“That’s a good idea, Trace,” agreed Diamond. “But then I’ll need some furniture for home. There’s nothing in my room at home, now.”
“Plus, we don’t know when this lockdown’s gonna end,” added Gillian. “What if it extends into next fall? Fall’s the worst time to get sick.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “Guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. God, I won’t be able to stand living at home.”
“Oh, wait! I just realized. Aaron Paul’s gonna be there too. Oooh, girl, you have to throw yourself at him,” Diamond said. “I’m not talking about a relationship, but just to get a little something on the side.”
“For the millionth time, he’s my stepbrother!”
“That’s perfect, no one will suspect!” she whispered. “Shhh.”
I let out a sigh.
Clearly, this boy-crazy room was not getting it.
Phil was related to me now.
Dating family like that would be way too weird for me.
Plus, he spent the whole wedding annoying me on purpose, so he was obviously a rude jerk.
I was not looking forward to having to go be around him.
And not just because he was hot, and I wished I could bang him but I knew I couldn’t.
But also because he was a douche and his mom was a cheater.
Stupid Coronavirus; it had to go and ruin everything.Chapter Three - TracianneNegotiating a ride home from college was a mess. Everyone was trying to scramble to get home all at once. I mean, during a break it was always that way too, but this time seemed even more frantic.
The girl I normally rode with, whose parents lived a few towns away from my own hometown, just refused to drive anyone. She was paranoid about the virus and wanted to be all alone without any people around, which was understandable. Everyone was doing everything they could to stay safe.
Eventually, my dad convinced me to rent a car. There was this new service where I wouldn’t have to return it and they’d send someone over to pick it up. Normally, I’d find that rather lazy, but during the pandemic, it seemed to be a great idea.
Unfortunately, the car they dropped off was a Prius. It was hard to jam all my stuff into their little car, but I managed. I had things toppling over on my head during the drive.
I laughed to myself, thinking that I could probably drive in the carpool lane, since it looked like I had other people jammed inside the car with me.
After a long, traffic filled and miserable ride, where I stopped for fast food and got a little sick from it, I finally arrived ‘home.’ If ‘home’ meant the new house my dad and his new wife had bought while I was supposed to be living elsewhere.
It was cute, with a flagstone path and a “Welcome” sign hung over the front door. But I was tired from my drive and not in the mood to admire their homestead, and my new temporary abode. I was half tempted to leave my junk in the car until the next morning, but God forbid if the car guy showed up early to take it back.
Instead, I grabbed an armful of stuff and made a beeline for the sliding doors in the back, which was an easier entrance because I didn’t have to walk up the stairs that went up to the front door. Along the way, I cut across some grass and stepped on something. My foot slid out from under me and I fell, dumping a box of stuff across the lawn.
Most of the things in the box had been in my desk back at school. It included a bunch of knick-knacks, change, paperclips, and other tiny things. It took about twenty minutes of picking through the grass to find them all!
It turned out I had slipped on a dog toy. What a non-surprise. Phil, my new stepbrother, apparently just let his dog leave his crap everywhere. He really was such a jerk.
After gathering up all my stuff and the rubber bone, I finally managed to get into the house. I was sweating because it was unseasonably warm for March and I was still wearing a jacket.
“Hey, Tracianne,” Daphne, my new stepmother, greeted me, as if we were good friends. “Do you need help unloading your car?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said, trying not to engage with her.
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” she insisted. “I could get Phil to help.”
“No thanks,” I shot back quickly.
“Okay. Your room is right up the stairs and to the left,” she said, in a sniffly tone of voice, as if I’d rejected her offer for a million dollars instead of just her son’s help moving in my stuff.
As if I wanted this woman or her son to touch and look at all my stuff? Definitely not. And I was mad that Phil had beat me here because I wanted to just retire to the bedroom my dad had said I could have when I called him to let him know of the situation, and fall fast asleep without having to deal with anyone.