Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance by Lindsey Iler (read with me .TXT) 📗

tennis.” He traces the racket’s outline, his manner exaggerated like I’ve asked the dumbest question known to man.

“You and my dad are playing tennis today?” I follow Tripp up the walkway. For the first time, I feel like a guest in my own house.

“Remember I said he wanted to talk to me about something?” His eyes narrow, almost convincing me I’m losing my mind.

Tripp DuPont, the king of gaslighting.

“Yeah, sure.” I plaster on my good girl smile and rush by Tripp, not bothering with the doorbell. “This is my house,” I remind him.

Ginger, our house manager, greets us with a bright smile. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.” Her arms wrap around my body. “You doing okay?” she whispers against my ear.

A hand grabs my arm and jerks me away from her. Tripp buries his mouth in my hair. “You shouldn’t hug the help. They need to know boundaries.”

I glare at him, surprised by his ability to shift personalities. Saved by the arrival of my dad, I walk into his arms when he opens them. Old habits die hard, even when I’m mad at him.

A bubbly blonde skips into the room, swooping between my father and me, tugging me into a embrace. I freeze, allowing her to invade my space. She brings me to arm’s length, taking me in.

“Gary, you didn’t tell me how beautiful your daughter is.” She squeals so loud I think the windows will crack. “We’re going to be the best of friends.”

Like hell we are.

“Well, we are the same age, so I’m sure we have plenty in common,” I whisper the insult. Evidently, I’m not quiet enough, judging by the way everyone is gawking at me. Upset that I’ve been dragged here, I break through the small circle the three of them have made around me. “Have fun playing tennis with my father, Tripp. Come find me when you’re done.” I glance at the bleach blonde bimbo. “Nice to meet you, Barbie.” I wave two fingers at her and head up the stairs.

“My name’s Bridgette!” she shrieks.

Of-fucking-course it is.

I fall onto my bed and stare around the room, half-expecting Tripp to come make sure I’m okay after whatever that was. When he doesn’t, I’m not surprised. This is what a future with Tripp DuPont will look like.

I grab my phone and send Palmer a text.

Me: You ever have a moment in your life where you get a glimpse of what your future will look like?

Palmer: Are you okay?

Me: I’m not sure.

Palmer: Want to talk about it?

Me: Honestly, I’m not sure.

Palmer: Where are you?

Me: I’m at my dad’s.

Palmer: Oh shit, babe. I’m sorry. How are you handling it?

Me: I’m not. Tripp said my father wanted me to come up here, but then I find out we’re here for Tripp to play tennis with my dad.

The screen lights up with an incoming video chat. I accept, and Palmer’s face takes up most of the screen.

“Only old men and boys with small dicks play tennis,” she says, then bursts into giggles.

I snort, which makes her laugh even harder.

“What am I doing?” I shake my head, frustrated with myself.

“Remember when I shut down, cut everything off, and had no idea what the hell I was doing, or who I was? I think you’re going through something similar, and it’s okay to go through it. If you ignore it, you’ll always wonder.” Palmer’s sympathetic and understanding nature is hard not to see.

“How’d you know Marek was the one?”

“I’m sexy as fuck, that’s how.” Marek moves Palmer out of the way, grabbing the phone. “How’s my best friend doing?”

“Oh, I’m your best friend now?”

“If Breaker gets Palmer, then I get you. We have to even this shit out somehow. I’m tired of them ganging up on me.”

I hear Palmer squawking in the background. Marek wrestles with her until she gives up trying to take the phone.

“Fine, then I need advice.”

“Well, fuck, I didn’t think the position would start right away, but shit. Give me a rundown of your troubles, sweetheart.” He smiles.

“What if I don’t know who I want to be?” I ask the simplest question, leaving out most of the root of my troubles.

“You don’t have to pick either one of them, you know? Let them play out this gauntlet. Let them get it over with, but at the end of it, you aren’t required to be with either of them. I think you know yourself best, and when you know, you’ll be one hundred percent in. If you do choose one of them, they’ll deserve that, at the very least.”

“How’d you know Palmer was it for you?” I ask him the same question I’d asked Palmer about him.

“You know, some days I’m not sure.” Marek winks, knowing Palmer is right behind him.

“Like hell!” She tackles him and kisses him, and I’m forgotten.

“Okay, guys, I’ll see you later.” I press the red button, hanging up on them. As happy as I am for their love, the last thing I want to do is watch them kissing on my phone.

For an hour, I sit in my room, remembering when I was younger and happier, and things were less complicated. There weren’t so many choices to be made about who I wanted to be. I could be the girl with the red ribbon in her hair. I run my finger over the photo of me sitting on my mom’s lap, my father perched behind us. We look like a happy family. If only photographs exposed the truths.

I roll off the bed and head downstairs. There isn’t a staff member to be seen. I peek my head into the kitchen to see Ginger directing the chef over the stove, letting him know how the steaks need to be cooked to satisfy my dad.

Sneaking around this house used to be my favorite thing to do. When I was young, there were so many places to duck behind, going completely undetected was simple.

Low whisper-yells come down the hallway. Tiptoeing like I’m six, I find a