The Sister Code (D.O.R.K #2) (5 page)

Chapter 7

August 8, 2015

She’s Not All Bad

Today after an embarrassing incident at teatime, Jess took me out shopping for a body pillow. Oddly enough, that was the most fun I’ve had on this entire trip. We talked about a lot of things, and I found out she also shares my love of horses. Sometime next week we’re going to a horse farm together with Dad’s permission. It seems like Dad has finally realized she’s not going to take off with me again.

I’ll admit I hated Jess when I first met her. I was furious about my past and didn’t understand why a person would give up their own daughter. Jess mentioned in passing today that she knew what it felt like not to have a penny to your name. I think she meant that was during the time period when she had Raven and me. But I just keep thinking, she had a rock star’s twins. Couldn’t she have gotten support from him? I guess I don’t know the whole story, but that would have made a hell of a lot of sense…

I haven’t quite figured Jess out yet, but she doesn’t seem to be the monster I thought she was when I first met her. She is thoroughly human, which makes it a lot more difficult to hate her. Shopping with my mother is something I never thought I’d have the chance to do. It was just the way I hoped it would be—bonding over material things and talking about the deeper ones. I think I’m going to keep letting her show me whether or not she’s changed. At the very least, I could visit her when we get back to L.A.

Raven just informed me we’re going clubbing in London tomorrow night.

Hell yes.

I think I might be starting to enjoy this trip.

Ttyl,

Mads

***

The next night, Raven and I head to a karaoke bar to party with some of London’s most promising musicians. As soon as I see the bar, which is lit from the inside out with neon purple, I make a beeline for it, but Raven stops me.

“We can do better than a public bar,” she sniffs. “Let's head for the VIP section.” 

I follow her to a roped-off section at the back of the room and perch atop a buttery soft leather settee. The next thing I know, a statuesque blonde is standing in front of me, staring at me expectantly. I stare back at her in confusion for a moment, but she grins. 

“You must be Madison. Raven and I go way back.” She flips her long glossy hair over her shoulder. “What do you want me to have the bartender make you?”

With a grin to match hers, I order a Cosmo, and after an ice-cold drink is shoved into my hands, I
squeeze the juice from the orange slice into the drink, stirring it with a mini straw before slurping down the sweet nectar of the gods. I really am addicted to this stuff.

After a couple of drinks, Raven joins me on the couch with a hottie I recognize from a record cover tagging along. My throat goes dry as my gaze locks onto Ethan Cavett, a member of the boy band MAN1C. Raven’s wicked grin is unsettling and infuriating all at once.

“Ethan, allow me to present my twin sister, Madison. Madison, this is Ethan Cavett. He’s been trying to get to me for years, but since I’m taken, I thought you might like to get to know him instead.”

“H-hi.” I extend my hand in slow motion and Ethan makes a show of leaning down to kiss it.

“Hello, gorgeous.” His spiky blond head turns back to look at me and a smile spreads from his perfect mouth all the way up to his dancing blue eyes. “Mind if I join you?”

My voice cracks. “Not at all, have a seat.” I clear my throat and shoot Raven a 911 glance. Raven breathes in deep and then exhales, indicating I should take a deep breath and relax.

Ethan settles onto the seat beside me. The blonde woman approaches him immediately.
I don't recognize her from any gossip rag or TV show I've seen, but she's obviously appointed herself as Fairy Godmother to all the underage celebs who want alcohol.

“What can I get you, Ethan?”

“A Scotch, neat, please.”

Ethan turns to me as the woman waves down a waiter. When I look him in the eyes again, I nearly choke on the mouthful of Cosmo I just sipped. I can’t believe I’m sitting next to this person. Ana would be so jealous if she knew what I was doing right now. She doesn’t have a crush on him or anything, but she really likes MAN1C’s music.

“I’ve read your articles,” Ethan begins, pulling me out of my panicked thoughts. “You strike me as an intriguing person.”

I grin. “You have no idea.”

He leans forward to close some of the distance between us. “What was it like finding out you had famous parents all this time?”

“Weird,” I admit, and both of us chuckle. “It’s been insane going from nobody to…
this
overnight. I have to admit, I’m not really used to it yet.”

We talk about my life story over the next few minutes, and without realizing it, I drink at a faster pace than I’m used to out of nerves. I’m way more nervous than when I met Gio. Ethan Cavett has a bit of a reputation with girls. I know where this is going, and I have a feeling I’m going to have to turn him down unless I magically fall in love with him in the space of two hours. One-night stands may be normal for him, but they are barely even in my vocabulary. I’d never even consider going all the way with a guy I just met, even if he
is
worshipped by millions.

When he subtly brushes his hand against my leg, my panic level spikes all the way up to emergency red. The look in his sky blue eyes has gone from shielded to unmistakable. He has plans for me tonight. I’ve never had to turn a guy like him down before. If I piss him off and he retaliates against me publicly, things are going to get ugly fast. In my drunkenness, I can’t think of a single way to tell him I’m a virgin without sounding like a complete loser.

I decide to try to get his attention off me by asking him about his music.

“Are you working on a new album now?”

Ethan’s face lights up with excitement. “Yes, as a matter of fact we are. We’ve written several songs, and I daresay they’re our best yet. Don’t spread that around, though. Things are not set in stone yet. We’re not prepared to make any announcements.”

“What’s it like being in a band?” That question was genuine. I love hearing people talk about the thrill of performing.

“It can be a bit stressful at times, but I love it. I always say, ‘my band mates are my best mates,’ and they truly are. We do everything together. I can’t imagine life without them.”

Warmth floods through my veins as the alcohol starts to dull my anxiety and free my spirit. I chat with Ethan about his previous tours for a while, loving his description of being up on stage—

“It feels like standing on top of the world.”

I don’t even notice at first that his hand has settled on my leg and he’s inching it up my thigh. I pull my leg away, but he leans closer and captures my gaze as he goes in for the kill.

“I could take you backstage sometime if you want,” he offers sweetly. “We could bum around and maybe have some fun to keep up the high after the show’s over.”

“Oh, no. I mean, I appreciate the offer…and you’re r-really hot, believe me…but I c-can’t.”

“Why not? Are you seeing someone?”

“I…uh…”

Raven saves my inebriated self by yanking me off the couch just at that moment. She spins me around to face her, causing the room to whirl around me like a top. I grip her elbows, unable to hold myself up on my own.

“Whoa, Raven…don’t do me like that. What’s…what’s going on?”

“Come, darling. The others want to hear the Grim Weeper’s daughter sing. It’s time for karaoke.”

Karaoke. That sounds like something I should have zero trouble with.

Raven leads me to the mini-stage with the karaoke machine and sets me up with one of the few British pop songs I know, “Headlines (Friendship Never Ends)” by Spice Girls. In my stupor, I can barely make out the words on the screen, but I remember this song by heart because Ana and I used to sing it together constantly when we were about ten years old. It was our friendship song. I used to hear her singing it in her sleep when we’d have sleepovers together. Under normal circumstances, there would be no way in hell I could ever mess this song up.

The only problem is that after all those drinks, the sounds are warping in my head. The words are pouring out of my mouth, but the tune doesn’t sound right, and neither do I. For some reason, I can’t get the notes right no matter how much I strain for them. Dipping and squawking, I continue to embarrass myself until Raven yanks me off the stage, snapping the mic from my hand.

Everything after that is a blur, even when Raven drags me outside to a limo and sends me home by myself.

Chapter 8

August 10, 2015

Humiliation Station Stop Two

I thought my bikini top situation was the number one most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to me in my entire lifetime. I figured I had reached the peak of public humiliation, and it would all be a downhill slope from there. I’ve been relaxing at parties lately because I thought the worst was over, but…

Well, I managed.

I topped the pool incident. Big time.

I went overboard with the drinking at the karaoke bar because I was talking to Ethan Cavett and I got nervous. By the time Raven dragged me to the front to sing, I was completely wasted and had no idea what I was doing. I guess I inherited Dad’s “bad drunk singing” gene. Everything sounded all wrong in my head, and because of that I screwed up a song I’ve been able to sing flawlessly since I was ten.

Some douche canoe recorded me while I was warbling like the canary that ate the cat. Now all of the U.S., U.K., and well, everyone, has heard me singing terribly and they’re slamming down snap judgments right and left just like they did during the summer. Memes are popping up all over the internet with my stupid drunken face and the caption:

“Now we finally know why the Grim Weeper weeps.”

I haven’t left the bathroom since this morning. I don’t know if I’m ever going to come out. Now, in addition to being the Basket Baby, a.k.a. Jacie Redinger’s castoff daughter, I am a disgrace to the Grim Weeper’s legacy. This is absolutely my worst nightmare come to life. I don’t even know if Dalton’s going to want me in the band after this, or anyone else for that matter. I may have just kissed my dream goodbye.

I have to get out of here. I can’t face Grandmum’s disdain or Raven’s lecturing. I can’t look my father in the eye and know how much pain I’ve caused him through this either. I just need to get out of this house, go back to Kentucky, and never look back. Obviously that’s where I belong. I can’t even meet a member of a boy band without screwing up my life, so it’s pretty clear I don’t belong in this celeb lifestyle and never did. I want Ana. I want Maggie, my beloved Chestnut mare.

Next time you hear from me, I’ll probably be at the Lincourts’s house. Mission Back Where I Belong is a go.

Ttyl,

Mads

***

Once everyone finally gives up on getting me out of the bathroom, I wait for them all to fall asleep and then sneak out into my bedroom. For the next half hour, I tiptoe around the room, avoiding making even the slightest noise in fear of waking anyone up. My arms glide in slow motion as I pack my suitcase and gather my carry-on bag and computer case. Then I search the room with my iPhone flashlight to ensure I haven’t missed anything. As soon as I’m satisfied, I creep out of the room and rejoice to find the hallways dark and utterly empty.

My plan is to hail a cab once I’m down a few blocks and head to the airport to take the first flight home. Dad gave me a debit card of my own before we went to New York, and I still have five thousand dollars in my bank account. Luckily, I think that will be just enough to cover the cab, the flight home, and some of my own expenses once I get there. I’ll probably stay with the Lincourts if they let me, and I want to pull my own weight.

Lugging my heavy rolling suitcase down the marble stairs without noise is a feat. I applaud myself in my head as I approach the front double doors. Then every fiber of my being startles when I hear a throat clear behind me.

“Running away, are we?”

I swallow the lump in my throat as I turn around to face Grandmum. She’s huddled in a plush white fleece robe. Her face is drawn and pale without her makeup.

“Um…I can explain…”

Grandmum approaches me with her arms crossed in front of her chest and a withering scowl. “You brought our family name to scorn in front of the entire world, and now you’re dashing away from the scene to save your own skin? You’re just like your mother.”

A chill settles in my bones. Jessica Redinger is one person I do not want to emulate.

“I’m sorry…I really am, but I can’t stay. I’ve embarrassed everyone enough. I just need to go back to the countryside where I belong.”

Grandmum arches a furry white eyebrow. “You’re not going back to California?”

“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I’m going back to hiding in Kentucky. People might find me there, but at least I won’t be in the spotlight anymore.”

Grandmum appears to consider that option. “Ah…I see.”

It stings that she suddenly stopped fighting for me to stay as soon as she found out I’d be out of the spotlight. She doesn’t want me to stay just because I’m her granddaughter. The Redingers only care about one thing: public image. If you’re out of the public eye, they couldn’t care less what you’re doing. It’s all about perception. All about the family name.

A few probing questions and stuttering answers later, Grandmum finally consents to letting me go. She doesn’t make any moves of affection or general courtesy as I leave. In fact, she calls her driver to take me to the airport and whirls around to head up to her bedroom without another word. I thought Nana was harsh before I met this woman. She makes Nana seem like a damn puppy. If Jess grew up with affection and love this sparse, I might truly feel sorry for her.

Speaking of Nana…time to get out of here.

I hand my luggage to the driver and settle into the back seat of the limo. After we’re down the road a ways, I take out my phone to text Dad so he’ll know where I’ve gone. As much as I don’t want him to come after me and drag me back to L.A., I don’t want him to freak out when he wakes up because he has no idea where I am, either. I can imagine the first person he’d accuse would be Jess, and then a huge family feud would ensue.

Me: When you get this, I’ll be on a plane going back to Kentucky. Sorry for running away, but I can’t face these scary bitches for one more minute.

Me: Love you.

Me: Sorry for ruining your life.

A warm tear courses down my cheek. I hit Send and lock my phone. I took Dad away from his life for seventeen years only to constantly screw him over. He probably won’t even follow me. Dad and Cass will go back to L.A., have a new kid, and live their lives out in peace. Either that, or they’ll reunite the band and try to piece together the shards of their shattered dreams. I don’t care what they do as long as I don’t have to be around to witness how much better their lives are without me.

There’s only one person on this planet I have never let down. I need to see her again before I lose my mind.

***

My hand trembles as I lift it to knock on the Lincourts’s front door. The shiny brass knocker pounds against its plate, reminding me of a drum beat.

The pastor pulls the squeaky front door open, looking hungover with sleep. His salt-and-pepper hair is ruffled and his glasses are all askew. He scrunches his eyebrows to study me in the dim lighting, and then he tightens his plaid robe around himself and smiles.

“Madison Daley, as I live and breathe. A certain daughter of mine is going to be delighted to see you.”

I sigh with relief. I worried he might toss me out the moment he saw me because of the mishaps of the summer, but I guess Ana explained to him that it was all an accident.

“Good morning, Pastor Lincourt. I’m sorry to barge in like this, but something happened in London and I really need my best friend right now. Could I stay here, at least for a day?”

“Sure! Come on in.” He steps aside and ushers me in with a hand at my back. Then he grabs my luggage and tugs it inside.

I step over to the staircase that leads to the upstairs bedrooms and gesture to Ana’s room with my thumb. “Can I?”

“Of course. She’ll be pleasantly surprised, I assure you.” Pastor Lincourt flashes me a warm smile and drags my heavy bags over to the side. I thank him quietly and tiptoe up the stairs to Ana’s room, my heart pounding with excitement.

I twist Ana’s doorknob silently and push the door open. I smile at her beautiful sleeping face. She always manages to look like an angel while she’s sleeping, while I more closely resemble a slaughtered possum in the middle of a two-lane highway. I sneak over to the side of the bed closest to the door and kneel beside her, grinning as I shake her awake.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I whisper.

Ana groans and shifts in her sleep. “Mom, it’s not even light yet.”

“I’m not your mom. Don’t ever call me that again.”

Ana’s eyes fly open and promptly water up with tears. “Mads?”

“Hey, girl.”

“Mads!” Ana shrieks and throws her arms around me. “Oh my God, I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too.”

“Are you really here? Am I dreaming?”

“You are not dreaming.” I grunt against her vise grip around my neck. “But you’re really crushing me right now.”

“Sorry.” Ana releases my neck and grips my shoulders. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in London for a month?”

“Yeah, that definitely didn’t work out. Did you see the latest headlines?”

Horror contorts her face. “Yeah…I saw everything. Are you okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, but it’s hopeless. “No. I really need an Ana hug.”

“Here.” Ana scoots over on the bed to give me room to join her. I pull off my Converses and settle into bed beside her. Ana wraps her arms around me and lets me blubber out the whole story—beginning to end—of how much my life has sucked for the past two weeks. She doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t shush me, just hands me tissues from her nightstand and listens like the amazing friend she is. After fifteen minutes of venting, she squeezes me tightly against her and tells me it’s all going to be okay. My phone rings for the tenth time since I touched down in the U.S., but I ignore it again, needing nothing right now more than I need some BFF therapy and to be left alone.

***

After a gorgeous breakfast spread courtesy of Mrs. Lincourt, I head outside with Ana and her siblings to play a makeshift game of baseball. The only team sports I’ve ever played or needed to play were with the Lincourts. There are so many of them they could form their own basketball team, and they often do at home. I’ve never been that great at any organized sport, but they’re gracious and let me stand in the outfield as if I’m actually good for something anyway. I have to admit, my throwing arm isn’t too bad. If only I could aim…

Ana’s little brother Andrew pitches a slow ball to their little sister Abigail, and she swings her stubby arms and misses. I chuckle at the cute scrunched up angry face Abigail makes whenever she misses the ball. She’s only nine, but she thinks she has what it takes to play with the big dogs. Hate to tell her, but I think she’s going to end up joining me in the outfield pretty soon.

She gets one more strike, and then on the next pitch—miracle of miracles—she smacks the ball hard with a ferocious swing and it soars up into the air in my direction. As she darts to first base, I lift my glove to shield my eyes from the sun and another miracle occurs. I actually catch the ball.

I start to celebrate my little victory, but then I notice Abigail’s horrified expression and the tears that are welling up in her eyes. Before it’s too late, I loosen my grip and let the ball fall to the ground. The others cheer her on to run to second base. I “scramble” for the ball and wait just long enough to throw it so that Ana’s brother Aaron can’t tag her out.

As the others cheer for Abigail, Andrew glares at me under his ball cap the way only a thirteen-year-old can. “Mads, can’t you do
anything
right?”

My chest clenches and heat rises up my neck. I wait until the inning is over and then I rip my glove off and stalk to the side.

“I think I’m done,” I mutter loud enough for them to hear.

Ana leaves her position at first base and follows me to the front porch. We sit down side by side on the porch swing. She threads her arm through the crook of my elbow.

“Mads, just ignore Andrew. He’s a jerk. I saw what you did for Abbie. That was really nice of you.”

I turn to examine my best friend’s face and can’t help but mirror her smile. “Thanks. I couldn’t stand making a nine-year-old cry.”

Ana snuggles against me and leans her head against my shoulder. “You’re a good person, Mads, and you do a lot of things right. You play a rockin’ guitar and I know you can sing. You just need to show the rest of the world that drunk singing incident was just a fluke.”

I nod and lay my head on top of hers. “I guess you’re right. I don’t want to be seen by the world right now, though.” Ana just nods and lets the conversation fade.

About two minutes after that exchange, two rental cars pull up in the driveway. My heart falls into my stomach. It’s Dad and Cass…