Let's Not Ask Why It's Not Right

I cuddled closer into Nick's side, laying my head on his shoulder.

"You okay?" Nick asked, looking away from the TV.

"Sure, why?"

He gave me a skeptical look. "You're only this cuddly when you're sad or drunk, dude, and I know you're sober."

I shrugged and said, "My dad's getting married."

"Shit, when did this happen?"

"He just told me last night." And that was so like my dad. Start seeing some woman, and not even bother to tell me that they were getting serious until he'd asked her to fucking marry him. I'd only met her twice, and I wouldn't even meet her daughter - my soon-to-be stepsister - until the fucking wedding. Seriously, if he's going to shove me into a new life with two new people I barely knew, maybe a bit of a warning might be nice.

"When are they getting married?" Nick asked.

"Next month," I sighed.

"That's soon."

"Yeah, well, it's not like they have to save up the money. His new chick is loaded. They're having this huge wedding with about a billion people, and she can pay for almost all of it by herself." Not that my dad would let her, of course. He adores her, as far as I can tell. I can see why. She's pretty, for a forty-something-year-old, and she's nice enough, as far as I can tell.

Still, this was going to be a huge change. So many things could go wrong: What if I hated my new stepsister? What if she hated me? What if dad's new wife decided she hated me? What if she was a psychotic cougar and ended up raping me? Okay, that probably wouldn't happen, but still.

I sighed, and considered asking Nick's parents if they would let me move in with them.