“Don’t know, let’s find out.” She runs out of the room, and seconds later, “Miles!”
Crap, I didn’t expect him here so early. I’m still in grubby gray sweats and a volleyball T-shirt. Miles was practically a brother to me when we were younger, but it’s weird now for him to see me like this. Keely’s pajamas are cute, while I look like a hobo, so of course she invites him inside.
“You’re here early,” she chimes, “but come on in.”
Miles walks through the archway to the kitchen wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off the lean muscles on his arms.
“Hi,” I peep.
“How’s it going?” He sits in front of me and smiles.
“Mr. Hendricks.” Roger walks over. “I’m seeing a lot of you in the last twenty-four hours. How are your folks?”
“Hi again, Chief Myers. They’re good, I’ll tell them you said hi.” He pauses. “Sorry to ask, but did you guys find anything else out about what happened last night?”
At least Miles had the guts to ask what I couldn’t.
“Sorry, son. Nothing yet.”
“Damn, that’s too bad,” Miles says. “Anyway, I actually came over to ask you something else. Since it’s sort of a special occasion that Liv’s back in town, I asked my parents if we could hang out at our family’s cabin for a couple days. But I wanted to make sure it was okay if I invited Keely and Liv to come.”
The Hendrickses’ cabin was Miles’s favorite place to go when we were kids, but it’s outside of town, so we only went when his parents brought us. It was the one place where Miles felt like a king; West was never there, and I wasn’t bossy, so we played whatever games Miles wanted and swam in the lake nearby. As much as I’d love to see it again, the request catches me off guard. It’s only my second day here, and I haven’t even adjusted to Keely’s house yet. Besides, movie night with Keely sounded just like old times.
Roger’s brows furrow. “I don’t know . . .” He looks at Keely. “Do you want to go, Lemon?”
Keely glances at me, then to her dad. “I mean, hell yeah, of course I do!”
“Olivia?”
Everyone’s eyes fall on me, and I tense up.
“Sure,” I say. I don’t want to become The Grinch of Summer, I just hope I can catch some sleep, because the irritated, dry sensation in my brain really sucks.
Sun sets a bowl on the table, and steam rises from the orangey-red liquid. “Will anyone else be going, Miles?”
“Nope, just us. And maybe my sister.”
Faye. I was bound to see her eventually but was hoping to put it off for a while longer.
“I don’t see a problem with it,” Roger says. “As long as you girls keep your phones on in case we need you. And it goes without saying: no drinking, no sex, no—”
“Dad!” Keely exclaims. “It’s just Miles. We’re not doing any of that.”
It’s both impressive and scary how good Keely is at lying. Roger eats it up like a bowl of ice cream, even pats her head with a warm smile.
“I know, Lemon. You’re the responsible one.”
“I’ll call your parents, Olivia,” Sun says. “Just to let them know the plan.”
“Okay, so we’re good?” Miles stands. “My dad’s going to let me borrow his Jag, so after you guys get packed, come to my place, and we’ll drive over.”
Keely shouts, “Yes! Can’t wait!”
I’m probably going to regret this.
A giraffe-shaped tree looms over our heads as Keely and I walk the cobblestone path to the Hendricks estate, our backpacks thrown over our shoulders, the afternoon sun hot and sticky. English ivy intertwines on the reddish-brown brick of the mansion that towers three stories above us. Keely knocks on a mahogany door that looks like it’s built to accommodate seven-foot tall giants. An iron hanger shaped like a snarling lion’s head is mounted to the center of it, and when no one answers, Keely bangs that too. Birds flock from a cherry blossom nearby.
“Okeydokey, no one’s getting the door,” she grumbles. “Maybe he’s around back.” Keely adjusts her crop top. “Want to go check? I’ll keep on knock, knock, knocking.”
“I guess.”
Leaving Keely at the front door, I crunch across the gravel of the driveway to the side of the house. This excessively huge estate has been in the Hendricks family for generations. Miles’s great-grandfather, Barron Hendricks, sold gunpowder in the early 1900s, which made him a millionaire. Since then, the estate has been passed down to the eldest son. If that’s their family tradition, then it should go to West next . . . but considering he’s “disowned,” I’m sure Miles will be the one to inherit this property. Personally, I never understood why anyone would want to live here, anyway—there’s too much space, and it intimidates me.
I’m hidden behind the hedges when I hear voices.
“Look, the money’s not for me. It’s for Amelia.” West. I didn’t even see his car, but the parking lot does extend along the other side of their house.
“Amelia isn’t here, is she?” That baritone voice belongs to Brian Hendricks, West’s father. “Weston, if you ever hope to become a part of this family again, you’d better clean your goddamn act up.”
“Fuck off, seriously? I work harder than Miles and Faye could ever imagine. Forget it, I don’t want to be part of your messed-up, narcissistic family.”
My feet are frozen in the grass, my back pressed to the wall, and the thorns prick my skin through my blue tank top. If I get caught, West will think—
“Olivia?”
Crap.
West appears in front of me, his eyebrows pulled together. “Were you eavesdropping on us?”
“No, I was just, I was—”
“What did you hear?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Whatever, bye.”
I jog in front of him, stopping him. “West, wait.”
With our bodies so close, his face changes—his anger fades, and a flicker of something I don’t recognize takes over. I take a step back, embarrassed by my rashness. Where did I get the guts to stop him?
“What?” he asks.
“Are you all right?”
West rubs his eye with the palm of his left hand, just like he did when he was a little kid. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just frustrated with my dad. Look, sorry I snapped just now. I didn’t mean to.”