Backlash

“This is all your fault, Bree. I hate you!”

I guess “supposed to” doesn’t matter when our family is falling to pieces, and I’m the one to blame for pushing us all off the cliff.

“Liam, we’re dealing with more than enough haters outside of these walls,” Dad says, his voice quiet but firm. “We don’t need them on the inside.”

“Too bad you didn’t tell her that,” Liam spits out, gesturing to me angrily with his thumb. “Or Mom. Before they started hating on Lara. Before they made her try to kill herself.”

I wrap my arms around my waist, as if they can offer a shield from his angry words. But nothing does. My brother’s disgust with me is like nuclear radiation; it seeps through all my feeble defenses.

“People make mistakes,” Dad says, sighing heavily. “You can’t hate your sister forever because she made one bad decision.”

“Try me,” Liam argues, his eyes cold and narrowed. “Not all mistakes end up with death threats and people leaving dog crap in our mailbox.”

“Okay, so I made the Biggest Mistake in the History of the Universe,” I say, feeling like I’m going to cry for the zillionth time since I heard those messages on my cell phone. “I’m sorry, all right?”

“Are you, Bree? Really?” Liam asks. “You didn’t seem that sorry when Lara tried to kill herself. It’s like you’re just sorry ’cause you got caught.”

Maybe it’s because he hurt me so badly when he said that. Maybe it’s because he fired an arrow, and it hit a bull’s-eye in a truly dark place. Maybe it’s because, deep down, I know in some small way he’s right. Maybe it’s because it hurts so much that my brother seems to hate me, and that just makes me want to hurt him back.

“Well, what are you doing hanging around with Sydney Kelley?” I ask. “I saw you two coming down from the tree fort together last night. How sick is that when Mom had to call the cops on her dad, and her parents want to put Mom and me in jail?”

I know this came as a total shock to Dad based on his expression as he turns to my brother and asks, “Is this true, Liam? Have you been hanging out with Sydney? Do you realize how inappropriate that is?”

If I thought Liam was mad before, that was just the warm-up. Dad’s question is the spark that ignites the serious fireworks.

“I’m the one making things inappropriate? Because I’m hanging out with Sydney?” he shouts at Dad, and it’s gross because he’s literally spitting with rage. “I didn’t ask to be part of this freak show. But I had no choice. I am stuck smack in the middle of it.”

“It’s not easy for anyone right now —” Dad says, but Liam’s not in the mood for excuses.

“You know what they call me at school? Son of Monster Mom. Bullying Bree’s Brother. I hate every … single … minute. If I had enough money …”

He gives a bitter laugh, which ends up sounding like a sob. “Forget that — if I had the courage, I’d run away and change my name so no one would know I was related to you.”

He says the last part looking straight at me, with such disgust and loathing that I can’t believe he’s the little brother I’ve grown up with and lived with my whole life.

I can’t face him anymore. I can’t face the world anymore. It’s bad enough that everyone at school hates me. It’s bad enough that all these people who don’t even know me hate me.

I run to my room and throw myself on the bed, crying, wondering if this is all I can look forward to in the future — if I’ll always be hated because I’m Bullying Bree, the Monster Spawn of Monster Mom, pariah of Lake Hills.

“Didn’t you ever stop, for just one minute, to think about the consequences of what you were doing?” Dad had asked me last night when he came to kiss me good night and found me crying.

“I d-don’t k-know,” I sniffed.

“It’s a simple yes or no question, Brea

What Dad doesn’t get is that nothing is “simple” anymore. Especially not that.

“Did you ask Mom that?” I asked him. “Because she did it, too.”

I’ve been thinking about that a lot.

What would have happened if Mom had acted differently when she caught me pretending to be Christian?

What if she had punished me instead of joining in?

What if she hadn’t just grounded me, but she’d called Mrs. Kelley and told her what was going on and made sure they broke things to Lara gently because of her history?

Would Lara have tried to kill herself?

Would we be getting death threats?

Would Liam hate me?

Would I hate myself?

But here’s the question I ask myself most of all, especially at night when I stare up at the ceiling, trying to get to sleep: Should I have been the one to take all those pills instead of Lara?

MOM WON reelection to the city council by a “comfortable margin” despite Dad’s televised pajama rant. Her opponent tried to bring up her parenting skills in a debate and was booed down by the audience. Over a celebratory di

After di

To my amazement, she actually puts her hands around her face like she’s making a picture frame and laughs.

“It’s just never-ending fun and giggles,” she says in a comically bright voice.

But then she puts her hands down and shrugs, the smile fading from her eyes. “Whatever … it’s Mom. She deals with life her way. I have to learn how to deal with it in mine.”

“But … what if her way makes your way … I mean, what if she makes you crazy?”

“I have to try to talk to her about it. Like I’m doing about this Lara Laws thing. I get that passing a law is her way of trying to help. But we’re trying to get her to understand that naming it after me is going to stop me from moving on.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” I ask.

“Linda,” Lara says. “She’s not as bad I as thought she was in the begi

“Wow. That’ll make Mom happy,” I say. Mom has made no secret of how difficult it was making it for her to campaign when she had to babysit Lara all day. She’d started dragging Lara around with her when she went door-to-door. “But what about you?”

“I don’t know,” Lara replies. “Part of me is relieved I won’t be stuck at home with Mom watching my every move anymore.”

“At least you can pee and shower with the door closed now,” I remind her. She’d been allowed that privilege back the previous week.

“Oh yeah! And I won’t miss having to go door-to-door canvassing with Mom,” Lara says. “Although, I have to admit, it made me see a different side of her.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I guess to me it always seemed like this political stuff was all about her, because of the way it affects our lives,” Lara says.

“What, like having to pretend we’re the Perfect Family of Perfect Town all the time?” I say with a heavy dose of snark.

“Yeah, that,” Lara says. “But when I was campaigning with her, I heard people thanking her for the things she’d done to help them and their families. I realized she really does want to try to make people’s lives better. I mean, it doesn’t make it any less a