Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) (16 page)

A shrill cry comes from the next room, followed by the trampling of footsteps descending downstairs.

I run down after them to see what the ruckus is all about.

“You freaking bitch!” Mia screams at the top of her lungs. Her voice curls the last word out like an opera singer. She’s shakes something furry at Melissa, causing an all-out slap fight to ensue.

Drake and Ethan jump in to break it up.

Something about Mia looks different: her hair is in a weird bun or clipped over her head or, oh freaking shit! It’s
gone
.

“Look what she did.” Mia thrusts a fistful of her golden locks in Mom and Tad’s direction. “She hacked off my fucking
hair
!” She bursts into a ball of tears and I head over and wrap my arms around my newly crop-haired sister.

“Melissa,” Mom gasps, “how could you?”

Melissa sucks back tears—her chest heaves in a panic. “She started it.”

“I was sleeping!” It drills out of Mia like a whistle.

“You’re lucky that’s all I hacked off!” Melissa’s face turns a violent shade of purple, and for the first time, I see the resemblance between her and her father.

“That’s e-
nough
!” Tad barks so loud that even the dog freezes in his tracks. “I can’t believe you would hack your sister’s hair off like that!” His eyes bug out. I’m actually a little proud of him for sticking up for a Messenger for once. Well, former Messenger anyway, since she decided to get her name changed and switched teams. “Mia!” He growls at her as if this were somehow her fault. “What did you do to provoke this level of insanity?”

Never mind. He’s still the ass I always knew he was.

“I didn’t do anything!” She fills the room with a consistent level of drama.

“This is over that stupid boy, isn’t it?” I step between them. I’m so sick of this fighting. The island is rife with plenty of adolescent males to go around, Gage being one of them.

Neither of them says a word. They just cross their arms and glower at one another, certifying the fact I hit the Armistead nail on the arrogant blond head.

“Neither of you is allowed to look at a boy all summer,” Tad crows.

“
Oh
.” Mom averts her eyes. “Now there’s a viable punishment. Why don’t you just give them a pocketful of cash and drop them off at the mall and tell them shopping’s off limits, too.”

My heart thumps.

I hate that Mom and Tad are starting to fight in front of us with an alarming level of frequency. Sure, the occasional squabble was exciting to bear witness to, and sure the idea of Mom divorcing Tad and moving to greener financial pastures seemed lucrative at the time, but now with Demetri in the picture, all of this verbal scrimmaging seems like nothing but a bad omen.   

“What kind of punishment do you see fit—
honey
?” He says the cute moniker with an aggressive amount of sarcasm reserved for future ex-husbands the world over.

“I say we let Mia decide.” Mom gives a defiant nod.

Sure—put a hormonal, and might I add, very pissed off, thirteen-year-old in charge of punitive damages where her evil step sister is concerned. Melissa just took a bad hair day to a whole new level. I’m not sure Mia can come up with anything crazy enough to compensate.

“Mia?” Mom nods. “Take your time and think up an equitable punishment to give your sister. I’m sure once you kids realize the punishment is going to be doled out by the one you decide to pick on, things are really going to change around here.”

Things are going to change all right, starting with hairstyles.

“OK.” Mia circles Melissa, eyeing her long flowing tresses. “I get to cut Melissa’s hair.”

“No way!” Melissa jumps back as if Mia’s fistful of follicles has magically morphed into a thousand blond garden snakes.  

“Yes,” Mia says it sweetly. “I promise to do a nice, neat trim. I’ll get a bowl and everything.”

“Daddy, you’re not going to let her do this, are you?” Melissa’s widows peak engages in perfect V formation as her forehead creases with concern.

Tad cuts a quick look to Mom. “If your mother here deems it a fit punishment, then I’m on board!” He shouts it at Mom. It comes out more of a threat than an alliance.

“Well, I do!” Mom shouts back.

“Nice to see everyone getting along so famously.” Ethan heads to the fridge. “By the way, Chloe’s parents are heading off to Europe for a few weeks. She’ll be crashing here for a while.”

“What?” I speed over and snatch him by the wrist before he has a chance to mine the fridge of its anemic offerings. “She will not crash here. You crash there. Are you a dolt? She’ll have an empty house. Think of all the promiscuous possibilities!”

He considers this a moment. “Empty is the problem.” He pulls his wrist free and swoops a soda out. “Who’s going to buy all the food? Cook? And what about fresh boxers? I only got about a week’s worth, tops. Besides, she’s forking over a cool grand as rent.”

Tad clears his throat. “Chloe is more than welcome to seek room and board in our home.” He espouses with a reserved calm. The idea of Chloe as a revenue of income pleases him to no end. Obviously the fornicating arrangement is overlooked when hard cold cash is forked over, not that Tad ever blinked at the copulating palooza.  

I open my mouth to refute the idea, and nothing but a series of choking sounds emit.

“Relax.” Ethan leans in. “I’m using her. I’m still really pissed she gutted me like a fish. She’s worth more to me in my bed than dead.” He walks off after making his moronic sexual proclamation.

“OK, girls.” Tad claps at Mia and Melissa. “Make up six or seven dozen hot dogs. Your brothers and I have a training session this afternoon.”

Mom brings her hand to her mouth in disgust.

I’m right there with her, ready to puke at the thought of Chloe, my own little Frankenstein, sharing downtime with me like a real live legal relation. Looks like Mia and Melissa won’t be the only fake sisters trying to off each other this summer.

And God knows Chloe has more to fear than losing her tresses.

***

Chloe shows up while the ‘rents are still hammering out the finer details of the hair affair.

“With all of this bitching and moaning, I’m beginning to feel right at home,” she says it low, for my ears only.

“Soon, you’ll be the one bitching and I’ll be the one moaning,” I quip, eyeing an entire row of bright red suitcases behind her.

“Correction, you’ll be the one bitching about how you lost all trust in Gage, and I’ll be the one moaning. And believe me, it won’t be you evoking that pleasure-filled response in me. Would you like to guess who that certain someone might be?”

Ethan walks by and belches for effect.

“I hope he gives you rabies,” I hiss.

“More like scabies, and you’re wrong again. Think Oliver.” She glides into a smile of faux sexual satisfaction. “The feelings I have for Gage are mutual. Does that scare you, Skyla? Does it frighten you to think it could be me wrapped in his arms
forever
?”

My stomach cinches when she says the buzzword. Have I shared that with her before? Good God, had he?

“The only thing that frightens me, Chloe, is that you keep lessening the six degrees of separation in our lives.” And something tells me she won’t stop until she takes over my body. Knowing Chloe, that concept is very much on the table.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Skyla. I happen to hate living alone, and I do enjoy your family. Too bad you’re in it.”

“The nice thing about you shacking up with Ethan is…” I sharpen my gaze on her. “Oh wait, there isn’t anything nice about it. I don’t appreciate you using any member of my family. Get your own damn family, Chloe. For that matter, why don’t you just shack up with the Olivers?” Immediate regret sets in before the words have a chance to settle in the air.

Crap. With my luck, Emma would welcome Chloe with open arms. I seriously hate this backward version of my former life, a.k.a my new reality.

“Well…” She sighs. “I’d better get settled in.” She motions behind her at the army of angry suitcases as if she expects me to schlep them to Ethan’s room for her.

“Good luck.” I blink an irritated smile. “Hope you break a leg.”

“You say that to actors, stupid.”

“You’re so fake, I think you qualify.”

She pulls her head back and barks out a laugh.

Mom sweeps by on her way upstairs and cuts us an approving look. “It’s so nice that you girls get along.”

Chloe steps in as my mother drifts down the hall and shouts, “Oh, Skyla and I get along infamously.”

Infamously is right.

I lean into Chloe once my mother is out of sight. “I bet that’s how this relationships ends—infamously.”

She turns and gives the curve of a wicked smile. “You can bet your foolish little ass that’s exactly how it’ll end it. I’ll take you down so horrifically they’ll chant about it in the schoolyard while skipping rope. People everywhere will shudder when they hear your name. I’ll be sure to off you so grotesquely the entire Western Hemisphere will gawk at your misfortune on the Internet news between checking their emails and hopping on Facebook. Isn’t that exciting, Skyla? You’ll get your fifteen minutes. You’ll be the star your father always knew you’d be.”

I connect the open palm of my hand with her cheek in one swift blow, and my flesh stings from the sheer velocity.

She draws her fingers to her face, stunned that I had the balls to slap her, on this, the first night she’s a paying guest in our home. Chloe reaches for a suitcase behind her and starts wheeling it toward her new living quarters.

She pauses and turns back. “Chloe Bishop took an ax and gave Skanky Skyla forty whacks. And when she saw what she had done, she gave her family forty-one.”

A tingle of fear rises through my spine as Chloe cackles her way into Ethan’s bedroom.

Chloe Bishop is certifiably insane.

And dear God almighty—I do believe she’s going to kill us all.

***

Not one to waste time where revenge is concerned, Mia quickly pulls a chair into the middle of the kitchen where Mom suggests the “mane” atrocity take place. Both Mom and Tad run upstairs to avoid the carnage, and I’m left to supervise my scissor-wielding sister while Chloe gleefully watches from the sidelines.

“Just a trim,” Melissa snaps. Her fingers are pressed to her forehead from the stress of it all.

She should have thought about how shitty the payback was going to be while she was busy hacking off my sister’s beautiful golden locks. All Mia is left with is a bunch of fuzz in the back and a few long strands framing her face. Come to think of it, she might be able to get away with a bastardized ponytail. She should totally replicate the effort on Melissa and they could both wear lopsided “retribution ponies” for the next few months. Before I can make the suggestion, Mia scoops up Melissa’s dark hair and starts in with a quick cutting motion until it disconnects in a jagged line at the neck.

“Crap, Mia,” I hiss. “It looks like a rat gnawed her hair off in her sleep.”

“What?” Melissa shrieks.

“Relax!” Mia barks, “I’m going to fix it. It’ll be cute. I’m sure by the time summer is over, every girl at Paragon Intermediate will be wearing the same stupid look.”

I doubt entitling Melissa’s new, slightly unbecoming hairstyle as a
stupid look
is the best idea while her victim is still patiently waiting for the torment to end. Call me crazy, but I’m not entirely sure spitting out the phrase
I’m going to fix it
while seething with anger is a selling point either.

“Sit still,” Mia instructs as she circles around to the front.

“No bangs.” Melissa yelps. “Not fair, I didn’t give you bangs.”

“Shut up, would you?” Mia pinches up her hair in the front and holds the scissors even with her eyes. “I’ve told you a million times you need to hide that hook that hangs halfway down your forehead. “I’m doing you a favor.”

I’m with Mia on this one. Bangs would totally be a good look for Melissa—in theory.

Mia continues snipping and cutting until Melissa sports the most geometrical haircut known to man—if only it were straight. It’s so damn choppy, Melissa’s going to have to run, not walk, to the nearest beauty salon to rectify this catastrophe.

“Cleopatra called.” Chloe snipes to the helpless Landon. “She wants her haircut back.”

Melissa’s mouth drops open and she runs upstairs with one long wail expelling from her lungs. Mia runs after her with the scissors still firmly planted in her hand. Obviously, safety rules such as running with scissors have been overlooked in this household, as were the dangers of running with your sister’s boyfriend, who, by the way, I really blame for this entire hairy mess.

I swat Chloe on the arm. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that if you don’t have anything nice to say, you should keep your mouth shut?”

Chloe would be vying for the world record in silence if she ever implemented that rule. I should have kept her
coffin
shut. That would have saved a whole lot of heartache.

Chloe scoffs. “My mother wouldn’t waste her time on stupid maxims like that. She focused on much more honest truths, like, if you see something you want, go out and get it. That’s what I do, Skyla. I get what I want.”

Gage fills the silence between us like a ghost.

That might be the first truth to ever come from Chloe Bishop’s mouth.    

Chapter 23

The World at Your Feet

In the cool of the evening, as I audition high heels for my date with Logan, I get a text from the other, much less tolerable yet, disturbingly desirable Oliver—Gage.

I had a dream about you. A vision. I would really like to share it. Can I see you tonight?

I stare at the words an inordinate amount of time.

My heart yearns to see Gage, to know what his dream was, what it might mean, but I don’t answer. I’m just not ready to listen to whatever excuses he’s come up with. I can see it now, Gage opening his mouth and an entire stream of lies pouring from him like water from a fire hydrant knocked off its base. And yet, something in my soul leans toward Gage like a wilted flower begging for light. My entire being misses his attention. I wish I didn’t. I wish he and Chloe would hook up for good and get the final phase of this spectacular heartbreak over with. I just need to get over Gage once and for all and put this misery behind me.