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the truth for once.”

There’s a knot in my stomach that only grows the longer this conversation continues. Shielding her has been, by far, the most exhausting job I’ve ever had, but it’s been worth it. I don’t know, though. Maybe she’s right. She’s growing up and maybe it’s time I let her handle knowing things.

But then, as soon as this thought comes to me, I’m aware of how badly I wished there had been someone to protect my innocence. Someone who felt I was too young to see the things I’ve seen, experience the things I’ve experienced.

“All I can say is that you’re not crazy,” I admit. “Things are going on that you don’t know about, but I’m handling it.”

Handling it—I use that term very loosely.

That death stare is locked on me again and I feel her growing frustration as it expands throughout the room, like it’s alive.

“Either tell me what the hell is happening, or… at least get better at pretending everything’s okay before I lose my mind,” she snaps, sounding like the lump in her throat is all that’s keeping her from crying.

“Scar, I am doing… the absolute best I can,” I choke out, feeling my own emotions getting the best of me. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away when I bring her into an embrace.

“You’re all I have, and if you’re not okay, I’m not okay,” she admits. The tears have broken free now and I draw her closer.

Something has to give. But seeing as how I can’t snap my fingers and have this whole thing go away, the only factor I have the power to change is myself. So, if that means taking on more to keep things as normal as I can for Scar, then that’s what I’ll do.

She leans away and I push wetness from her cheek with my hand, deciding that my new mission is to do what I can to give my sister more… normalcy. She’s craving that, and if normalcy is the alternative to shredding her world with the truth, then I’ll give her that.

Come hell or high water.

@QweenPandora: Ok, last one for the night.

Let’s spin the wheel-of-doom and see whose fate I’ll seal this time.

Lookie, lookie. I do believe this one will ruffle a few feathers. It seems everyone’s favorite councilman isn’t quite the standup guy he’d have us all believe.

Yup, you guessed it. The man formerly known as Judge Francois—which most of us still call him out of habit—has a hidden side. If these pics of him leaving a hotel outside the city (with a scantily clad woman, no less) are any indication, I’m guessing he’s got some explaining to do.

Boo-hoo, VirginVixen. Here you are, saving yourself for “the one”, while Poppa Francois is slinging dick to anything in a skirt.

Come on, people. You have to see the irony in this, right?

At any rate, this one’s gonna sting a bit. Guess PrettyBoyD had better break out the Kleenex. Or might I suggest a pack of condoms instead?

Pro tip: Sad girls are an easy lay, kid. Take advantage while you can and show VV what she’s been missing!

Later, assholes.

—X

Chapter 13

BLUE

“Everything’s nice and clean, but I still say you should’ve let me get at least some decorations,” Jules huffs, glancing around at the extremely un-festive living room.

I do the same, imagining the place filled with foil balloons and colorful streamers, but that simply wasn’t in my budget. After working the morning shift at the diner, I headed right across the street to the liquor store and cashed my check. Seeing as how I’d given Tommy my last, I had to take from next week’s budget to spring for tonight’s pizza.

What I’m saying is, it was either food or decorations, and I chose food.

“It’s too late. Ricky’s dropping her and Shane off any minute now.”

Jules attempts to fluff a completely lifeless throw pillow while eyeing me. “He sticking around for the party?” she asks.

“Ricky? Nope. We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

Jules’s brow quirks. “Uh oh. What’d he do this time?”

I’m not exactly at liberty to tell her the truth—that a rapey van showed up when he was late getting Scar from school—so I keep it vague.

“We just had a minor falling out,” I explain.

“Well, it’s probably best he doesn’t stay then. Scar doesn’t need any drama tonight. Still can’t believe she’s already fifteen! Pretty soon, you’ll be stocking the kid up on condoms and birth control,” she teases, but I don’t laugh, keeping to myself that Scar’s already tested those waters.

“Hopefully not too soon,” I say back.

Jules has moved on to re-wrapping the cord to the vacuum when she speaks again.

“Heard from Mike?”

The mere mention of his name has me wanting to play in the busiest of traffic.

“Nope, and I’m glad for it. As far as I’m concerned, that place can keep him. He’d just come home to raise hell and make life ten times more miserable.”

“He ever been to a place like that before?” Jules asks.

“He’s never cared enough to bother even trying to get himself cleaned up. Hell, he’s only there now because Uncle Dusty literally dragged his ass down there.”

I know there’s absolutely nothing funny about what I’ve just said, but the memory of Uncle Dusty busting in with a replacement door and tarp was one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life.

“This is a laughing matter to you?” Jules asks with a smile.

“Not at all, but when you’re me, you learn to find humor where you can.”

She pushes the vacuum against the wall near the kitchen and grabs me around my shoulders.

“I know things suck right now, but look at the bright side. Things can only get better from here, right?”

I peer up at her. “Famous last words.”

She doesn’t get the chance to respond because there’s a heavy knock at the door. I slip from beneath her arm and rush to peek out the window.

I count two pairs of crazy-expensive gym shoes standing on my porch, because that’s all

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