You Will Be Mine (Forever and Ever #7)(5)

“No, I was nominated!” I said over the phone. “I didn’t win yet.”

“What?” my dad yelled back. “She did?” Excitement was in his voice.

“She just told me,” my mom shrieked. “This is so great!”

“Keep it down!” My brother yelled in the background. “I’m trying to watch TV.”

“That’s my girl,” my dad said. “She’s talented just like her father.”

“You mean like me,” Mom said.

“Sure,” he said. “Whatever.”

My mom turned her attention back to me. “We’ll be there, honey. We’re so proud of you. I just want—”

“Let me talk to her.” My dad snatched the phone away. “Hey, kid. Talk about great news!”

I heard my mom smack him on the arm. “I was talking to her first.”

“Shut up and go away,” he said. Then he came back to me. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I hate you, Ryan!” my mom yelled. “Let me talk to my daughter.”

“You’ll get your turn,” he snapped.

“Shut the hell up!” my brother yelled. “I don’t care if Silke won the nobel prize. I’m watching the game.”

I started to feel a headache behind my eyes.

“How did this happen?” my dad asked. “Did you enter it into a contest or something?”

“Well, I—”

“At least put her on speakerphone!” Mom yelled in the background.

“Go away,” my dad hissed.

They started to fight over the phone, screaming at each other.

“I can still hear you!” Slade yelled in the background.

“Give me the phone!” Mom was screaming at the top of her lungs. “I’m her mother!”

“Shit, you’re annoying,” Dad snapped. “Why don’t you just—”

The line went dead.

I sighed then tossed the phone aside, knowing my parents wouldn’t even notice for several minutes. Even though they were annoying, at least they were excited about it. My brother was indifferent, like always.

My phone lit up with a message.

Congrats, sis.

I smiled when I read the message from Slade. That was all he wrote, but it was the nicest thing he ever said to me. Thanks.

***

“Denise wants to go on a double date tonight.” I was painting my nails at the kitchen table with the phone in between my neck and shoulder.

“Okay…what’s that have to do with me?” Arsen asked in a bored voice.

“You know, you’re dumber than I give you credit for.” I blew on my fingernails so they would dry.

He chuckled. “Why don’t we just do something alone tonight?”

“We’re always alone,” I snapped. “I want to go out with my friends and my boyfriend at the same time.”

He sighed. “But I don’t want to.”

“Too bad. Now pick me up.”

“Why do you have to be so bossy?”

“Why do you have to be such a pussy?” I countered.

He chuckled again. “Fine. Whatever. What am I supposed to wear?”

“Wear whatever you want. I’m not your mother.”

“Then I’m wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and my leather jacket.”

“Good.” I finished my other hand then blew warm air on the paint. “You look hot in that.”

His smile was audible in his voice. “Well…I try.”

“Now hurry and pick me up.”

His playful attitude was gone. “Seriously, Silke. I’ve never done this before. Are you sure you want to go through with it?”

I didn’t even bother responding. I just hung up.

***

“Knock on the door!” I glared at him over the threshold.

He was standing near the landing.

“Stop being weird and just be normal.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you stop hanging up on me?”

“I will when you stop being annoying.”

“That’s never going to happen.”

I walked inside my apartment and searched for my jacket.

He followed behind me and shut the door.

I came back to him and adjusted my jacket. I was wearing a short black dress with red flowers imprinted on it. My red jacket accentuated the color.

He looked me up and down. “I like that.”

I ignored his compliment. “Why don’t you ever knock on the door?”

He shrugged. “You know I’m here anyway.”

Sometimes I wanted to slap him. “Did your parents never teach you to ring the doorbell? What did you do when you went trick-or-treating? Just stood there and waited for them to open the door by chance?”

He put his hands in his pockets. “I never went trick-or-treating.”

My eyes fell. “Never?”

He shook his head.

That broke my heart for some inexplicable reason. I assumed he didn’t have a great childhood, but he’d never been trick-or-treating? Was that possible? “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged then avoided eye contact.