Envious (14 page)

“They called this morning. Not gonna be back ‘til tomorrow. Business trip. Again. It’s like having my own house.”

“Hence the extreme smell.”

He scratched at his scalp before saying in his deep voice, “Yeah, I was hoping you’d clean up. Your parents may smoke, but they don’t like the smell, go figure.”

“You smoked it, you clean it. Good luck,” I said just before slamming the door shut in his face. He pushed it back open immediately. “What?!” I exclaimed. He always exasperated me.

“You’ve got a guy, don’t you?” he asked, his chiseled face twisted into a sly grin.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then, correction. You
had
one.”

“Get out.”

“Holy shit, Sandy got laid!” he exclaimed.

“You’re wrong,” I said and turned on the vacuum. It died. I whirled around to see him holding the plug.

“Well, something’s different about you. If it’s not sex…what could it be? Feel free to answer. And explain, in great detail.”

“Todd, I don’t want to talk about it. Just go rub dirt on yourself or something.”

“Hmmm, no thanks. You’re parents are coming back tomorrow. Maybe
then
I’ll do that.”

“Why do you have to bother them?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Cuz, as their troubled nephew, it’s my job.”

“If you actually rub dirt on yourself, I’m gonna tell them what you’re really like,” I threatened.

He narrowed his creepy light eyes at me. “No, you won’t. You like being the perfect one. You don’t want any competition.” He smiled as he ran his fingers through his greasy dark hair. “They think I’m in a junior college. Oh, man, that’s so damn funny…” he said, a smirk plastered to his face. The only time he ever laughed or smiled was when he was being sarcastic or putting someone down. He loved to make me feel awkward and annoyed. And in that moment he reveled in fooling my parents. It was like he craved their disapproval. It fueled him.

“I still can’t believe you got into an Ivy League school looking like
that
,” I said, staring him down. The irony was literally killing me.

“Don’t forget, full scholarship. Yep. I’ll be running the world in no time,” he said, turning to leave. Then he came back, and I sighed in frustration. “You know, seeing as one of my majors is psychology, I could help you work through your boy problems. Or use you for my homework.”

“Sounds like fun, but no.” Finally, he left my room and I was free from his insanity.

The next morning, I sat on my freshly cleaned couch and watched TV. Todd sat silently on the other end of the sofa with a stack of books on the floor, looking through each one, writing a paper on something for college. He must have written twenty pages so far, all on notebook paper. He always refused to write directly onto a computer. He hated computers, at least that’s what he always said. Watching him work was like watching a mental patient. He wrote furiously and flipped through the books like they were on fire, scribbling notes.

I heard a car pull up, but Todd did not. He was too absorbed in his writing and research to notice. A key slid into the door’s lock. Todd must have heard that, because he shot out of his seat, spilling his books across the floor. I burst out into laughter at him as he grabbed as much as he could and kicked the rest under the sofa. He ran, actually
ran
out of the room just in time to escape my parents’ entrance into the living room. Todd casually strode back into the room and flopped himself down on the sofa cushion. “Yo,” he said as a greeting to my parents, without even looking at them.

“Sandy, you’re home!” my mother exclaimed as she hugged me.

Todd jumped to his feet and asked, with his arms outstretched, “Where’s
my
hug?” He smirked as a look of disapproval crossed my mom’s face.

“When is the last time you washed?” she asked, smoothing her silky straight, dyed red hair back from her face. My mom hadn’t always been a fashion freak. She used to just be a normal mom, but around the time I entered junior high, she changed. Now, no one would even think we were related. We had nothing in common, except our hatred of Todd.

“Um,
golly gee
,” Todd began sarcastically. “I don’t know. When
was
the last time you gave me a bath?” Thankfully, Todd was being sarcastic. He showered obsessively, taking longer than anyone I knew. He was such a girl.

“Now, don’t start!” my mom yelled, losing her patience with him, as usual. Todd laughed as he walked to his bedroom.

“Mom, when are you getting rid of that
thing
you call a nephew?” I asked, not expecting an actual answer but hoping to get one.

“It’s a favor to my sister. If you had a sister, you’d know what I’m talking about. Now, let’s go bake some pies. Your grandma is coming tomorrow, so we’ll have to make apple.”

1205

Heodred and I stepped into the hall, which was brilliantly lit with candles and torches. In the center of the floor was a large fire, burning brightly, softly crackling as the wood was spent. Tables surrounded the fire and men filled every chair. The King, with the Queen at his side, sat atop his throne as he tore meat from the succulent leg of a young lamb. Wine was everywhere: being poured, being drunk, being spilled. Many of the men were already rose faced and merry. Heodred tightened his grip on my arm as he led me forward through the spectacle.

“King Frestheow! A broad bounty you offer. The food is choicy and the wine is strong. Your house is fine as ever!”

“Heodred, my good man! I see you have a choicy treat yourself, what a fine woman you carry on your arm. I knew not you had a wife.”

“Great King, she is not my wife, nor my lover. She is the love of Eric, your loyal, dying warrior. She has come out of love, hope and courage, never willing to leave him. She rode on the wagon with Eric and the others for a full day.”

The king leaned forward and squinted his eyes at me. “That takes the work of a strong soul to do. Come forward, child.” Heodred released my arm and I cautiously stepped forward. He leaned back in his great chair as he continued to stare at me. “She rivals my daughter in beauty. Tell me, what are you called?”

“My name is Cassandra. Daughter of Aden, my King.” I bowed my head, trying desperately to be freed from his potent stare.

“Daughter of Aden, the man you love has a special place in my heart. He was but a slave when we met. An apprentice. He caught a traitor in his seething heart with an axe. He, before all of my men, noticed this traitor’s attack and tore him down on the spot. I owe him my life, and now the debt is passed to you, so please, eat, drink and forget your sorrows here.”

“Please!” I exclaimed as I fell to my knees in sorrow, tears streaming bitterly down my burning face. “Please, if a debt is to be paid, let it rest with Eric. Let him live. I cannot bear to lose him!” Heodred lifted me from the floor and I sank into his chest. He held me on my feet and spoke to the King.

“Has Eric passed from this world? We do not know his fate and it presses our weary hearts. Great King, do not try to comfort the blow the truth may carry.”

“Heodred, you are experienced in battle. You should know his fate is grim. He lays unconscious last I knew. He barely breathes. And I fear it will not be long before his last breathe is brought.”

“No!!!” I screamed, my voice raw, the shriek echoing from wall to wall. I sank further in Heodred’s great arms and he could not hold me. I sank to the floor, wallowing in great sobs and screams, choking on the tears of my soul. I struggled to breathe through my spectacle, a heaping mess at the feet of the king.

The lady of the land pulled my weak shoulders around and looked into my face. “Come,” she said. “Come, a
nd we shall see him, together.”

CHAPTER 14

LIES FROM DECEIT

I lay on my bed, covers pulled up around me. I was freezing cold, but I didn’t know why. After that dream, I could barely sleep. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to see my deepest fears intertwined with my grief through the torturous nightmares that haunted my slumber. I knew that the vision was of the past, and that Eric was fine in the present. But the thought of his death kept nagging me and persisting to be foremost in my thoughts. I felt I needed proof that he was indeed alive, both now and in the past.

This didn’t mean I had forgiven him. I hadn’t, and I never would. He had deceived me, used me, all for some twisted pleasure. I was certain that if I had given him another chance, he would have taken it right away. And he would have used me again and again. Aurora was his, but not anymore. Even though she loved him, she was sickened to the point of no return by his cheating.

To think that all he told me was just lies. All those sweet things he said, “you’re beautiful, smart,” they were all just a part of the game. A game he played to the fullest. He didn’t want me for anything more than a cheap good time. And I had played into it. I had believed his apologies. I had thought he was sincere. How stupid I had been to eat up his every word. I was such a fool.

“Sandy?” a deep voice called to me softly. I rolled over and noticed Todd lying on the floor beside my bed. God, he was so odd. “Can I ask you something?”

I sat up and stared down at him, expecting a fight. “What, Todd?”

He stared vacantly at the ceiling, while running his fingers lightly over the faint white scars that cut across the inside of his left arm. “Do you hate me?” he asked.

I turned my face away from him.
Was he making a joke? When did he come in?
“Mostly,” I answered. He was in one of his moods. His sarcasm usually meant he was happy. I didn’t know what changed since yesterday, but I didn’t like him either way.

“Why?” he said.

“‘
Why?’
Do you even have to ask?”

He sat up quickly with
a sudden burst of anger, his gray eyes burning into me from behind his dark hair as he spat, “Apparently ‘yes’ if I asked, which I did, because, if I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask. But by your response I would have to determine that the answer is so blatantly obvious that I, myself, should have known automatically, which leads me to determine that you believe I, myself, am the problem entirely, or that you think so highly of me that I must be smart enough to know myself and you so completely that I would know the inner workings of our minds and how they work together, in a room with one another.” He paused for a millisecond to breathe, then continued on, oozing with angry sarcasm, “So, I guess I should thank you, for believing in me so much. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a turkey to baste.” And with that he left the room, slamming my door shut.

“What the hell was that?!” I yelled after him.

Todd popped his head back into my room and said, “Shh. Grandma’s here, so watch your mouth, bitch.”

“Get out!” I screamed.

I got up and slammed the door shut, even though he was already gone. He was so aggravating. Why did I say “mostly?” I hated him
fully
.

I quickly dressed and tried to let my anger go before heading down the steps and walking out into the kitchen. The lovely scent of turkey wafted through the air and I breathed it in, enjoying every last second before I couldn’t smell it anymore.

“It’s not sex, it’s just turkey,” Todd said from the stove, annoyance still ruling his voice. “Not like you would know the difference.” He squatted down at the oven, baster in hand, squirting the turkey’s drippings over the oversized bird.

“What’s your problem, jerk?” I glared at him and he glared back, his gray eyes set hard like steel.

He looked away first, not willing to play the game and shook his head. “You’re such a bitch,” he muttered.

“Wanna say that to my face?!” I was pumped for a fight. That way, he would get mad or in trouble and sulk in his room for the rest of my visit, just like always.

Todd closed the oven door. “You know, Sandy, I’m really sick of dealing with your shit. Every time I try, you throw it back in my face. You and your freaking problems.”

“
I
have problems? Excuse me, but
I
didn’t get arrested and spend time in youth prison.
I
didn’t get kicked out of my house because I was a demented, drugged-up bastard.”

Todd threw the turkey baster to the counter. It ricocheted off the wall and clattered as it hit the floor. His hands shook as he struggled to regain his calm. “Damn it, Sandy!” he yelled. “Do you think I don’t remember? I don’t need you to remind me all the fucking time.”

“I am sick of having to deal with you,” I told him.

“Sandy, when are you going to grow up? You’re eighteen years old.”

I crossed my arms in defiance. “And you’re going to be twenty-three. When are you going to grow up and move out?”

A look of sadness crossed his face as I gloated. Todd bent down, picked up what he threw, and placed it in the sink as he walked away. I heard his bedroom door click shut and I smiled, proud of what I had done. When he threw the baster, I thought I had won. Usually, that would be when he would storm away. He had held out this time, but I had still gotten what I wanted, in the end.