Read Online Pretty Hate (New Adult Novel) by Ava Ayers - Free Book Online Page B

and we’re left to bear the brunt. It’s not fair.”
    “First of all, Nicolas is not a loser. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, he’s not even from here. His family is--”
    “Rich? That don’t mean he’s not a loser. This guy ain’t gonna save you, Beth. None of them will,” my mother said.
    “My boyfriend is rich,” Merry-Bell said as she stacked her spitballs in a pyramid. “He’ll be here any day. Said so in his letter.”
    “Merry-Bell, James Barber wrote you that letter in 1978,” my mother said and folded her arms on the table. “It’s been thirty-five years.”
    “That don’t mean a thing,” Merry-Bell said and pushed her glasses up her nose. “He said he was coming and he is.”
    My mother shook her head and took a sip of her drink.
    “Merry-Bell, you ain’t never had another boyfriend, never even looked at another man. You sat in this house and wasted your whole life on a guy who went to prison for robbing a bank in Louisiana. He wrote you one letter...one letter in thirty-five years. He’s not coming,” my mother said.
    “Well, somebody’s a fucking dream killer today, ain’t they?” Merry-Bell said and stuck her tongue out.
    “You are a dream killer, you know,” I said and stared at her.
    “I’m a goddamned realist! Besides, what dreams have you even had? Tell me, Beth. It seems that all you ever dreamt about was getting over the guy before, with the next.”
    “Takes one to know one, Mama,” I said and sat up in my chair.
    “What did you say to me?”
    “You’re sitting here acting all superior as if your life is perfect. You automatically assume that Nicolas is going to fuck me over and you haven’t even met him. You’ve not even let me tell you what we’ve shared. You just make your mind up and that’s that. You talk about my longing for a man who will never come, you talk about Merry-Bell and James Barber? Funny thing is, you pine the longest.”
    Merry-Bell looked at me and nodded.
    “Mickey Sexual,” Merry-Bell said and sighed.
    “Don’t you dare mention his name,” my mother said and pointed at Merry-Bell.
    “Oh, that’s right,” I said, “we should save that for Christmas Day so we can watch you get drunk and play the Kiss record as you relive the moments of your one true love. You know what, Nicolas invited me to Bali. I was too embarrassed to tell him I have no money. You know what he assumes, Mother? He assumes I do family stuff on Christmas. You know why? Because that’s what fucking families do!”
    “We do family stuff,” she said and took another drink.
    “You are insane, aren’t you? Family stuff is not sitting at the foot of your mother’s bed watching her puke all over herself as she cries about a man who never loved her! Every year since I can remember, that’s been my Christmas!”
    My mother narrowed her eyes at me as she drank her vodka.
    “Wait,” Merry-Bell said and pulled a box of markers out of her craft bag, “Mickey Sexual was in Kiss?”
    “No, Merry-Bell,” my mother said and looked out the window. “Remember, we went to see him when they played Charleston that one time? Mickey Sexual was in Chili Cheese Dog.”
    “I never heard of no band called Chili Cheese Dog,” she said as she colored her spitballs.
    “Exactly,” I said and pointed at Merry-Bell. “No one has heard of Chili Cheese Dog.”
    “Now, they were popular back in the day. Real popular,” my mother said and nodded. “Make no mistake about that, little girl.”
    “That’s right, Mama. You made the mistake.”
    “Don’t you dare start on me, girl.”
    I looked at my phone and my stomach burned. Nicolas never responded to my text and it had been six days since I had any communication with him at all.
    “Expecting someone?” my mother said and smirked.
    I took a deep breath and leaned forward in my chair and stared at her.
    “Why'd you give me a dead man's last name?” I said.
    “What are you going on about now?” my mother said and shook