general vicinity. I just want to get this benefit over with, come back home, and climb into a bubble bath. Now that Mom’s governor, we’ve been splitting our time between LA and Sacramento, though I prefer Los Angeles. Mom’s agreed to let me stay this time, with the promise that I won’t do anything stupid, but I think she just wants me to keep an eye on Missy.

Always babysitting Missy.

“No, that’s a good idea,” Mom murmurs, completely disregarding I already said no. “She’ll talk to you if no one else is around.”

“Then it’s settled.” June smiles at me, not even bothering to hide the triumph in her gaze. “Hannah, you go and get Missy ready and the rest of us will head over. We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”

“Of course.”

Mom stares at me for a moment, as if she’s testing me to see if I’ll argue with her again, but I know better. I’m not an idiot.

She nods once and then she and June head toward the door with the rest of the party while I prepare myself for the mental warfare that comes with calming down my sister.

“You look like shit,” Michael chuckles quietly, joining me now that everyone has dissolved into idle chit-chat about tonight’s events.

“Thank you,” I grimace.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmurs. “I meant you look like you don’t feel well. You actually look beautiful right now.”

Actually?

Ass.

“Wait,” he calls, following me as I climb to the second floor. “That wasn’t right, either.”

“Is this about what my mother said?”

If awkward tension was a liquid, we’d be drowning in it right now.

“Well—”

“Michael,” I stop on the landing, lowering my voice now that we’re out of eyesight of everyone downstairs. “You’re making things awkward by worrying about what my mother thinks.” His eyes flash with something incredulous before it’s quickly replaced. “You and I both know we’re just friends. Isn’t that enough?”

He lets out a deep sigh, shrugging.

“Of course. But what if there’s something there we’re not seeing that she is?”

“There’s not, though.”

I roll my eyes, resuming my trek toward Missy’s room. He follows along behind me.

“You don’t think so?”

“Michael, I’m really not in the mood to have this conversation.”

He cocks his head. “When, then?”

I ignore him, stopping in front of Missy’s door, agitation winding through me.

“Missy put the damn dress on and let’s go.”

Michael stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, but right now, my head is nearly splitting in half.

No answer.

“Missy!” I yell, banging my fist so hard on the wooden door, my hand tingles.

Still no answer.

So, like a thin, invisible string, my temper snaps.

“You’re twenty-one years old. Stop acting like a whiny brat and let’s go!”

“Hannah,” Michael cautions, holding a hand out to stop me. Coincidentally, his palm brushes my stomach and I shrink back. His eyes darken before he turns away.

“Missy, it’s Michael. Can you please come tonight?”

“Doing my sister’s bidding won’t make her love you, Michael.”

I wince at her words muffled through the door.

Damn, Missy. You just had to go there .

Michael seems to take it in stride, though, chuckling and shaking his head.

“You Gaines girls should become lawyers,” he says to me. “Come on, Missy. It’s just for a night and then things will die down for a while.”

“No, they won’t. You forgot New Year's.”

He looks back at me across the hall for help and I shrug.

“You did.”

He growls under his breath and shakes his head.

“Missy—”

“Just let me handle it,” I say softly. He looks down to where my hand rests on his arm as if I am personally responsible for the death of his grandmother.

“That’s the first time you’ve touched me in months,” he says quietly, jaw tightening.

And then, without a word, he retreats down the hallway to go with my mother.

I let out a sigh, staring after him with all manner of conflicting emotions hurtling about my head.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

One night to destroy a happy, fifteen-year friendship.

To make matters worse—a night I regret more than anything else in my life.

And then, I’m back to thinking about Missy’s illicit affair with Marcus Parker.

To my knowledge, she hasn’t stopped and in fact, he’s been doting on her more in the last couple months. Since she got a job working for him, she’s been gone a lot and I haven’t spoken to her about it any more than for her to tell me to “mind my own fucking business”.

I know it’s wrong, but . . . what can I do? Forbid her from seeing him? Like that will do anything. All I can do is try to show her how wrong it is, but she doesn’t care.

I thought about mentioning it to Mom, but God knows she can’t be trusted. For all I know, she could have put her up to it.

“Missy?” I tap lightly on her door, but she doesn’t answer. The silence is nearly deafening. “Missy, please let me in. Are you okay?”

“Fuck off, Hannah.”

I bite back the retort on the tip of my tongue. This is just her getting out her anger for our mother. I’m used to it. Fighting with her won’t make it better.

“Missy, I know you’re angry, but Mom was only trying to—” Before I can finish my sentence she flings the door open. Her hair flies around her face in a wild tangle, her eyes and cheeks red from crying.

“ Don’t finish that sentence,” she growls, fresh tears glistening in her hateful gaze.

I falter for a moment, stepping back from the venomous rage that seeps off her in waves.

“I’m sorry. I was only going to say she just wants us there. I don’t think she was trying to upset you. It’s Christmas. We always spend Christmas together.”

“That’s the problem,” she spits through clenched teeth. “You don’t think . You just say whatever nonsense comes to mind and expect everyone to listen to it as if it’s gospel. Well, I’m not one of your little friends you can order around.”

It’s at that moment, I realize, I really don’t know my sister at all anymore.

All the times I’ve stayed to coax her out of her room. All the times I’ve tried to comfort her after a particularly bad fight between her and our mother.

All the punishments I endured to save her . . .

“Go to hell, Missy,” I snap, turning to march away from her. “Don’t expect me to save you this time.”

A hand clasps in the ends of my hair, yanking me back and I let out a startled cry of pain.

Missy pulls me backward until I fall to the ground at her feet, banging my head on the tile floor in the process. She crouches down over me, taking my chin in her hand and gripping my skin painfully until her manicured fingernails dig in.

“In case you forgot, dear, stupid , sweet sister, we were born in hell.”

And then she’s off me and slamming the door in my face while I lay there, sputtering and disoriented.