Chapter 2: What Connor Doesn’t Know…
I returned a couple of minutes later, dropped the bags by the door, and went back into the living room only to find Connor in the same spot I’d left him.
“So,” I started, barely containing my palpable excitement as I stood in front of Connor, blocking his view from the TV, so he could look at me and stop pretending I was not even there, “what are we doing?”
He was still refusing to look at me even as I made it pretty damn hard for him to ignore me. When he did choose to acknowledge me, he glared up at me darkly, like I was a home invader instead of his friend and once girlfriend.
“We,” he grunted, obviously displeased with me for one reason or another (a hint: I did sort of move in with him against his will), “are not doing anything. I’m going to watch the game and then take a nap, and you,” he said, using the TV remote to point at me, as if I didn’t know whom he might’ve meant by that, “are going to stay out of my way.”
Then he lowered the remote, glanced away from me, and scooted over to the left, so he could watch the game he was speaking of, turning up the volume to the max.
Obviously, hangover didn’t look good on him. It made him even crankier than usual.
I rolled my eyes at his childishness before I grabbed the remote out of his hands and turned the TV off, earning myself another mean glare from Connor, but at least he didn’t lung for my throat, so that was a start.
“Don’t be such a grouch,” I told him, finding his behavior slightly annoying since he wasn’t sharing my excitement in the least bit, “there are fates worse than living with me.”
“Are there?” he asked, suspicion coloring his voice as he raised one dark eyebrow at me jokingly, but I chose to ignore the look he was sending me for his sake.
“Besides,” I began, throwing the remote in the air carelessly, “you owe me this much for breaking up with me,” I said convincingly and judging by the pained look on Connor’s face, I guessed I’d hit bull’s eye with this.
“Not this again,” he all but howled in pain and I could see his eyes rolling back in his head, “are you still holding this over me?” he queried, but I didn’t know why he was wasting his breath since he obviously knew my answer hadn’t changed since the last time he asked me. I held the mother of all grudges.
“Of course I am,” I told him just like he knew I would since I’d been singing the same songs for ages now and didn’t plan on changing my tune anytime soon, “do I have to remind you that a week after you broke up with me, you were already going out with that skank Sarah Michelson?”
A skank that spread all sorts of nasty rumors about me, no less… and one that claimed I’d given Connor a STD, which was a vile lie of the worst kind.
“How could I forget,” Connor wondered, his face devoid of any emotion, “since you keep reminding me every single day of my life?”
I detected the challenge in his voice, but I was cool with it. I’d, after all, made a habit out of rubbing this piece of information into his face whenever an opportunity arose…and even when it didn’t. I always struck a chord with him and this was supposed to be a sore subject for me, not him.
I shrugged, not really caring anymore. The past was in the past.
“Then shut up and do what you’re asked,” I said, throwing the remote back at him and he caught it swiftly in the air, his reflexes kicking in. “Where are Marie and Carl?” I asked next, alluding to his parents, whom I honestly adored and considered a family. I think Connor’s mom took our break-up harder than I did.
Connor looked peeved that I even asked, as if I was prying somehow, but replied anyways, “How should I know? Probably still in Barbados, the Bahamas, or whatever the hell they went off to. No one tells me shit these days.”
“Poor baby, are you having attachment issues? Do you miss your mommy?” I asked sarcastically, cocking my dark-haired head to one side. Truth be told, Connor led the kind of life kids our age would kill for – no parental supervision, a platinum card to buy him whatever his heart desired, and a gigantic beach house that was all his half the time. He really had it rough.
Connor hurled a decorative pillow at me in reply instead of deigning me with an answer.
I laughed, shielding my face from his attacks, but the smile dropped off my face as my cell vibrated in my pocket and I saw the caller ID.
I put my phone back in my pocket, trying to play it cool, but Connor knew me well and he could easily tell when something was up.
“Are you still not talking to her?” he asked curiously as I flopped down on the sofa next to him and I knew exactly whom he was talking about, even though he didn’t mention her name.
“Nope,” I said eloquently, not wanting to get into this right now and ruin my good mood.
“You got to talk to her. She’s your sister, Sav,” Connor stated, trying to meet my eyes and convey some sort of silent message through his eyes.
“Yes, but not by choice,” I insisted, cringing at the mention of the girl, whose sole purpose in life was to ruin mine. “If only I could rewrite history…,” my voice trailed off as millions ideas invaded my brain at once and I shook my head to clear it.
“But you can’t,” Connor reminded me, the spoilsport that he was, “so call your damn sister, Savvy. Rachel’s not half that bad,” he assured me, which got my blood boiling until I felt like I was on the verge of imploding, or even better – combusting into flames.
“Whose side are you on again, you traitor?” I asked him accusingly, punching Connor in the upper arm and jumping to my feet. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I rejoiced when he cringed in pain.
“Geez, Savvy,” he whistled, rubbing his arm soothingly, “keep the violence to a minimum, will you?”
“I can’t. You keep saying stupid things that make me want to hurt you,” I admitted to him, making him roll his eyes dramatically, realizing that I’d need a hammer or something of the sort to even scratch him, much less actually hurt him whereas he could snap my neck with bare hands.
“Fine,” Connor conceded, then patted the empty seat next to him, “I won’t say anything if you just sit down and stop throwing stuff at me, okay?”
Mutely, I folded my arms across my chest, weighed my options, and then reluctantly sat down, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut.
“Just so we’re clear, he liked me first, okay?” I blurted out, saying what had been bothering me all this time, the little something that should’ve meant nothing, but still I refused to let it slide.
A look of recognition passed over Connor’s face before he nodded in understanding and realization dawned on him at last. “So you’re still going on about that, huh?” he asked, making sure, as if I hadn’t made myself pretty darn clear how I felt about the situation.
“Sure I am,” I confirmed, not missing a beat, “Ian liked me, then Rachel found out he did, and stole him away from me. Simple as,” I explained to Connor, like I had dozens of times before, but he still seemed to be unable to get it through his head.
“You didn’t even like him, Sav,” Connor pointed out, as if speaking to a lunatic.
“That’s irrelevant,” I insisted, not one to back down, or seeing how this had anything to do with what was going on between me and Rachel. “What if I did?” I speculated, tapping my finger against my chin, for a second there entertaining the idea.
“But you didn’t,” Connor pointed out, the smart-ass. “You thought he was a total bore,” he recited, getting this bored look in his eyes, like he was getting sick of arguing with me over nothing.
“But I might have!” I claimed, shrugging because it was true, you never know. “I might’ve really liked him and she would’ve stolen him anyways! She couldn’t have known that I had no interest in him.”
“No one can get stolen away,” Connor drawled, air-quoting me and rolling his eyes exasperatedly, “if they don’t allow themselves to be stolen away. Maybe he did all the stealing.”
“No, he didn’t. He couldn’t have.” I shook my head because I was sure of it.
“So what now?” he asked back, lifting his shoulders questioningly. “A guy’s not allowed to change his mind? Maybe he just didn’t like you as much as you thought he did.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest and staring straight ahead at the blank TV screen because I was getting really fed up with Connor. “This is not the first time. It just keeps happening and it’s the same shit every single time. A guy likes me and then Rachel decides that she simply has to have him, as if to rub it in my nose that she could if she wanted to. And she always wants to.”
“Hell, I’m even surprised that she didn’t try to seduce you, too!” I exclaimed, huffing as I threw my hands up in the air before I did a double take. “Did she?” I asked, suddenly turning my body around to face him, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end because God help her if she did.
“Savvy,” Connor started calmly, using his velvety voice to soothe me as he craftily avoided my line of questioning, a smart move on his part, “Rachel adores you and worships the ground you walk on. She just wants to be more like you, that’s all,” he explained simply to me, as if it was that easy. Nothing was that easy between two sisters that weren’t even a year apart.
I snorted, finding the notion ridiculous. Preposterous, even. There was no truth to Connor’s words at all. If he knew sweet little Rach as well as he claimed he did, he would’ve spotted the millions cracks in his farfetched theory, too.
“Jesus Christ, Sav, enough with the girl talk! It’s making my head hurt,” Connor suddenly bellowed, like he just realized something, glaring at me hatefully before continuing, “talk to Hannah about this shit, not me,” he said to me, sounding almost threatening.
“Think and say what you want, but I’m not talking to the little brat unless I absolutely have to,” I declared, lifting my chin up at him defiantly, deciding to listen to him and drop the subject for the time being.
“You’re the most stubborn person I ever met. You know that, right?” Connor asked conversationally at which I simply shrugged and said, “I try.”
***
The fact that Connor had an infinity pool overlooking the ocean had always worked in his favor. For obvious reasons. Just the view from his house-slash-mansion alone could make a girl take her clothes off for him in a snap. Not that any of them needed a lot of convincing to begin with. Some of them came to him wearing only their birthday suits anyways.
And that was where he found me, barely clothed myself, a couple of hours later, lounging and working on my tan, enjoying the view from the top while I could.
“Savannah,” I could hear him yelling my name from inside the house before he came through the sliding doors and marched over to where I was laying down, minding my own business and staying out of his way, like he asked me to. What could I have possibly done this time?
Inwardly, I sighed, bracing myself for what was next. By the sound of it, he wasn’t happy and when Connor wasn’t happy, he made it his life mission to make sure I was in the same boat as him. The curse of staying friends with a psychotic ex. For future reference, I meant him, not me. I was fully well-adjusted human being, but I couldn’t say the same about Connor.
He stopped in front of the lounging chair, seemingly out of breath, and didn’t say a word, but what he did do was block my sunlight, so I pouted in response to his dark glare.
“Can you please remove yourself from this general area?” I asked him pleasantly, too pleasantly perhaps as I made a sweeping motion towards him. “You’re blocking my sunlight,” I informed him calmly, but that did nothing to lessen his killer glare.
“Savannah,” he began in an ice cold voice, trying to keep his cool as he took a deep, calming breath and closed his eyes for a second, “would you explain to me why my friends are calling me, asking why I didn’t tell them that I’m throwing a party tonight?” he asked and I could’ve sworn there was steam coming off his ears.
“Okay,” I started, thinking I got this as I carefully sat up and gauged his reaction, “before you get mad, I’m going to tell you beforehand that I already spoke to your mom and she’s totally fine with it,” I assured him, lifting my hands in surrender, but he cut me off before I got a chance to explain.
“You talked to my mom?” Connor all but shrieked and I was surprised he didn’t kneel over and died of heart attack right then and there.
“Yeah, I did,” I replied easily, like it was no big deal, which it wasn’t since Connor’s mom adored the life out of me, “my dad had to call her to make sure she’s cool with me staying over and then she just called me to check in,” I explained to him with my duh voice.
“Sav, how many times do I have to tell you to stop talking to my mom, as if you’re old friends?”
Way too many times for me to remember them all, that’s for sure.
“That’s so messed up. She likes you way too much. She’d never let me throw a party here,” Connor mused to himself as he dropped down on one of the unoccupied lounging chairs.
I shrugged. “What can I say? I have a way with moms.”
“Good for you, Sav,” Connor nodded curtly at me, “just stop using your charms on mine. It’s freaking me out.”
“Fine,” I shrugged nonchalantly, not knowing why he was getting his panties in a twist over something so silly, “I didn’t know it was bothering you that much.”
“Good,” he sighed, appeased that I’d backed off, “and now cancel the stupid party. I go to parties, I don’t host them,” he informed me, even though it sounded more like a warning as he pushed himself off the chair and made a move to leave.
“But why?” I couldn’t help myself but whine, putting my sunglasses atop my head and looking up at him pleadingly, begging him to reconsider his decision at once. “This is the perfect opportunity. Your parents won’t be back for the next couple of days and-“
“No.”
“But-“
“No buts, Savannah. I said no. As in no party,” Connor repeated, as if I hadn’t heard him loud and clear the first three million times. As if. He was such a downer; I hated it when he rained on my parade.
“Come on, Connor,” I said pleadingly, batting my eyelashes at him like a middle school girl ogling upperclassmen, but he refused to give in to my spell, “don’t you want to have some fun?” I wiggled my eyebrows at him, hoping that might get him on board.
“Any chance of me having fun went to hell the second you moved in,” he smirked at me, but his eyes were dancing with mischief, so I knew he was just bluffing. Although I was sure my coming here didn’t make his day.
“Ha-ha, you think you’re so funny, don’t you?” I quirked an eyebrow, thinking that if I had a drink in my hand, I would’ve so flung it at his smug mug.
“Learning from the best,” he replied immediately, then quickly added after he sobered up, “but seriously though, Sav, call the party off,” he warned me, giving me a look that could make a grown man cry and shake in his pants.
“Okay, fine. Your house, your call. If that’s what you want,” I said resignedly, giving him a last chance to take his words back as I held my cell in my hand, awaiting his final decision.
“It is. I don’t want to be cleaning up anybody’s mess tomorrow morning,” he told me in all seriousness, sounding quite determined.
“Okay, I’ll text Hannah and let her know.”
I smiled up at him easily, assuring him I’d take care of things, but I did no such thing.
Sure, I did eventually text Hannah only to let her know to get more alcohol just to be sure, but what Connor didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?
A/N:Thank you for reading and hopefully commenting, my darlings! ;) I passed another exam today, so I decided a celebration was in order and here it is, the latest installement of SIS. :D The next chap will be all about the party, so stay tuned! Okay, I'm knackered, haha, so I'm out! Thank you for stopping by!
P.S: Dedicated to my head cheerleader, Lyssade, whose overall awesomeness never ceases to amaze me! :) Go check her stories out, you won't be sorry!!