Chapter 34: You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 34

Shit always has to hit the fan on a weekend, meaning I’ll have to endure two full days without seeing Daisy because I had to go home with my sister to spend a little quality time with Mom and Dad.

I’m going to hate every fucking minute of it.

Home is our parents’ townhouse on the Upper East Side. It’s been in the family for generations and the second they moved in a few years ago—they wanted to move practically the moment they inherited the place from a dead relative—my mother went right to work. Hiring the best designers in the city to completely transform it.

Now it’s bright and white with cool blue accents—I can hear my mother saying those exact words right now—and looks like every other place there is out there.

As I stare at the living room right now, I can’t help but think, yet again, that it looks like they live in a museum, not a home. There’s nothing cozy about this place. I’m afraid to sit on some of the furniture, it looks so delicate. Like I might bust the velvet blue chair with the spindly clear plastic legs.

“Darling, that chair was twenty thousand dollars. Please be careful how you sit on it,” Mother says to me as I perch on the chair, obviously uncomfortable.

No wonder I’m scared I’ll break it. Twenty Gs for an ugly ass chair? Damn.

“Want a drink?”

I glance up to find my sister standing at the bar in the corner of the living room, two glasses sitting on the counter, her fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Tito’s. Sixteen and she knows her way around the family bar. Terrifying.

“Please,” I tell Edie, earning a hard look from Mother Dearest.

“It’s so early,” she scolds.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Edie adds ice to each glass and pours the vodka almost to the rim, not adding anything else to it.

I start to sweat, taking the drink from her with a murmured thank you before I take a big sip.

I get the feeling I’m going to need as much alcohol as possible to get through tonight.

We got here Friday evening and I pretty much locked myself away in my bedroom, my thoughts focused on Daisy and nothing else. I still can’t believe we almost got caught by her dad. Worse? I can’t believe he said such awful things to me. Ralph clearly can’t stand me and that guy loves everyone on campus.

What the hell did I do to him to make him dislike me so bad?

Now it’s Saturday afternoon and we’re about to go to some high society dinner that’s going to be boring as shit. I already tried to dip out but Dad said that was a firm no. Edie feigned a headache and they wouldn’t let her bail either, so we sent each other a suspicious glance, unsure of what we’re in for.

Our younger brothers—twins, nightmares, the both of them—are away at a boarding school in Switzerland where they belong. They need all the discipline they can get because if everyone thinks I’m reckless? Wait until they meet those two.

“It’s almost four. Gimme a break,” I mutter into my glass before I take a more fortifying swig. The alcohol burns going down my throat, but it’s a pleasant sensation, coating my empty stomach with warmth. I haven’t eaten much since I got here, too twisted up over what I’m going to do about Daisy. If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to be a drunk ass before we even leave for this dinner.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Mother’s snide tone tells me she doesn’t approve.

I glance down at myself before lifting my gaze to hers. I’m wearing charcoal gray dress pants and a light blue button down that is ironed to a perfect crisp. There isn’t a crease anywhere to be found in this damn shirt and that still doesn’t please her. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You need a tie,” Father says as he strides into the room. Edie already has a glass out and is pouring vodka into it, which he takes from her with a smile, raising his glass in a toast to all of us. “Cheers to the family being together.”

“We’re missing two,” Mother adds with a sniff.

I watch her, noting how her lip curls with disgust. She doesn’t seem happy, but when does she ever? The Lancaster men never seem to pick nurturing women.

Well, I hope to break that mold. If I end up with Daisy, I’m fucking set and so are our future children because she’s the sweetest person I know.

The realization that I can see Daisy as wife material has me sitting a little straighter. Like what the actual fuck? I’m eighteen and thinking of Daisy being the one for me?

Yeah.

Yeah, I am.

“Those boys don’t count. They’re heathens.” My father chuckles, shaking his head, rattling the ice in his glass. “And they’d be pissed if they heard me say that.”

“Hear, hear.” I raise my glass in a toast and drain most of it in one swallow.

“I’m texting them the transcript of this evening word for word,” Edie adds with a faint smile.

Our parents ignore her, but I send her a pointed look. I wouldn’t doubt for a fucking instant that she’s doing exactly that. The girl has a vengeful streak running through her that goes deep. Don’t mess with Edie.

I rarely do.

“You need a tie, Archibald,” Mother says, busting out the full name to get my attention.

I send her a withering glare. “I’ll grab one before we leave.”

“And a jacket,” Father adds as a reminder.

Edie giggles.

“What about her?” I wave a hand at my sister, sounding like I’m twelve and sick of her shit, which has been a constant pattern my entire life.

“What about Edie? She’s dressed impeccably.” Mother sends her an approving smile and Edie grabs the skirt of her simple pale yellow dress and offers a curtsey like Mom is royalty. “You, on the other hand, are far too casual for where we’re going tonight.”

Father starts talking, changing the subject, and I exhale softly, glad for the reprieve. I’m so tired of getting beat up all the time by my mother. The woman acts like she doesn’t approve of anything I do and it gets old.

I check my phone for a text from Daisy, but I’ve got nothing. A few texts from JJ saying how he misses me, accompanied by a photo of him drinking straight out of a Jack Daniels whiskey bottle, Mya pressed against his side with her lips on his cheek. Oh, and there’s what appears to be an endless string of texts from Cadence.

Where are you?

Are you out of town?

God I’m so bored when you’re not around.

I miss you.

Do you miss me?

We should get back together.

We make such a good couple.

Arch, answer me.

Why do you always ignore me?

I’m so sick of your shit, Archie.

I won’t be ignored.

FUCK YOU ARCHIE YOU DON’T DESERVE ME!!

I HATE YOU!!

The most recent text is a picture, her pouty face in the photo, anger filling her gaze while she gives me the finger. Her tits are pushed up so high out of the neckline of her shirt I’m pretty sure I can see a hint of nipple and Jesus, this is the last thing I want to see.

Infuriated, I block her, nearly jumping out of my skin when I hear Edie say something behind me.

“Who are you texting? Or should I say blocking?”

Fucking sneak. She’s always been like that, ever since we were little kids.

“No one.” I send her a look that hopefully says, leave it alone.

“Does her name start with a C?” Edie’s eyebrows shoot up.

Guess my look didn’t translate.

“She won’t stop texting me.” I shove my phone into my pocket.

“She still believes she has a shot with you, Arch,” Edie says, her tone wry. “You need to tell her you’re done.”

“I’ve told her that. Multiple times. She doesn’t listen.”

“Why is she sending you tit photos?”

Nothing is sacred when Edie is around, I’m telling you.

“Because she’s still hot for me.”

“I don’t get why. You treat her like garbage. And it’s really obvious, who you’re into,” Edie says.

“Right? Yet Cadence still doesn’t get it.” I’m already bored with this conversation. I don’t want to talk about Cadence.

Ever again, if I had the choice.

“Exactly. Everyone knows you and Daisy Albright are together. Except our parents.” Edie shakes her head, making a tsking noise. “When are you going to tell them?”

Like I want to tell my parents about my girlfriend. They probably wouldn’t approve of her, yet they’d still force me to invite her over for Sunday dinner so they could silently pick her apart and mentally track all of her faults.

No one could possibly live up to my mother’s expectations. Her question always is: is she good enough for my Arch?

It’s true. I’ve heard those very words come out of her mouth before. And while Daisy is nice and polite and quiet, all qualities my parents would find acceptable, once they found out she comes from nothing and her dad is the groundskeeper at Lancaster Prep? Forget it.

They’d never approve.

“Arch, please go get a jacket and tie on. We’re leaving soon,” Mother says.

“Where are we going anyway?” I rise from the awful expensive chair and start to exit the living room.

“To a dinner, darling. There’s a girl there I want you to meet.”

I stop in my tracks, slowly turning to face my mother, who’s already watching me, a smile curling her thin lips. “What girl?” I ask carefully.

“She’s a lovely thing. From a good family. Graduating this year just like you and smart as can be. You’re a good match.” Mother touches her pearls, her fingers tapping against them lightly. “Her name is Leslie O’Connor.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell and I glance over at Edie, who shrugs.

“She has red hair, Arch. Like that one girl you were seeing. What was her name?” Mother frowns.

“Cadence?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Yes. That girl. God, I could never stand her. So obvious. Always hanging all over you as if she had no control of herself. Not even an ounce of decorum in that one.”

I can’t disagree with her. Cadence is the worst. But I’m not looking for anyone else.

I only care about Daisy.

“Maybe I’m seeing someone else,” I start, but Mother waves a hand, dismissing what I’m saying.

“It’s a high school relationship. We know how those work out.” She rests her clutched hands in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankle, a serene smile on her face. “Leslie is lovely. Sweet. Well-mannered. Cultured. She will become a perfect wife for someone someday. I’m hoping that someone is you.”

It’s funny how the older generation Lancasters are always trying to match their children with someone for future marriage and it never works.

Like ever.

“I’m not looking for a wife,” I say vehemently. “I’m only eighteen.”

Mother’s gaze lifts to mine, her expression smooth. Not bothered by my raised voice in the least. “Oh. Well, you should be looking for someone. Eventually. This girl is well-heeled. You best snag her up before someone else does.”

“You talk about her like she’s a dog.”

The tiniest frown forms on her face. “That’s rude, Archibald, and you know it. You shouldn’t refer to women as dogs.”

I roll my eyes. “And you shouldn’t describe them as if they’re a prize for a man to win either.”

I could really use my father as backup right about now but he left the living room right at the same time I was about to. He was just lucky enough to get away.

“As the first-born son and oldest, I feel it is partially my responsibility to ensure you marry someone who’s from good stock. Someone who isn’t interested in you just for your money.”

All the hairs on my body seem to stand on end at her words—and the meaning behind them. “Are you referring to someone in particular?”

Thick and imposing tension fills the room the longer neither of us says anything. Edie chooses that exact moment to sneak out, leaving Mother and me completely alone.

“I know you’re involved with someone currently,” Mother finally says, clearing her throat. “And I know she doesn’t come from—much.”

I immediately feel defensive of her criticizing Daisy. “You don’t even know her.”

“I don’t need to. I’ve got her all figured out. A sweet, smart girl with no mother and no feminine guidance. Her father is the groundskeeper at the school. We allowed her to attend for practically nothing and this is what I get for our charity.” Mother waves a hand in my direction. “My son screwing around with the help.”

I clench my hands into fists, anger boiling my blood and leaving me hot. “She’s not the help. And we’re not screwing around either.”

“Tell me what it is then, hmm? I have eyes and ears on that campus, my darling. I know what’s going on. Your father and I both know, even about the things you never bring up. Matthews keeps us informed in regards to your behavior. Your guidance counselor keeps us up to date on your grades. Which have slipped, by the way.”

“I know,” I say through clenched teeth, flexing my fingers before I curl them back into fists. I’m tempted to punch a wall but I keep my anger in check.

“I’m sure this young lady—Daisy—is a perfectly nice girl, but she’s not for you, Arch. Don’t lower your standards.” The serene smile is back, that impenetrable mask Mother wears so well. “I look forward to you having an open mind this evening when you meet Leslie. Do you understand?”

My spine stiffens and I glare at her, my mind automatically shutting down at her words. “Understood.”

Fuck this.