Knife's Edge

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

"I don't get what your issue is, Jade," Bailey grumbles as we make the silent trek home. Well – more accurately – as I make the silent trek home with Bailey sulking behind me.

After Lucas left me alone in the kitchen, I had stood for a while contemplating our whole conversation. Then, I remembered why I was there in the first place, and my anger soon returned.

I had planned my scolding for Bailey down to the very last syllable. I had rehearsed it in my head, over and over, until my brain turned to mush and all but leaked from my ears.

The words, 'stupid,' 'selfish,' and 'shitbag,' had cropped up a lot – and I was more than prepared to speak them the moment my sister arrived. Only, when Bailey finally had walked through the door (with Alex barely a step behind her), the words had all dissolved on my tongue.

It wasn't my anger that had deflated. Believe me, I am still fuming.

It was me. I had deflated.

One look at the defiant expression on Bailey's face was all it took to defeat me... because I knew it was all futile. My whole speech, every single word of it, was useless.

She wasn't going to listen. She never listens. So, what was the point?

There wasn't one, so I chose not to say anything. Instead, I walked out without even a second glance in her direction.

It left her no option but to follow, moping after me like some sad, stray dog being led on its final walk over the rainbow bridge. As if I'm somehow the bad guy in this, even though she's the violent canine taking chunks from my arm each day.

Well, Fido, it's time to reap what you sow.

We didn't say goodbye to any of the brothers as we'd left, carefully navigating our way around a stack of gaming consoles on our way to the front door. I don't know if they noticed the storm brewing in their kitchen; I don't really care if they did.

I haven't said anything to Bailey since we left and, honestly, I think my silence is bothering her more than words ever could.

"It's the perfect plan!" Bailey insists when I say nothing, my lips sewn together like sutures. "We tell Stella and George that I've landed myself a job at the café so you can keep an eye on me."

I don't need to turn to know the face she pulls as she speaks those five words.

"But, instead," she continues, "I'll get to hang out with Alex. This way, there will always be an excuse to tell Kraken-Karen or Nitwit-Noah, if they ever show up at the house when I'm not there. It's not like they'll ever go to the café to check."

Clearly, Bailey has put some thought into this plan. It's a shame she never puts this much thought into anything actually worthwhile.

"And," she adds, taking full advantage of my silence, "on the off-chance that they do go there – maybe after they've been told that's where I am – you could just tell them that I've finished early and am headed home. It's a flawless plan, as long as I only hang out with Alex on days you're at work. It's perfect–"

But it doesn't sound perfect to me. It sounds complicated, messy, and completely absurd. And, finally, I snap.

"Bailey. Enough," I interrupt. Spinning around in the middle of the street, I turn to face her.

A spooked rat scuttles out from a nearby, overturned wheelie bin as my voice whips out. The words reverberate along the street, sounding like an angry A Capella group.