URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 53: Bad Girls Cut A B!tch

Mac

The click of the door wakes me, and I crack an eye to see Kat's head peeking in. Her shiny dark hair flows down the door frame.

"Hey," I croak.

"Hey." Kat eases in the door. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Adam wanted me to check on you."

I slide to sitting. "Is he awake?"

"Oh yeah. For a couple hours. He seems much better. He's carrying furniture...we're having dinner in the backyard."

"Hours?" I grab my phone. It is almost 5pm. Oh god, I slept all day! "Why did you guys let me sleep so long?"

"Adam said to. Anyway, you're awake for the best part." She looks at me critically. "Do you need...some help getting ready? I don't think you are going to want to go grunge for this dinner." Her eyes go soft. "It's so pretty, Mac. Strings of lights between the trees and all the mismatched chairs and fine china and linens and magnolias and the table just goes on forever, because there are so many people. MJ is really going all out for Adam's birthday dinner. Do you have anything white and flowy to wear? That might be good," Kat's voice is dreamy.

I jump off the bed and shake her. Not hard, just for emphasis. "Snap back to reality from your Pinterest fantasies! This is not a country wedding."

Kat grins wickedly. "No, but you could get engaged..."

I step back from her like she's burned me. "Nooooo, he wouldn't dare ask again! Not in front of his family!" Would he? No. I think we are on the same page about that now. Pretty sure the question of marriage is on the back burner until after Babycakes is born. Even in Adam's mind. One life-changing event at a time.

"I guess you are right," Kat says breezily, "Plenty of time for that." She hooks a thumb toward the door. "You want me to get Tamara?"

I roll my eyes. "I look that bad, huh?"

Kat raises her eyebrows with another evil grin. "I figure you don't need fake friends, so I'll tell you the truth. You look like you rolled out the trailer park."

"I see being an Instagram Star has boosted your confidence," I say wryly. "Just showin' my roots, I guess. I didn't grow up in starched sundresses on a hundred and fifty year old family farm. Or in a million dollar Atlanta McMansion. I did live in a trailer. So watch yourself. I cut a bitch once. She was less bitchy than you." I give her the killer face.

Kat purses her lips playfully and leans into my face. "Liar."

"You tell yourself that, so you can sleep easy tonight," I saunter into the bathroom.

I'm totally lying. About the cutting. Not the trailer.

My dad went through a rough time financially after his third divorce. Stepmom #3 got the house, and my dad had to scrounge a place for us, after Leed was already at UGA. We were only there in that trailer park half a year, but it was long enough for me to make friends—and enemies—with the crew there.

Truth was, I was the bitch in danger of being cut, because I blew in with an attitude about being there. Then I accidentally screwed the Queen Bee's loser boyfriend. That girl was a scrapper, too, and unfortunately she resided in the trailer next door to mine. I called Leed at UGA to jokingly say good-bye--told him my ass was grass come the weekend at the trailer park. Friday afternoon when I got home from school, Leed was there at the trailer for the first time--hair grown out, muscles tightened up, newly tatted, cleaning up the yard around the trailer shirtless and sweaty. Raking his long hair around and showing off his six-pack and giving Queen Bee his undeniable come-over-here-girl chin tip.