Fake It ‘Til You Break It Read online Meagan Brandy

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 111464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
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“Don’t judge me,” she bristles. “Your father was nothing when I met him.”

“Yeah, and neither were you.”

“If you’re not going to help yourself, Demi, I will help you.”

“Goodnight, Mom, or should I say goodbye, I assume you’re leaving again?”

She has the decency to look guilty, but only for a moment before her shoulders square. “I came to drop off my car, I’m riding with the girls to Wine Country. They’re waiting out front now.”

“Then you better go, and my day was good, thanks for asking.” I slam the door in her face and drop my head against it.

“Be smart and let me know when you get there,” she says, then her heels carry her back down the stairs and out the front.

I roll my eyes, put all my schoolwork away, and snag my phone. I make my way into the backyard, put on a freestyle playlist, and drop my phone onto a chair.

I take a few minutes to stretch, then when the song switches, I quickly shift to the center of the grass, facing the large windows.

Ne-Yo and Juicy J’s “She Knows” starts humming in my ears and my body begins to move as it pleases. Without thought or pressure.

Best feeling ever.

I dance through an entire playlist, only pausing when I’m interrupted by a phone call.

I take a quick drink of water, wiping my hands on a towel before picking it up.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Bad time?”

“No, it’s fine. I was just practicing.” I take another deep breath. “What’s up?”

“I got an alert from the bank,” he says with a short pause. “There was an overdraft on your account.”

I tense.

She did not.

I quickly walk into the house, tearing my wallet from my bag by the door.

“Demi.”

I pull back the side pocket and sure enough, my card is gone.

Damn it!

My hand falls and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t have a chance to... check the balance. I’m going out of town for Krista’s birthday tomorrow and...” I ramble off a lie, trying to cover when I wasn’t prepared.

“You’ve been spending more than normal,” he hedges, but I can’t bite.

I have to live with the woman, deal with her more often, which means if I’m lying to someone it unfortunately has to be him.

“I know, there’s just been so much happening around here lately. I can drive into the city next weekend, and work it off?” I offer.

My dad’s law firm is in downtown San Jose, a solid hour or more in traffic from where I am in Santa Cruz. He commuted back and forth for a long time but ended up buying a place closer a couple years ago.

He’s quiet for a moment, and I almost think he’s going to call me out on what he must know is a lie. He sees the statements and where the card is being used.

“No, honey,” he says quietly, the disappointment, maybe a little guilt, too, easily heard. “You don’t have to do that, but thank you for offering. Maybe be a little more conscious of your spending is all, you know, if you can.”

He totally knows it’s her.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Sorry again, Dad.”

“It’s all right. Will you check in with me over the weekend while you’re gone?”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you,” I tell him. “Bye.”

I hang up and drop my head back, sighing at the ceiling before glaring at my wallet.

She said she came home to drop off her car.

Bullshit.

I can’t wait until I’m away at college and she’s forced to reevaluate or fall flat on her ass.

Tossing my wallet back in my bag, I grab a blue Gatorade from the fridge, a blanket off the back of the couch, and go outside to lay on the large lounger. I pull the soft fleece over my legs, slip my hoodie on, and allow the music to play quietly beside me while I stare at the stars.

It’s well past midnight, my mind having only begun to clear of my own family issues, when the hushed argument of another’s floats over the fence.

“I’m not gonna allow this shit from you anymore,” Nico hisses.

Cold words from someone else follows. “And how does a punk kid like you plan to stop it?”

Mr. Sykes?

I haven’t seen him in years.

“I’m not a fuckin’ kid anymore, and I won’t stand here and watch you or your new wife destroy her all over again.”

Oh shit, the rumors are true. He did leave them and remarry.

“You think you could stop me if you tried?” A loud, clearly intoxicated laugh echoes. “Your mom will never let me go. She begs to see my face. When was the last time your ma’s even looked at you?”

“You wouldn’t know.” Nico’s voice is a deep rumble that has the hairs on my neck standing. “You keep her so doped up on pills she doesn’t even know what day it is half the time.”



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