The Incomparable Edie Wells

“Edie, pass the rocky road, will you?” Riley asks, holding her hand out and brandishing a spoon in the other one.

Aunt Miranda rolls her eyes while Aunt Donelle giggles behind her hand. Okay, Miranda and Donelle aren't really my aunts, but they might as well be. They were Riley's best friends in high school – the ones who were the first to know about Rhett. I don't think they were too pleased when he turned out to be a boy. Miranda told me that she had hoped for a little girl.

Anyway, even after Riley and Rhett's father divorced, the two of them remained on good terms. Donelle lives in New York with her husband – Uncle Hunter, whom I've only met a few times since he doesn't particularly like Henderson on the grounds that it's too hot. I don't blame him. Still, usually Aunt Donelle comes by herself, if to spare her husband a sweltering week in Nevada. They have two boys: J.P. and Teagan – both of whom are toddlers. Donelle assures us that once they're old enough to sleep through a five-hour plane ride, she'll bring them out.

Miranda, on the other hand, currently lives on the military base in Annapolis with Uncle Zach. He's currently over in Iraq for the third – and probably last – time. He's not actually a soldier, I think. He works at the base in Baghdad, coordinating things. I don't pay attention to the stories much. Too much depression in that area of the world. I'm just glad Uncle Zach's not in any danger. He's got three kids – Hannah, Mitch, and Bobby – to look out for.

I shove the carton of rocky road across the granite counter top and Riley swiftly snatches it up. “Thanks,” she mutters through a mouthful of ice cream.

I shrug and glance back into the freezer again before pulling out another carton of mint chocolate chip.

“So, Edie,” Miranda muses, leaning over the side of the kitchen island. She doesn't have much success. Out of all of us in the room – Riley, Donelle, Miranda, Hannah, and I – she's by far the smallest. Even her thirteen-year-old daughter has surpassed her. “How's junior year?”

I blink at her. “It's only been a day,” I feel compelled to point out as both Riley and Donelle suddenly focus their attention on me. Hannah sits on the stool next to me, fiddling with her iPod, so she doesn't look like she cares much.

Miranda shrugs. “A lot can happen in a day.”

Donelle nods in agreement. “Rhett happened in an hour. Right, Riles?”

I giggle softly as Riley's face turns a dark shade of pink. “Thanks, Elle. That's just what I need. Remember that talk we had about not bringing that up in front of my teenage stepdaughter?”

Donelle smirks from behind her bowl, but doesn't say anything more about the subject. “Any boys we should know about? How about that redhead boy you were always with?”

I wrinkle my nose. “You mean Parker? Uh, no. We're just friends.”

Miranda points her spoon at me and narrows her eyes. “Trust me on this, Edie. Ain't no such thing as a boy and a girl being 'just friends'.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Yeah. Well, it's not like that with me and Parker. He's... He's not my type.”

Truthfully, Parker actually is my type. I just can't honestly see myself with him, as his girlfriend... no matter what Maggie or aunt Miranda says. Besides, it's not like Parker would ever bother being interested in someone like me. I'm just his geeky sidekick. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, we're just not compatible.

Donelle snorts and glances at Miranda out of the corner of her eye. “Doesn't that sound familiar?”

Then they all start to giggle like little girls. Usually Riley acts like an adult, don't get me wrong. Trust me, she can be very strict if she wants to. There's something about Miranda and Donelle that brings out the teenage girl she never got to be because of Rhett. I blame him for everything.

Speak of the devil. No, that's mean. Rhett's not the devil, I guess. He's the devil's boss.

“Sup, Edith,” he sneers, smacking me upside the head so hard that I end up face planting into my bowl of ice cream. I wince and slam my palms down onto the table, lifting my head up slowly to give him the best death glare I can manage while covered in ice cream.

He starts laughing hysterically at my expression. “O-oh God, you look so retarded!”

Riley yanks him down by the ear suddenly and drags him out of the room, muttering curse words under her breath. I sigh in frustration and grab a fistful of paper towels to wipe my face off.

Miranda shakes her head sadly and glances back to where Rhett and Riley just left. “Are you sure that boy is Riley's?” she asks for what must be the hundredth time. Then I catch a little bit of Riley yelling at Rhett. “I stand corrected. That is definitely Riley's son.”

I give her a small smile as Riley storms back into the room, thankfully without her son. “Sorry about that, Eds. He's grounded for a week, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Much.”

I don't feel like talking much, so I head into my favorite room of the house – the library. My father is like me. He's a total book fanatic. We're not insanely rich, but whatever money we have to spend is usually spent on books for the library. I spend most of my time in there, if just to get away from Rhett for a while, since he avoids this place like the plague.

When I get in there, I'm surprised to see my father.

He looks up at me from his book and smiles. “Hey, Edie. Come on in.”

I hesitantly cross my arms over my chest and take a seat on a couch across from my dad.

It's not that I don't love my dad, I really do. We're just... we're not that close. Not since he married Riley. When I was little, my dad was the only parents I ever had, and I was content to be without a mom. But when Riley came into the picture, I got to finding that I really liked having a mom. I made the mistake of mentioning this to him once. His eyes turned to agony and he told me tersely that he didn't want to tell me about my birth mom at the moment, even though I hadn't even thought about it.

Of course, I'm always curious about my biological mother. But the only one who knows her is my father, and he won't tell me. Besides, why would I want to know the woman who abandoned me? Still. It would be nice to know where I come from.

People say that I look like a female version of my father. I have his blue eyes, and curly brown hair, and pale, freckled skin. But I have my mother's personality – my dad is far too outgoing and too charming for me to take after him. I'm more of an awkward, gangly, clumsy version.

I glance down at myself in a camisole and sweatpants, where my dad is still in dress pants and and Oxford. Yet another thing we don't have in common.

“How was school?” he asks, placing a bookmark into his novel and turning his full attention to me.

I gulp nervously. “Good. Same as every year.”

He nods curtly. “You like your teachers?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Maggie and Parker? How are they doing?”

“They're fine, Dad.”

“Any homework yet?”

“No, Dad.”

He nods again and offers a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Alright then. I'm just going to get this chapter done. I promise, this weekend we'll do something, Edie. Just like old times.”

I tell him goodnight and tiredly head to my bedroom. It's nice to think that he means it when he says that, but I know for a fact that he doesn't. We have this conversation almost every night, and the end result is always the same. Sometimes I just wish my dad would stop making promises he can't keep.

I sigh and flop down on my bed, staring absentmindedly up at the pale yellow ceiling.

“Uh, Edie?” I head Rhett say nervously, from my doorway.

I sit up and glare at him, propping myself onto my side with my elbow. “What? Isn't it bad enough that you've already embarrassed me once today?”

He sighs and runs his hand through his cropped blonde hair. “Look. I'm...I'm sorry, okay? I thought you'd laugh.”

“Obviously not,” I retort, flopping onto my back and crossing my arms stubbornly over my chest. “Tell Riley that I'm fine. She doesn't need to make you apologize. We're not ten anymore.”

He continues to stare guiltily at the little space on my stomach where my tank top has ridden up, a small frown on his face. Not like that, perverts. When I was eight, and I'd known Rhett for a little over a year, we were playing around in the kitchen. Suddenly he grabbed a fork or a butter knife or something and we started 'sword fighting'. Except, you know, I was an eight-year-old girl and he was an eleven-year-old boy, so it wasn't fair.

He ended up slicing the left side of my torso open, though neither of us really remembers how. Riley's never treated him the same after that. I don't really mind, though – I wasn't seriously hurt, and now I have a cool scar. Besides, I have material against Rhett if I ever need something from him.

“My mom didn't send me. Parker did.”

I stare at him. “Why would Parker send you?”

He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “He says you want to make Smith like you, or something.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Look, li'l sis, I don't care what you do or who you date. But if Smith hurts you, he'll have to deal with me.”

The only thing that would have surprised me more than that statement is if Rhett had suddenly said he was pregnant. And only then by a little bit. “Uh, thanks,” I say awkwardly, slowly picking up my book from the nightstand next to me bed. “I appreciate it?”

He nods and leaves after he says goodnight, sauntering down the hallway to his bedroom. I stare after him in confusion, but decide to just shrug it off. Rhett can be very hot and cold like that. Sometimes he acts like a complete ass, and other times he's all big-brotherly and nice. I just go along with his mood swings; sometimes it's easier than questioning him about it.

Boys are strange.