021 - Fourth-to-last Time

The weekend came way too fast. No schedules with Mr. Langston, but the days after that hellish Monday were jam-packed. I was stuck babysitting Tahlia’s wounded heart while scheming the perfect meetup for Miss Laurent and Mr. Langston.I opened my wardrobe after my shower, skimming through the many sundresses hanging in neat, colorful rows. Two rows in and I was still skeptical about which one to pick. A soft yellow, a floral blue and I finally plucked a white cotton piece off the hanger, pressing it against my towelled body as I walked over to the full length mirror.Tilting my head from side to side, I admired my pick as I ran my fingers through my straight hair.It’s added a little length.What’s this newfound gorgeousness?I’d had the urge to color it especially after Tahlia went from brunette to burgundy, but Mr. Langston’s very vocal hatred for blondes had made me want to keep mine exactly as it is. I played with the strands. “Should I lighten it, or—”A wet choking retch came f

022 - What Exactly Have You Done?

I raised the test stick up, squinting at it.“Andrea freaking Thompson!” she yelled, sounding one second away from kicking it down. “If you don’t answer me, I swear I’m filing a missing persons report!”I burst out laughing, slipping the kit behind my back as I headed to where she was. Her eyes were still blazing.“I won,” I finally announced.“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Am I preg—” She froze. “Oh my God. Oh my God. If I am, I’m literally going to pass out.”I smirked, shoving the kit against her chest. She snatched it, her eyes darting over it like a gambler reading the final card. “If you were pregnant, it would've been a disaster,” I said. “Which is exactly why I won.”Tahlia exhaled so hard her whole body sagged. She fell to the floor. “One red line. Not two. Jesus. I just got my life back.”“And maybe learned that if you insist on having sex, you should at least do it safely.”“No. No, no, no.” She pointed the test at me. “What I should do is keep at least three p

023 - Confused As Hell

“Yeah. You've done nothing for this family, Andrea. And also, not everyone needs to work.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder. “Some of us are born to be queens.”I stood, dazed.I sent money whenever Mom called unless I genuinely didn’t have any. I even secretly covered Liz’s fees more than twice, quietly funneling it through Anthony so it looked like it came from him.Why did she make it sound like I did nothing?We walked into the kitchen in silence.Mom was at the counter, completely oblivious to us, dancing lightly to the music playing through AirPods that glowed in her ears.The kitchen looked incredible too. New cabinets, fresh paint. Copper pots were hanging over the stove.She reached for two tomatoes, about to cut, but the dish towel tucked at her side slipped to the floor.She bent, looked up and then realized.“My girls!” she cried out, flopping out the AirPods. I ran into her arms, laughing.When we pulled apart, I noticed the streaks of gray in her hair. It made my

024 - Everything Changed

We were all still standing, smiling. I never understood the point of a forced smile. Why fake it? Why stretch your lips so wide your cheeks hurt just to pretend everything was fine?I had so many questions to ask my mom, and even more to ask my weirdly calm sister. She said Mom and her man threw Anthony out. “Man”.It’s not that I didn’t support same-sex relationships, but my mom had never given the slightest hint. She adored masculine affection openly, enthusiastically, sometimes embarrassingly just like Tahlia and Liz.Am I not supposed to be surprised?Denise eventually closed her teeth, nodding as she spoke. “You look so much like Eloise.”Her voice sounded as that of woman who smoked cigars in a penthouse overlooking the city. Low and gravelly, almost masculine. “I don’t think so,” Mom objected, running her fingers through my hair. “Liz looks more like me. Andrea is everything like her father. They both worship working themselves to death and getting absolutely nowhere.”The

025 - Oysters & Views

***• Everett •***The date was set in the rooftop pool deck of The Westbury Vale. I made sure I didn't over exert myself, leaving most of the arrangements for Claire to handle, and heading on there at the stroke of noon.Colourful canopies were lined at the edge of the pool deck, and while I walked the stony pathway, a low, velvety RnB track filtered into the atmosphere, syncing with my steps and bringing the picture of someone I never wanted to reminisce about to mind.I fluttered my eyes open and close several times, surging ahead now wondering how powerful music was. One note could bring back both wanted and unwanted memories.At the far end of the deck, I caught a glimpse of her. She was clad in a satin slip dress, sitting under a striped cabana umbrella. I approached her in quick steps, but at that moment, a young man passed the table close to where she sat.He was struck by her face and paused, muttering something I didn’t hear. Before I could so much as blink, he yanked his p

026 - The Wrong Kind Of Chemistry

Her eyes turned glassy in an instant. She grabbed her clutch bag, bumping into me as she hurried away. I brushed at the slick stain on my shirt, sweeping it off with mild irritation. “Too temperamental for a model.”From the corner of my eye, I watched her pull her phone out of her bag. Within seconds, she pressed it to her ear.I savored the view one last time, with one of my brows slightly raised.It was time to get home and get to business. A few hours of distraction was already too much for a man who intended to be exceptional.Appearing in Vogue as the state's leading real estate magnate was my goal by next fall.I began to head out in slow, deliberate steps.Walking over the porcelain pavers, through distant chatter, I slid my hands into my pockets and let out a quiet sigh. The distance to my car suddenly felt excessive for a failed date.“Everett.”I turned to the right, mildly startled to find Andrea Thompson standing at the edge, where the pavers met the stairway down. Did