True Colors (The Masks #1)(2)

I stifled a groan and rose from my bed. I was tempted to turn and straighten the covers, but decided against it. I knew it would make my mother happy, but it would also make me look guilty and I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel that way. I was 18! I could have sex with my boyfriend if I wanted to.

Crossing to my desk, I avoided eye contact and took a seat, not looking at my door until I heard it click shut. With a little huff, I dropped my head into my hands and begged the bedroom floor to open up and swallow me whole.

*****

The thing about my parents is, they’re kind of old. I mean they’re not ancient, but compared to the rest of my friends’ parents, they may as well be dusted off and displayed in a museum. I mean they’ve got five grandchildren already.

You see they were done with their family. Two boys. Two girls. The perfect set. And then my unplanned-self came along. To say I was an unexpected surprise is a major understatement. Mom was like 44 when she found out she was pregnant with me and I think it took her and Dad a long time to deal with it. Toby, the ‘baby’ of the family was nearly fourteen when I came along. So I’ve kind of been raised as an only child. It doesn’t bother me too much, until afternoons like this when all the heat is on me. There are no siblings to throw the attention to, because I’m the only one still at home.

I slumped down the stairs after Mom’s dinner call.

We’d lived in this house since Toby was one. That’s like 30 years. I wasn’t complaining or anything. The Pacific Palisades is the nicest part of L.A., in my opinion. The beach is ten minutes away. That was something vitally important to my whole family. We’ve all grown up in and around the water.

I ran my hand along the hallway wall, the way I always did when I headed to the dining room. It’s like this little tunnel before popping out into an expansive open planned area. It didn’t used to be like that. When Toby moved to San Diego ten years ago, my parents decided to go ahead with the big renovations they’d been saving for. The front half of the house was gutted to make room for shiny new wooden floors, a sparkling state of the art kitchen and a plush sunken-in living area. A little 1970s if you ask me, but Mom had always wanted one and for this particular project she got everything she desired, including my parents “suite.” After years of having kids in their faces all day, my parents finally earned themselves a private wing that we were basically banned from entering.

I do love the alterations. I love the open expanse, the way it leads to a huge sunny deck area. They did good and out of all the siblings, I’ve reaped the majority of the benefits. At least there was one cool thing about being the youngest by miles.

I pulled out my regular chair and took a seat, still not wanting to look my mother in the eye. Her super quiet mode was slightly unnerving. It didn’t help that Dad was away on some golfing weekend. I mean I liked that he was, because I so didn’t want to face a disapproving frown from him too. I’m his “little peanut.” Seth and I look just like him with our dark blonde hair and blue eyes; the other three all took after Mom. In spite of Dad's effort, he couldn't help a touch of favoritism when it came to his eldest and youngest children.

Much to my siblings' angst, my dad has laxed out big time on discipline. I think Toby used up all his will power and now I basically get away with everything. Luckily for him, I’m a good kid. I think he’d be gutted about my behavior with Chase though, even if I knew a smile or two would win him over, earning me some back up.

“She’s eighteen, Suzy,” he’d say to my mom. “Let her be.”

In saying all that, the idea of his peanut getting it on with her boyfriend...may not fly so well. No, it was definitely better that he was not here!

A fresh chicken salad with a side of homemade bread was plopped in front of me. I eyed the brown bread, stuffed full of seeds and various nuts...I had no idea what they were. I know Mom’s heard of plain white bread before, because I’ve mentioned it several times, but she just gives me that look and asks me why I’d want to put pillow stuffing into my system. The curse of being a nutritionist’s daughter, I guess.

I picked at my salad as Mom sat across from me with her freshly squeezed guava juice. The awkwardness was somewhat painful, but I decided not to let it bother me. At least I decided that until I’d stuffed over half my meal into my mouth and couldn’t handle one second more of her dark glare and repeated tutting.

"What?" My fork clattered to the table.

"I didn't say anything." She shrugged.

"You didn’t have to. It's written all over your face.” I threw my arms in the air. “Would you just spit it out, please!"

"Alright fine.” She gently placed her empty glass on the table and crossed her arms. “I don't think teenagers understand what an emotional responsibility sex is."

"Mom, it's just—"

"Don't say it's just sex.” Her eyes were on fire.

I swallowed back my words and slumped into my chair, knowing I’d have to hear this one out.

“There's no such thing as just sex. I hate the way people cheapen it like that. When you're with someone in that way it should be amazing and magical and mind-blowing."

Please don’t say like you and dad. Please! I don’t want that mental image!

Thankfully she let out a sigh and continued in a quiet voice. “I don't see how you can do that unless you're with someone you love. I mean do you love Chase?”