Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

I manage to steer clear of Stella until dinner on Tuesday before the
race. Since she finally decides to dine with the rest of us and I’m
focused on properly fueling my body for the week, I guess there’s
no way to avoid sharing the meal with her.
“Evening, Daddy.” She plants a big kiss on his cheek. “Valerie.”
She nods to Mom. Then sits down, not acknowledging me.
Damian glances at each of us over a spoonful of bean soup.
“No greeting for your sister?” he asks before finishing his bite.
“Good evening, Phoebe.” She smiles falsely. “I’m not sure I can
eat a bite—I had a big latte for lunch.”
That’s it. Pushing back from the table, I knock my chair over as I
lunge across the table. “You little—”
“Phoebe!” Mom shouts, jumping up and clearly prepared to
stop me.
I freeze, my knee poised over the table, ready to launch into
Stella’s smirking lap. Knowing they’ll never let me actually get away
with throttling her at the dinner table I lower back into my seat.
“What is this about?” Mom asks once I’ve calmed down.
“Why don’t you ask the ice queen over there?” I snap.
Stella schools her features into a look of pure innocence. “I’m
sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Listen, girls,” Mom begins. “Whatever’s bothering you, it will be
better if you talk it out. We will all be living in the same house for
the next year, and—”
“Nine months.” I think it’s important to be clear when it comes
to details.
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