Free A Midsummer's Nightmare by Kody Keplinger

you’re off the hook and we can go back to counting the days until we’re away from each other.”
    I’d just pushed open the door to the guest room when Nathan asked, “Whitley, are you okay?”
    I looked over my shoulder at him. “Do you care?”
    “Yeah—of course.”
    “Why?”
    Nathan raised an eyebrow at me.
    I shook my head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.” Before he could say anything else, I walked into the guest room and shut the door.
    “Yeah, I’m having a great time,” I lied when Mom called on Wednesday.
    “Are you and your dad spending much time together?” she asked.
    She wasn’t asking for my sake; I knew that. She wanted me to complain. She wanted an open invitation to bitch about him.
    I didn’t want to hear it.
    “Um, yeah,” I said. “He, um, wants to go mini-golfing this weekend.” I forced a laugh. “How lame is that, right?”
    “It sounds nice…. I was worried about you, you know.”
    No you weren’t.
    “Well, things have gotten better,” I maintained. “I overreacted the other night. It’s not so bad, really. We’ve all been hanging out and watching movies. It’s the same as always, just with a few more people in the house. It’s great.”
    “Don’t get used to it, sweetie,” Mom warned. “Things are happy now, but your dad will mess it up. He always does.”
    “Whatever.”
    “I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to be surprised or upset when it happens. It’s bound to go downhill.”
    “Uh-huh.” I took a swig from the Margaritaville Gold while she went on and on, the whole time insisting that telling me this was for my own good.
    She didn’t know what was good for me.
    I wasn’t sure anyone did.

9
    Sylvia came home from work early on Friday afternoon.
    “Are you girls ready to go?” she asked Bailey and me. We were watching
American Pie
on one of the movie channels in the living room. Or, at least, we had been. Bailey had switched off the TV as soon as Sylvia opened the front door. She must not be allowed to watch R-rated movies. Oops.
    “Go where?” I asked.
    “You didn’t tell her, Bailey?”
    Bailey looked sheepish. “I forgot. Sorry.”
    Sylvia shook her head, laughing a little. “It’s okay. Well, Whitley, it looks like you’re in for a fun surprise today. Come on. Let’s go.”
    I had to be a bridesmaid.
    That was the “fun surprise” that Sylvia sprang on metwenty minutes later, when we pulled up in front of the bridal shop in Oak Hill, a city in the next county over from Hamilton. My summer was just full of awesome surprises.
    “Oh, something like this would look great on you,” said Sherri, Sylvia’s just-as-blond, just-as-perky older sister.
    She’d met Sylvia, Bailey, and me at Gwyneth’s Bridal Boutique that afternoon, wearing a bright red blouse and sipping Starbucks coffee. She wasted no time in giving me a hug, telling me I was beautiful, and informing me that I was free to call her Aunt Sherri whenever I wanted.
    I couldn’t tell if she was a total phony or if she was just clueless.
    I already disliked Sherri. Probably because she was so much like Sylvia. But right now she was making matters worse by holding up a sickening baby-blue dress, complete with puffy sleeves and a high neckline, saying how it was just right for me.
    “Yeah,” Sherri agreed with herself. “This would be excellent with your figure. And this shade is definitely a good color for you.”
    I couldn’t help but think of what Harrison would say to this woman if he saw the horrible dress she was showing me. He’d flip his shit. Have an aneurysm. The sight of this thing might have even killed him. I know I wanted to die at that moment.
    “Oh, Sherri, put that away!” Sylvia laughed from the other side of the small parlor. “You know Bailey and I alreadyhave the dress picked out. We just need to get Whitley’s measurements.”
    “Fine.” Sherri sighed. “But Whitley might still want to try on some of these, just for