Pretty Reckless: Chapter 12

You’re tearing confessions from my mouth

Reactions from my flesh

Fights from my fists

Blood from my heart

With your eyes alone

Sometimes I want to break the wall I built between us

Let you in

And watch you destroy me

I count the beauty spots on my thigh.

I study all six of them with my forehead pressed against the steering wheel while I wait for Via to come out. I agreed to drive her to school and drop her off at the counselor’s office, then show her around. I think I mostly said yes out of shock. The reality of Mel bringing her here, and Penn knowing about it and keeping it from me, and Dad and Bailey just accepting this whole circus is starting to nibble at my sanity.

There’s no way Penn had no idea, and there is no way Via just appeared out of thin air, showed up at our house, and decided to stick around.

I picked out a cute navy summer dress with a little red bow on the collar, then paired it with my cutest Jimmy Choo sandals. Dutch braided my hair. Sat at the dining table with everyone. Drank OJ. Ignored the bagels. Ignored Mel. Was ignored by Penn, Via, and Bailey, who talked about a new TV show that premieres tonight. Via didn’t know about it because she didn’t have a TV back in Mississippi. Penn sneaked glances my way, but I pretended not to notice, staring hard at the orange liquid in my glass. The only person I talked to was Dad.

“You look beautiful, Dar.”

I mock-toasted him with my glass of juice.

“You know you’re my favorite, yeah?” He leaned forward, chucking my chin.

I knew what he was doing, and I appreciated it. I even believed him.

“I know.”

Dad is the only reason I’m playing nice. After Melody’s hundredth attempt to talk to me, he came into my room. He explained they didn’t tell me earlier because Via didn’t show signs of wanting to stay with us, and they didn’t want to put more strain on my relationship with Mel. I only half-listened up to the point he confessed that for the past couple of weeks, he and Mel had been fighting over whether they should tell me. It’s the first time he admitted to not being in full agreement with my mother.

“I’ll deal with Mel,” he promised softly. “But for now, Via is here and so is Penn. Make your life easier—get along with them.”

“I hate her.” I meant Mel. But let’s admit it—I also referred to Via.

Dad locked his jaw, his throat bobbing with a swallow. Any other day, he’d tell me off and make a big fuss about how Mel lived and breathed for us.

“Stay strong, baby. We’re Followhills. We literally follow hills. Always on top. Show me what you’re made of.”

“I’m made of the green goo of the Hulk.”

“You’re made of fucking gold, Daria. And soul. So much soul.”

And here I am, staring at my thighs and trying not to cry.

Someone smacks my window, and I roll it down without even checking who it is. Knight, Vaughn, and Luna stare back at me.

“It looked like you were having an intense moment with your pussy.” Knight snaps the shoulder straps of his Louis Vuitton Supreme backpack with his thumbs, popping his gum. “Just wondered if your vagina makes more sense than you do.”

“I wasn’t talking to my vagina.” I narrow my eyes at him, wiping at them in case there’s a mist.

Knight laughs. “I swear to God, Followhill. You’re fun-sized, but that’s the only thing fun about your ass.”

Vaughn parks his elbows on my open window and shoves his entire head inside.

“Word is Penn’s sister’s in town.”

“How do you know?”

“Bailey told Lev, who told Knight, who told…” Vaughn looks skyward and frowns, mockingly doing the math with his fingers. “The entire Northern Hemisphere.”

“Spencer’s exaggerating, as per usual.” Knight hooks his arm over Luna’s shoulder, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I only told the team. And just because she’s Penn’s sister, and I wanted to cement the fact that she lives here, but he is still with his piece of crap stepdad. Get everyone’s story straight.”

“Why are you protecting Penn?” I frown. Knight is about as charitable as a used diaper. He blinks at me, his expression genuine.

“Because no one else does.”

Luna takes a step toward me and slants her head sideways. She doesn’t speak actual words, but this is her way of asking if I’m okay. I roll my eyes.

“I’m fine, Luna. I can handle it.”

“Anyway.” Vaughn spits on the ground, grabbing his helmet and sauntering over to his bike. “Watch your back. Your name’s hot, what with all the Prichard rumors. Don’t let this chick get her hands on the juicy stuff.”

My blood runs cold in my veins all of a sudden. Shit. I haven’t even thought of that. But my black book stays with me. At all times. It’s in my backpack now.

Three minutes later, I start the car and open a text message to Daddy to tell Mel to tell Via to get her ass in the car before I get my first tardy slip for the school year. Call me Petty McPetterson, but after the latest string of treacheries, addressing Melody directly is off the table. Just before I hit send, the passenger door opens and Via slides in. She is wearing one of my favorite outfits. A gray floral print maxi dress from Neiman Marcus. A far cry from the potato sack she wore yesterday.

Awaiting explanation, I eye her, long and thoroughly.

You will not lose your shit, Daria. Especially as her twin brother just deflowered you and hinted at you going steady.

“Oh, this?” She runs a hand over the dress. “Melody told me to pick anything I wanted.”

I’m surprised she can cram so much venom into one sentence. That ought to be some kind of Guinness World Record. I run a hand over my braid.

“Next time, pick something you can pull off. Ready to roll?”

She scans my body, and I instinctively suck my stomach in. She is still much skinnier and taller than me.

“You obviously are.”

I will kill you dead, bitch. You’re going to be as relevant as the Spice Girls in my school.

I kick my car and brain into drive. Via has not changed in the past four years. She is not sweet or shy and timid. She is just pretending to be those things to get in my parents’, sister’s, and her brother’s good graces. Now I have to figure out what her angle is, and how far her real persona is from her fake one. Luckily, I have a lot of experience when it comes to fakeness. My personality is basically one hundred percent recyclable plastic. The only person who can still scrape a bit of authenticity from me is her brother.

“Did you and Penn have a good time catching up?” I signal right with my blinker as we zoom past Tudor mansions and sprawling Spanish villas.

“The best.” She flicks the overhead mirror open, fluffing her hair, and I catch a glimpse of her palm. It’s been cut open, and there’s a line of dry blood.

My gut clenches.

“He is so protective and loving.” She digs inside my old backpack, taking out a makeup kit that looks familiar. Because it is also mine. I bite my inner cheek.

“How sweet,” I say distractedly, wanting to throw up as panic washes over me. I gave him my virginity. Hell, I gave him much more. She is vindictive and mad and hungry for attention and love. She has every reason to want to ruin me.

She can’t know about the Royal Academy letter.

“It’d be good to hang out with him, you know? And with Kannon and Camilo and Adriana. Oh, my God. She’s probably so gorgeous nowadays. Penn always had it hard for her.”

I smile, breathing through my nose. Her taunt is spot-on, but I doubt she knows about her brother and me. Penn is more secretive than the CIA. He’d never volunteer any information about us.

Or would he?

He hid his sister’s arrival from me, so maybe he is hiding more stuff.

“You can always check on her. Your glamorous BFF works at Lenny’s.” I pop my gum. “And could use laying off the foundation and purple eyeshadow.”

Each word feels like a knife gliding on my tongue. Already in troubled water with my mother, neck-deep into my arrangement with Principal Prichard, and drowning while trying to keep my status as queen bee, I can’t afford to open any more fronts. But Via is practically begging for a battle, so it’s my duty to show her the weapon under my cowboy jacket, so to speak.

“Aww, someone sounds jealous.”

“Just personally offended by her lack of style.” I smirk.

“Yeah. You seem easily offended. Like yesterday, when you ran to your room when you saw my face. Some things don’t change, Lovebug.”

She claps the overhead mirror shut and pins me with a glare.

I pull into a parking spot in front of All Saints High and unbuckle the seat belt, twisting my whole body to face her.

“We don’t have to be enemies, Sylvia. I know you’re trying to rock the whole Goody-Two-shoes vibe with my family, but it’s not who you are, and it’s not who you have to be to fit in my family. We had our differences in the past, but we were fourteen and competing for the same spot. That spot is yours now if you want it. I have no interest in ballet anymore. We’re only going to have one senior year. Why not make it our best?”

She leans toward me, a sly smile gracing her lips. I forget to breathe as I wait for her words. Forget that the Scullys were born with smiles that can very well kill or at least drastically wound when they’re aimed directly at you without sunglasses. They’re that beautiful.

“Four years ago, you flaunted all you have in my face while I had nothing. Now, I’m going to take every single thing that belongs to you and make a show everyone in town is going to have fun watching while doing it. I want it all, Daria. Your dedicated mom, sweet sister, loyal dad, and popular friends. If you have a boyfriend, I’ll take him, too. And fuck him better.” She grins. I want to LOL in her face when I think about the one and only guy I’ve slept with. Then I feel like throwing up. Marx. What have I done? This complicates things so much. “Oh, and good luck convincing them that I’m a bitch. My brother and me, we have one thing in common. We play a really good game.” She throws her door open.

With one leg flung over the concrete, she releases her hair clip and drags its sharp teeth along the delicate chiffon dress she is wearing, right around the fabric bunching at her cleavage, ripping my garment in the process to show off more skin. “After all, I spent the past four years being good.”

I escort Via to our counselor, feeling as though I’m on death row. On our way there, we pass Colin Stimatzky in the hallway. He gives Via a once-over, sucking his teeth in appreciation. She is fresh meat. The kind that makes your mouth water. She knocks herself against his arm deliberately, like in a bad teenage flick, then turns around and giggles. When she introduces herself, sparks fly. I can practically feel them biting at my skin. I drop her off at the counselor’s office and dash to my class before the bell rings, refusing to contemplate what it all means.

Daria Followhill is no longer the prettiest girl at school.

Sylvia Scully is.

Consequently, Sylvia Scully is going to pay for that little declaration of war.

I spend the first half of the day obsessing over Via’s words and munching on my fingernails, thinking about this unfortunate turn of events. She’s back, and now her brother is ignoring me. Her brother, whom I gave my virginity to. Her brother, who obviously knew she was coming but still took what did not belong to him. At lunch, I force myself to play nice like Dad asked me, so when I hit her hard—and I will hit both her and Penn like a wrecking ball—no one will see it coming, and no one will blame me.

This time, when I strike, no one will suspect it.

I text Via (Dad programmed her new number in my phone) to ask her where she is. She replies that she’s in the art room, and I put two and two together. She’s with a senior class. At least for now. I meet her at the door.

“I’ll introduce you to the ton. You’ll be all the rage.” I loop my arm in hers, pretending to ignore her parting words to me, in which she promised to strip me of everything I care about.

“The ton?” She huffs, pulling away and putting some space between us.

“Yeah. You know, like, fashionable society. Sorry. I’m kind of big on historical romances.” I play humble. I haven’t voluntarily read a book in a decade. Most of my friends use this term all the time, but I like making her feel dumb.

“No, I’m the one who is sorry.” Her lips twitch in annoyance. “I wasn’t allowed to read anything but the Bible for the past four years. I’ll have to play catch-up.”

Great. Now I feel shitty again for having her go through this. What is it about the Scullys that puts me through the emotional wringer?

We walk toward the cafeteria, and Esme, Blythe, Alisha, and the football team join us, following us from their lockers. I make quick introductions, then we settle at our table, and I shove Blythe out of her usual spot and pat it.

“You can sit with me,” I tell Via.

“That’s some reverse psychology Mean Girls shit right there.” Knight points at me with a piece of carrot and pops it into his mouth.

Via gazes at him from under her lashes, all doe-eyed and ready to charm his pants off. “And you are?”

“Not interested,” he deadpans.

I smile inwardly, bursting with happiness. Knight is loyal to a fault. Vaughn, too. Rumor has it, when she smiled at him in the hallway earlier, he breezed past her, and drawled, “You haven’t earned the right to talk to me yet. Try again in two months.”

It’s just the people inside my own house who are warming up to the foe.

Gus is late, as usual. When he arrives, the first thing I notice is that he halts in place a few feet from the table, his knuckles white from his firm grip on his tray. He blinks at Via, shock and worry lacing his glare.

I sneak a peek at Via. She stares at Gus like she’s come face to face with a ghost.

“Gus Bauer.”

“Sylvia Scully. But everyone calls me Via.”

“Via.” He tastes her name in his mouth. And for a moment, he stares at her as though she is holding half the sky.

He takes a seat, his eyes never wavering from hers. He’s doing a crappy job of playing it cool. My heart sinks farther down to my toes. The easiest way to climb the social ladder at All Saints High is to date a first-string football player. If she dates Gus, my prom queen title can basically rest in peace. I won’t be attending its funeral, though, because Via would be there—collecting my crown.

“Where do you live?” he asks. Not a weird question to ask a new kid, I guess. Only in Via’s case, it seems as if he is accusing her of something. I look around and realize that nobody else notices this exchange. Maybe because everyone is talking about Vaughn’s new mystery girl who enjoys sucking him off in public places.

“El Dorado. I live with the Followhills,” she answers, her tone polite and docile. She has the faintest Southern twang, and I know it’s fake because she didn’t have it when we were in the car. This time, she covers her mouth with her hand when she talks, and I’m guessing it’s because she has a missing tooth. She’s been reinventing herself for the past few hours. The question is—why?

“Huh.” He opens his yogurt and licks the lid, tossing it onto the tray.

“Are you an only child?”

Alarm bells start ringing in my head. This time, Knight and I exchange looks.

Gus knows.

Regardless of Penn’s betrayal, I’d never blow his cover. His whole football career depends on this little lie. And Knight is right—he deserves a break.

Via doesn’t flinch. “I have a twin brother. He lived here the whole time I was in Mississippi with my dad.”

“And where does your brother live now?” Gus tilts his chin down, no longer mesmerized by Via’s good looks. He’s now completely focused on finding out more about Penn.

“My stepdad’s.”

“Hmm.” He frowns, feigning confusion. “Why not together?”

“My stepdad and I don’t get along. He is why I left. But the Followhills are another story. I adore Daria.” She flashes me a smile, rubbing my back, and I think I’m going to be sick. “And I’ve always been Mrs. Followhill’s favorite ballerina,” she stresses, sticking it to me. “I’m hoping to pick up where I left off.”

“So no cheerleading for you?” Esme gazes at Via down her nose. She is the only one at the table who is not completely on board with Via joining us. I wonder if she’ll change her mind once she figures out Via is after my neck, too.

I know what Esme is trying to do. She is trying to make Via come off as a snob. Someone who considers cheer to be beneath her. I want to laugh in her face. The Scullys are too smart to fall for this type of Riverdale nonsense.

Via straightens her spine.

“Oh, I would love to join! I wish I had come in time for tryouts. As it is, Mrs. Followhill says there’s a lot of work ahead of us, so maybe cheer is not in the cards for me. But I know she can push me to the top.”

Yes, I think bitterly. It’s me she is content with leaving at the bottom.

By the time the school day is over, Via is everyone’s new favorite person. People like the fact she is pretty and an athlete but also polite, Southern, and eager to please. The girls give me these looks when I pass them in the hallway as if it’s game over for me. As though no one would be able to look at me anymore without comparing us since we live together. That I will always be on the losing end.

When Via and I get into my car, I take out my phone, and there’s a text message waiting for me from Penn.

Talk.

I try to tuck it back into my bag, but Via catches it and lifts an eyebrow.

“I hope it’s not what I think it is,” she says dryly, taking out her (no, my) makeup bag and reapplying her lipstick.

“And what would that be?” I snap, starting to lose my patience.

“If you think you have a shot with my brother, for as long as I have a breath in me, you’re about to be proven otherwise, Lovebug.”