His Reverie (Reverie #1)(18)

So what is it with me and this girl? Why do I want to impress her so bad? Not that I can. Besides, she doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know what I’ve done.

And that’s for the best I guess. I should throw up my usual walls and not let her in. Take her home right now and ignore her for the rest of the summer.

But I don’t want to.

“How about you? You want to go to college?” I ask, but I already know the answer. She’s a good girl. Good girls want to go to school, get their degrees, find a nice guy to marry and live in a pretty house with a white picket fence and pop out a couple of kids.

Must be nice, to have your future so firmly in sight.

“Oh yes.” She nods eagerly. “I go to a private school right now. All girls. I hate it.” She makes a face. “I definitely want to go to college. Not an all-girls college either though that’s what my parents want.” She rolls her eyes. This girl is freaking adorable. “I’d like to go somewhere on the east coast I think.”

“Why the east coast?” I’ve never been to the east coast. I’ve never even been out of California.

“Well, I was born and grew up in the south—Texas—and we moved to Los Angeles when I was eleven. I figure I’ve never lived on the east coast so why not? I’m looking for something different. A change.” Her gaze meets mine, full of expectation. For what, I’m not sure. “I’m looking for an adventure.”

My entire body goes still. I almost feel like she’s aiming that statement directly at me. “Bored doing the same old thing?”

“Uh huh.” She nods, her gaze dropping for the briefest second to my lips. I wonder what she’s thinking.

I wonder if we’re thinking the same thing.

“You’re being pretty adventurous tonight,” I say as I lean across the table a little bit, toward her. I’m tempted to touch her hand again but I restrain myself. I don’t want to push too hard or be too forward. This girl is nothing like Krista. I could reach over and grab Krista’s boob and she wouldn’t even flinch.

Hell, she’d probably encourage me.

“Don’t you think your parents are looking for you?” I ask.

Reverie waves a hand as if dismissing my words. “They’re too busy celebrating my mom’s birthday to worry about me. They think I’m pouting up in my room remember?”

“Are you sure they won’t check on you?” You’d think they would keep her under lock and key. I know she’s been pretty sheltered.

“My bedroom door is locked.” She shrugs and I study her bared shoulders. The delicate gold necklace she’s wearing with the smooth round locket that rests against her chest. What’s in that locket? A photo of an old boyfriend? I hope to hell not. “Trust me. They won’t come and check on me. Mom’s probably glad I’m not there to ruin anything.”

Those words are said so bitterly I almost want to question her further but I don’t. Let that be her business. “Are you saying you snuck out on purpose? Like hopped out a window or something?” I’m impressed if that’s true. And surprised.

A tiny smile teases the corners of her lips. “Kind of.”

“How?” She might be a good girl but it seems Reverie has a rebellious streak.

That smile grows. “I have my ways.”

So she’s not going to tell me and play the mystery card instead.

And just like that, I want her even more.

10

Dear Diary,

(July 3rd, 11:49 p.m.) I can’t even begin to describe what happened tonight. What started out as completely awful turned into one of the most incredible nights of my life. It’s Mom’s birthday and of course, she’d been on a rampage all day. Demanding everyone treat her like a queen (like she doesn’t get enough of that treatment already) and that it was her SPECIAL DAY. She started screaming at Dad for not paying enough attention to her (which is true—he never pays attention to her anymore, not really).

Evan flat out left. Just flipped her off and walked out of the house, which of course, left her fuming. Me too. I was so jealous. I wanted to be my big brother at that very moment. Bold and defiant and doing whatever I wanted. That’s how it’s always been. Evan gets away with everything and I get away with nothing.

Right before her party, I came down the stairs and she glared at me. Started yelling when she saw what I was wearing. It’s no big deal. I’ve seen plenty of girls wear practically nothing compared to my dress. She didn’t like that it was strapless. I might’ve been pushing my limits but the dress covered me pretty well. Not a hint of cle**age and my legs were covered almost to my knees. I thought I looked nice.

I don’t think Mom liked seeing me look cute. I’m not saying I think I’m beautiful or whatever, but Daddy said when he saw me that I looked pretty and that made her mad. She wanted all eyes on her.

Not me.

She called me a whore and that made me start to cry. She said only whores wore red. Daddy shushed her, grabbed her arms and asked her how much did she have to drink before he turned to glare at me, the message in his eyes all too clear.

I was nothing but trouble. He wanted me gone.

So I left. Locked myself out of my room, hid the little key on top of the door frame and left the house through the back door where no one noticed me. All they cared about was her stupid party anyway so what does it matter, where Rev is?