My aunt saw the uncertainty on my face. “Don’t worry about your mom. I’ll talk to her. You need a good computer for school.”
Her tone brooked no arguments, so I nodded. My current laptop was clunky and constantly crashing—often midsentence as I worked on an assignment. We couldn’t possibly afford a new one, so I hadn’t even mentioned it to my parents.
Aunt Emily took the laptop out of my hands again and set it on the bench. “You go on out to the pool. I’ll have the drinks and a snack brought out to you before I head off to lunch.”
“Thanks, Auntie Em.”
I did as she said, making my way through the open-plan living area, out through the French doors, and down another manicured path toward the pool. I would much rather have just gone to the fridge and gotten the damn drinks myself than deal with the awkwardness of having a servant bring things, but there was no point arguing with my aunt.
The pool was as ostentatious as the house, with curving edges, natural stone paving, and lush landscaping, complete with stunning views of California’s natural landscape. Umbrella-shaded loungers lined one side, towels already placed neatly on each one. I toed off my flip-flops and whipped my tank top off over my head as voices preceded the arrival of the others.
The girls walked up before I could get my shorts off. Donna and Harlow spotted me, and matching evil grins pulled at their faces.
“No,” I said as firmly as I could, throwing my arms out in front of me.
They shared a look and sprinted directly for me. Neither one seemed to give a shit that they were still fully clothed in their tennis gear as they tackled me into the water. All three of us splashed into the pool in a tangle of limbs and hair.
“Oh man, that’s refreshing,” Harlow yelled as we surfaced, spluttering and laughing. They waded to the edge of the pool and got out, removing their sodden tennis shoes.
“You guys are such dicks!” I smacked the water on either side of me, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my face.
“Hey, you wanted to get in the pool,” Donna teased, and I flipped her off. Somehow, her short, sleek haircut still looked neat and cute even plastered to her head.
“You did want to get in the pool.” Perfectly dry and unruffled, Amaya flipped her shiny black hair over her shoulder, lit another cigarette, and unhurriedly lowered her perfect ass to one of the loungers.
The sisters headed to the pool house to get their bathing suits, shedding wet white clothing as they went.
“Whose side are you on?” I arched a brow at Amaya as I headed toward the ladder, the denim tight around my hips. The shorts would be a pain in the ass to get off.
“Mine.” She shrugged. “Always mine.”
Just as I reached the ladder, a servant in black shorts and a collared T-shirt came down the path, carrying a tray laden with drinks and snacks.
I ducked my head and pushed off the ladder, diving back under the water. Better to deal with the wet denim for a few more minutes than deal with someone I didn’t know looking at my gross face.
I surfaced at the deep end and took big gulps of air, facing the verdant plants on the other side of the pool.
“He’s gone,” Amaya announced. She had stripped down to a white bikini that practically glowed against her smooth dark skin, her black hair gathered into a messy bun on top of her head.
I sighed in relief and swam back to the ladder. She gave me a warm smile as she waded in at the shallow end. The girls knew how self-conscious I was of my face, but they also knew I didn’t like talking about it.
Donna and Harlow came back out wearing swimsuits that probably cost more than my whole wardrobe, with geometric mesh cutouts, and joined us in the pool.
“I wish you went to our school, Mena.” Harlow pouted.
“Yeah, senior year would be epic with all of us together,” Donna agreed. Donna was born eleven months before Harlow, making them as close in age as sisters could be without being twins.
I nodded before kicking my legs up to float on my back. “Me too.”
I’d have given anything to go to their fancy private school, where I’d actually have friends. But I was stuck at my shitty public school, where I wished I didn’t exist—on a good day.
We spent the rest of the day by the pool, listening to music and talking, the girls telling me about their time away. We had lunch brought to us and hardly left the loungers other than to cool off in the water.
We all took photos on our phones, but when Amaya went to post one with all four of us squished into the frame, drinking watermelon juice through straws, I made her promise not to. I didn’t want anyone seeing the repulsive thing on my face, and I really didn’t want anything online that could be used against me. They argued with me, but I was pretty stubborn on this front, so Amaya ended up posting one with just the three of them. As usual, she added #DevilbendDynasty to the caption.
They’d started using the phrase last year, after we found a stack of photo albums in the Meads’ attic—our moms and grandmothers, generations of Devilbend women, in social clubs, at charity functions, sticking together, supporting one another. I knew the girls wanted to include me in the sentiment, but I wasn’t dynasty material—I was just a poor, ugly girl with no future.
My mom picked me up on her way home from work, coming inside to catch up with her sister while I squeezed in every last moment with the girls. I was pretty sure they argued about the laptop, but it came home with us, so my aunt must have won.
The carefree, light feeling I’d had hanging out with the girls was pushed out of my chest with every mile that took me farther away from them. As the manicured lawns and immaculate, tall fences gave way to tightly packed concrete buildings on the fifteen-minute drive home, some of that concrete settled on my shoulders, my reality weighing me down.
“Did you have fun with your cousins?” Mom asked as we parked in the lot behind our building. It was the first thing she’d said since we got in the car, both of us lost in our thoughts.
I sighed. “Yeah.”
“Well, don’t sound so enthusiastic about it.” She chuckled.
I didn’t answer, and she was too tired to prod me any further. My mom had the same blonde hair as my aunt Em, but I got my thick, light brown hair from my dad. I also got his pale blue eyes. If only I had some of his height too. He towered over both my mom and me—but then, most people did.
After dinner and a shower, I went out to the balcony to let my hair air-dry.
The sun was beginning to set, casting everything in a warm yellow-orange hue. Even the shitty side of Devilbend—with the squat apartment buildings, the run-down park, and the shady area near the train station—looked kind of pretty in this light.
But it was an illusion. Under the golden light and summer shadows was hard concrete and graffiti, people struggling to survive, and me. I’d had an amazing day, but it made the evening even more bitter by comparison. Back to reality. Tomorrow I’d have to go to work at the diner—I’d picked up as many shifts as I could during summer. Then on Monday, it was back to school.
I rubbed the side of my nose and sighed, wishing for the millionth time I could scrub the ugly mark off. Wishing I could change just one thing about my life.
That was impossible, so I decided to paint the pretty sunset onto my face in the form of a smoky but vibrant eye makeup.