Possess

chance, but the idea of her mom replacing her dad with Hugh Darlington made her physically ill. And the thought of having Alexa as a stepsister made her downright homicidal.
    Her mom shot Bridget a look that said, “You’re being rude,” and Bridget forced a smile. “Hi, Mr. Darlington.”
    “Are you enjoying St. Michael’s this year as much as my Alexa is?”
    Considering that Alexa had screwed half the junior and senior boys since they’d started at St. Michael’s last year, Bridget sincerely doubted it. “Yeah, it’s, um, great.”
    Her mom pursed her lips, obviously displeased with her daughter’s lack of enthusiasm in answering their dinner guest, then turned to Mr. Darlington with a smile. “Could you wait for me in the kitchen?”
    “Actually, Annie, do you mind if I have a look in David’s office now? For the book I mentioned?”
    “Yes, yes, of course, Hugh.”
    He gave her mom a wink and slipped down the stairs to the garage where Bridget’s dad had kept his home office.
    Ugh. The last thing Bridget needed to see today was the two of them flirting. She rolled her eyes and headed down the hall to her bedroom, but she didn’t even make it halfway before her mom came after her.
    “I’m not finished with you.”
    “Of course not,” Bridget muttered. “I couldn’t be that lucky.”
    “What was that?”
    Bridget threw open her bedroom door and flopped down on her bed face-first. She was too tired, mentally and physically, to care about this argument. “What do you want me to say, Mom?”
    Her mom was close behind her. “Where were you today?”
    Bridget pulled a pillow over her head. You don’t want to know, she thought.
    “Answer me, Bridget.”
    Should she tell her mom the truth? After all they’d been through in the past year, would her mom be able to handle it?
    Doubtful.
    Bridget tossed the pillow aside. “I was at Hector’s, working on my history paper.”
    “You told me you finished that paper last night.”
    “I did. He didn’t.”
    “Why don’t you have any girlfriends?” her mom asked. “Why is it always Peter and Hector and that Brad?”
    Bridget snorted. “They’re about as close to girlfriends as I’m gonna get.”
    “That’s not funny.”
    “It wasn’t meant to be.”
    A gentle tapping interrupted them, and Bridget’s bedroom door creaked open far enough for Sammy to stick his head through.
    “Is Bridget in trouble?” he asked. Typical Sammy—go right for the jugular.
    Her mom sighed. “No, Sammy. We’re just having a disagreement.”
    “That was a loud dis-a-gree-ment,” Sammy said, hanging on each syllable.
    “I know, but it’s nothing, Sammy. Go watch your cartoons.”
    Sammy didn’t budge. “Bridget?”
    Bridget winced. It was a sore spot in the family that Sammy always looked to Bridget first. “It’s okay, Sammy.”
    “You’re not mad?”
    “I’m not mad.”
    “You’re not sad?”
    “Not at all,” Bridget lied. She smiled and gave him a wink. “Now go watch your Justice League , okay? I’ll join you in a minute.”
    Sammy grinned, exposing a row of crooked teeth, then slowly withdrew his head. As soon as the latch clicked into place, Bridget heard her mom exhale slowly, then felt the weight on her mattress shift as her mom sat down on the edge of her bed. “Bridget, I was worried.”
    “Would you have been worried if Matt Quinn hadn’t called you?”
    “If you didn’t answer the phone when I called? Yes. I need a bit more responsibility from you, especially now that . . .”
    Her voice trailed off, and Bridget was suddenly sorry that she’d been the cause of more stress in her mom’s life.
    “I’m sorry, Mom.”
    “Sorry isn’t good enough.”
    Bridget sighed. It never was.
    “And sorry or not, you’re grounded.”
    “Fine.” She had figured as much.
    Her mom stood. “You’ll come straight home after school from now on.”
    “For how long?” Two weeks? Three weeks? She could handle it.
    “Forever.”
    Bridget snorted. “Funny.”
    “I’m serious. Until you can prove you’re responsible enough with your time after school, you’ll be spending it here. Starting tomorrow.”
    “That’s not fair!”
    Bridget’s mom glanced over her shoulder as she walked out of the room. “Life isn’t fair, Bridget. Get used to it.”

Five
    H ECTOR THREW HIS HALF-EATEN snack bar on the table in disgust. “So you’re grounded again?”
    Bridget rolled her eyes. “Don’t sound so dramatic.”
    “What about the