No Place Like Homecoming Dallen, Maggie (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📖

“But she had to have said something,” I said.

She gave a little huff of amusement. “Your mother has a serious talent for talking a lot and saying nothing.”

I glanced over at my aunt’s profile. I wasn’t about to admit it, but I knew exactly what she meant. My mom had missed her calling as a diplomat. She could fill a room with smiles and chatter, all of which amounted to a whole lot of hot air. Smoke and mirrors, my dad used to say. Your mother is all about smoke and mirrors.

“What was she like when she used to visit you?” I asked.

Aunt Lucy didn’t seem surprised that I knew my mom used to visit. “A lot like you.”

I narrowed my eyes at my aunt. That felt like an insult.

She lifted one hand from the steering wheel to wave it. “She was always looking for bigger and better. Always focused on the wrong thing.”

And there it was. The criticism I’d known was coming.

“Your mother believed that if it glittered, it was gold. If someone smiled, they were happy. If someone looked like they had the perfect life, their life must be perfect.” She gave another huff of bitter amusement. “Don't get me wrong, your mother could be smart. But she chose to be foolish.”

I let her words settle over me as I looked out the window, watching as the houses seemed to grow in size the closer we got to the nice side of town. “I don’t think anyone chooses to be foolish,” I said.

She shrugged as if that was my prerogative.

We pulled up to a house that was gargantuan and garish. Well, that wasn’t fair. It was actually kind of beautiful in an over-the-top sort of way. I mean, the Garners’ house had a turret so, you know...conceited much? Apparently they considered themselves royalty even if no one else did.

But the real monstrosity was the party setup taking place before my eyes.

I winced in the face of all the streamers and balloons. “How old are these kids, anyway?”

“Too old for this nonsense,” my aunt muttered.

I shot her a smile and for half a second I forgot I wasn’t supposed to like her. There were moments, like this one, when her cranky mood made me feel sort of...comfortable. Not at home, necessarily, but I far preferred her gruff honesty to the bright smiles and chipper cheeriness of the nannies and babysitters I’d grown up with.

I liked that she didn’t try to make me feel better about being stranded in hell.

“Look, kid…” It was the way she hesitated that made me freeze.

That knot in my belly was back in full force with those two words of warning. She might as well have said ‘we need to talk.’

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” she continued.

I sank back in my seat as my stomach fell. And there it was. I knew the signs of bad news coming. My body instantly went into crisis mode, which was so not helpful.

I needed to be cool and calm if I was going to convince Flynn he wanted to help me. If I stood a chance of winning him over I couldn’t be all desperate and needy like I had been last night.

Trying too hard was the ultimate buzzkill. It was a surefire way to kill any attraction dead in its tracks.

I knew this but I’d been stupid. Careless.

And then he’d kissed me and I forgot to think at all.

I flexed my fingers, trying to calm the anxiety building in my muscles, adding a dose of toxic venom to my bloodstream. “Can this wait?” My voice was all bratty impatience.

All the better. Maybe I’d annoy her into letting this go.

“No,” she snapped. “I should have talked to you earlier in the week, but after my conversation with your mother this morning…” She trailed off with a sigh as she leaned forward to peer past me. “Mrs. Messner’s van isn’t even here yet. You have time to kill.”

Time I could have been using to flirt with Flynn. I winced at the memory of his face when he’d called me out for flirting with him just to get something.

So maybe I wouldn’t flirt with Flynn, but I could talk to him. Make this right. He needed money, and I needed a ride. Surely we could find some middle ground.

The point was, I didn’t have time to sit here for a motherly lecture from a woman I barely knew.

“Look, I’m just gonna give it to you straight, all right?” she started.

As if I had a choice in the matter.

She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “I know you’re holding out hope that your parents will send for you.”

I tensed as her tone gentled. “It’s not gonna happen, kid. You’re not going back anytime soon.”

Remember what I’d said about liking this woman? I took it back. I took it all back.

I reached for the door like I hadn’t heard a word. My ears were buzzing, my head was spinning. My stomach heaved. But there was no way I’d let her see how much her words got to me.

She didn’t know me. She didn’t know my life.

I had no clue what my mom said to her to bring this on, but it didn’t matter.

“Whatever.” I said. “We’ll see.”

“No.” Her voice was harsh with frustration. “There’s no ‘we’ll see,’ Isla, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

I froze with my hand on the door.

“Look, kid—Isla,” she corrected herself. “Your parents love you—”

“Stop.” I turned back to glare at her. “Just stop. Do you know how many people have told me that? Do you have any idea how pathetic I feel when people like you feel the need to tell me that?”

Her eyes widened in alarm.

Probably because my voice got all weird and wobbly. Stupid voice.

Freakin’ anxiety.

I swallowed and flexed my hands again. If only I had access to the little blue pills my mom kept in her nightstand. They were the