Dead Little Mean Girl by Eva Darrows

Author:Eva Darrows
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Leaving J.T.’s was a blur. There were catcalls, and laughter, and Nikki swearing at a lot of people on her way out the door, but I didn’t stick around to see how bad it could get. I was too embarrassed. People probably didn’t believe what Quinn said, but if it was funny enough or mean enough, kids didn’t need to actually believe something to use it to bludgeon their peers.

Me. Emma MacLaren.

Hershey MacLaren.

I drove home mad, which was probably as bad as driving home drunk as I could barely see the stop signs and traffic lights even with my glasses on. I parked on the left of the driveway, leaving the right open for Mom when she got back. I had every intention of busting into my kitchen and going straight to Karen with fiery declarations and hellfire, but as I stormed up the driveway, I heard Karen shout into her phone. A glimpse at her profile showed me a red face and trembling shoulders.

I hesitated on the front step. I didn’t want to barge in on what was supposed to be a family moment. Not a happy family moment, but a family moment all the same. Sure, standing outside was voyeuristic, but what else was I supposed to do, sit in the car and pretend I didn’t live there?

“Please calm down. I’m not askin—No, of course I don’t love her more than you and I’m not taking sides! But you’re... Quinlan.”

There was a pause. Karen sucked in a breath, her head dropping into her hand. “Quinn, please. Listen to me. You’re making life hard for everyone. Yes, I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry for it, bu... Quinn. She’s not a bad kid, you... Quinn? Hello, Quinn? Are you there?”

She dropped the phone to the table and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms.

How do you win against that?

How?

It defused some of my anger. Not all, but enough that I managed to walk into the house and not scream profanities about Karen’s sucktastic offspring. When the door clattered shut behind me, Karen lifted her face to look at me, her misery palpable.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know.” The desire to tell her about the butt thing was overwhelming, but it wouldn’t change anything. Quinn would still ignore her. Quinn would go on punishing her for the divorce and maybe her sexuality and definitely her relationship to me. Quinn was the terrible constant in the equation of our family.

At least the lack of proximity meant the screaming wasn’t in person any longer.

But she doesn’t need to be here to ruin me, remember?

“I’m going up to do my homework,” I muttered.

“Oh, Emma.” Karen snatched my hand before I could go. Her fingers were cold, icy, as she laced them around mine. “You’re an awesome kid. You don’t deserve this. I was—am—a crappy mom. I have no idea what to do with Quinn. I’ll keep trying, though. Maybe I can ask her doctor or... I don’t know.”

She didn’t know, but I did.

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