Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
The Pretty Ones
The Pretty Ones
PART ONE
CHAPTER 01 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 02 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 03 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 04 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 05 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 06 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 07 | Charlie | October 2008
CHAPTER 08 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 09 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 10 | Charlie | October 2008
CHAPTER 11 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 12 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 13 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 14 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 15 | Charlie | October 2008
CHAPTER 16 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 17 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 18 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 19 | Charlie | August 2012
PART TWO | 2008
CHAPTER 20 | Charlie | January 2008
CHAPTER 21 | Charlie | January 2008
CHAPTER 22 | Jenny | February 2008
CHAPTER 23 | Jenny | February 2008
CHAPTER 24 | Charlie | February 2008
CHAPTER 25 | Charlie | February 2008
CHAPTER 26 | Jenny | February 2008
CHAPTER 27 | Charlie | February 2008
CHAPTER 28 | Jenny | March 2008
CHAPTER 29 | Charlie | March 2008
CHAPTER 30 | Jenny | March 2008
CHAPTER 31 | Jenny | March 2008
CHAPTER 32 | Jenny | March 2008
CHAPTER 33 | Jenny | March 2008
CHAPTER 34 | Jenny | April 2008
CHAPTER 35 | Jenny | May 2008
CHAPTER 36 | Jenny | May 2008
CHAPTER 37 | Charlie | May 2008
CHAPTER 38 | Charlie | May 2008
PART THREE
CHAPTER 39 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 40 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 41 | Charlie | May 2008
CHAPTER 42 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 43 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 44 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 45 | Charlie | May 2012
CHAPTER 46 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 47 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 48 | Charlie | July 2008
CHAPTER 49 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 50 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 51 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 52 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 53 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 54 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 55 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 56 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 57 | Charlie | August 2012
CHAPTER 58 | Charlie | May 2008
CHAPTER 59 | Charlie | August 2012
EPILOGUE | Charlie | One year later
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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For Jeremy, with love
JAMIE LEE FRY
The Pretty Ones
JAMIE LEE FRY
Print edition ISBN: 978-1-7371202-0-9
E-book edition ISBN: 978-1-7371202-1-6
First edition: AUGUST 2021
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
www.authorjamieleefry.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2021 by Jamie Lee Fry. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
PART ONE
CHAPTER 01
Charlie
August 2012
Something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong.
I glance over to an empty bottle of vodka on the seat next to me. Is that mine? My memory is a blur.
My head is foggy and the throbbing in my temples is unbearable. I can’t think. I swear I hear my pulse beating within me like my ears are going to explode.
The hot sun bounces off the car and hits me in the face. I wither back like a vampire.
Something is wrong.
I push the palms of my hands hard against my eyes and rub them in a circular motion, searching for clarity. I remove my hands, and the street ahead of me comes into focus. Tall ponderosa pine trees line both sides of the street. The bluebird sky is full above, and my heart drops to the pit of my tummy. I know exactly where I am.
I should not be here. This is bad.
I don’t remember coming here.
My heart feels like it is going to leap out of my chest. The dry air makes it hard to swallow, but I manage to push down the bile that’s rising in my throat. It burns.
I can’t be here. I have to go. I can’t go down this road again. That was four years ago.
I reach forward to start my car. I have to leave before anyone catches me parked here. People will talk. People always talk. My hand shakes as I turn the key that’s thankfully in the ignition.
Oh, no. No, no, no. Is that Zoey McKinley jogging across the street?
She can’t see me here. I slide down in my seat.
It’s too late. Zoey waves her hand excitedly toward me.
“Charlie, is that you?” Zoey yells.
I glance up into my rearview mirror. A ghostly, unrecognizable face stares back at me. I pat down the mess that is my straggly dishwater-blonde hair and tuck the sides behind my ears. My blue eyes are glazed over and growing redder by the second. I wipe the smeared mascara from under my eyes and pinch my cheeks to give them some color.
I watch Zoey as she rounds my car, careful that she doesn’t notice I’m moving an empty vodka bottle under my passenger seat.
“Charlie,” Zoey shouts. “It is you!”
Zoey is happy to see me. I wish I could say the same.
She is standing next to my car now, motioning for me to roll down my window. She hasn’t changed a bit.
The brisk morning air invades my vehicle as I obey her gesture. I welcome the fresh air, but I’m sorry for whatever scents are flowing out the window toward my old friend.
“Hey, Zoey. It’s been a while. Good to see you,” I say. My voice doesn’t sound genuine and it’s slightly groggy. Normally, I would be happy to reconnect, but Zoey has caught me at a bad time.
Zoey is just as peppy as I remember. She still has a little bounce in her step. I’m glad to see the past four years were good to her, but right now is not the time.
“I haven’t seen you since . . .” She stops mid-sentence; most people do because they forget how to handle it. After all, it’s been over four years.
“I wasn’t sure it was actually you. But your green VW Beetle is a dead giveaway. I have missed this car and I’ve missed you. How have you been, Charlie?” Zoey is genuine with her words and always has been.
“I’ve been good,” I say. I’m lying. Clearly, I look like hell. I’m not fine.
“You never called me back after everything happened. I eventually had to stop trying. I wanted to be there for you, Charlie. You didn’t let me in. I think about you often,�
� Zoey said empathetically.
I frown. I don’t want to talk about that. I change the subject. “Do you live around here now?” I ask Zoey.
“Yah, I’ve got an apartment one street over, near the park,” Zoey responds as she points in the direction of her new home. “So, whatcha doin’ over here?” She rocks back and forth on her heels, keeping her high energy going. Her auburn ponytail sways with her.
A bird chirps in a tree nearby. Chirp. Chirp. It doesn’t stop. I can’t think. How should I answer this?
Chirp. Chirp.
As if in slow motion, I watch sweet Zoey put the pieces together. She looks behind her to the sage-green house that sits further back from the street and then swiftly back at me.
I fidget in my seat and wait for it.
“Charlie, you shouldn’t be here. Ya know Liam doesn’t live here anymore, but you know what people will say if they see your car parked out front. You really should go. Let’s get coffee sometime and catch up. Mike is back in town, too. I know he would love to see you. But sweetie, you need to go.” Zoey gives me air hugs and turns back to the sidewalk and jogs away.
Zoey is right. I have to go.
CHAPTER 02
Charlie
August 2012
I park my car outside my parents’ house, barely remembering the drive home. Maybe I should have called a cab. I don’t feel drunk, but I’m definitely hungover.
I don’t recall drinking last night, but the empty bottle and the throbbing headache suggest otherwise.
What am I going to do with myself? I sigh and pull my phone from my purse to text Quinn.
Quinn. I miss you—I wish you would forgive me. What did I do to you? I need a friend right now. I need you.
I immediately delete it.
I sneak past through the yard and in through our backdoor. This entrance to our home has always had a creak to it, even when moved slowly. I cringe as I carefully swing the door open, hoping to avoid detection and silence the creak as much as possible.
Fail. The creak has gotten worse with age. A dead giveaway to my presence.
I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman sneaking into her parents’ house. Let’s chalk the entire morning up to a new all-time low. I leave my sneakers on the rug and tiptoe into the kitchen and open the door that leads to the garage. Both cars gone. Mom and Dad must have left for work already. In that moment I realize I honestly have no idea what time it is and actually don’t care. I’m just relieved I don’t have to explain myself and get to avoid my mom’s classic look of disappointment. I know the look all too well.
I would have to explain to them that their investment in me and their hard-earned money spent on my college education is going to have to wait another day. I’ve let the entire summer slip by without any luck of a job worth noting. Everything has been kind of a blur since I’ve been back. I didn’t have the forethought to line anything up before I left college, so now I’m living back in Bend, Oregon, with my parents. I can’t lie to myself; it has been nice living rent free and having zero responsibility, but that also comes with increased pressure. The throbbing intensifies, and I know it’s time for some sleep. I will sort things out later.
Add job hunt to tomorrows to-do list.
I gather a couple Advil and a glass of water and head straight for my bedroom.
I crawl into my familiar bed. The first time I’ve felt safe all morning. I wrap myself tight in my blanket and stare around my room. My entire bedroom is exactly as I left it four years ago. The pale-blue walls are littered with photos of me and my best friends Zoey and Mike. Oh, sweet Zoey. I feel bad about this morning. I will have to call her and explain. On second thought, I’m not sure what I will explain because I don’t understand how I got there or why I was even there in the first place. I shut Zoey out all those years ago. I couldn’t face anyone after what happened to Aunt Jenny. Zoey did nothing wrong. I pushed her away. Zoey tried back then and was nothing but thoughtful and kind to me and my family. She was worried about me all those years ago; and it’s clear she still has my back today. Sweet, kind Zoey.
Everything about my room reminds me that I was a different person before everything went to shit. I close my eyes and hope for sleep, but images appear like a movie reel, flashing on the back of my heavy eyelids. Flashes of Jenny whimsically dancing around my room as her chestnut-brown hair bounces effortlessly. Her smile, her laugh; I see and hear it, like she’s still here with me.
I want to keep these visions as long as I can. I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to impress them against the back of my eyes. It never works but I always try. My eyelids involuntarily flutter. I push harder to stop them from changing scenes, but I know what’s coming next.
Rapid waves of crimson rush against my eyes. I try to open them, but they’re heavily weighted.
Jenny screams.
CHAPTER 03
Charlie
August 2012
Slivers of sunlight warm my face as I lie securely wrapped in my blanket and soak up the warmth and fieriness the sun graces upon me. I know these little glimmers of sunshine will be the best part of my day. I stretch my arms out, embracing the feeling of tension releasing in my limbs. That nap was a good idea. I really needed that. I’ve been so off lately. Not quite myself.
A realization clocks into my sleep-addled brain. I turn my head to check out the clock on my nightstand; bright red numbers display 09:02. I slept through the entire day and night? I furrow my brows in confusion and rub the grit from my eyes. Gosh, I must have been tired after yesterday’s unplanned outing. Maybe that’s it; I just needed a couple more hours sleep and now I feel right as rain. I just needed a recharge. Everything will be OK. I just need to keep myself busy today to avoid a repeat of yesterday. Whatever that was. It can’t happen again. It’s probably best if I just stay home today. I pull the covers over my head and give myself more time in bed. Thinking. Processing.
When I venture outside the house, I feel the darkness that my hometown has created for me. My own personal hell. I wish my parents had moved away when I left for college. I know we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the country, but how can any of us enjoy it anymore? Our sunny, beautiful, desert-mountain town is now tainted for me. Everything stirs up a memory and it’s too hard to bear. Every restaurant, hiking trail, running trail, corner of our house, even the beautiful cascade mountain range makes me sad or angry depending on the day. Things that used to bring me joy now only stir up memories and it hurts. I can’t go anywhere without thinking of Jenny.
I have to keep busy, keep my mind off things. I need to apply for jobs far away from here. Maybe I should do that today.
The thought overwhelms me as much as staying here, but who am I kidding? I probably won’t end up doing that today.
I’m kind of surprised my parents didn’t bother to wake me. Probably just used to their time alone now. Their routines have changed. I’m guessing that’s all it is. I feel like I haven’t seen them in days. Dad stays busy at the office and Mom has her floral shop downtown to take care of. Mom and Dad found new ways to connect after I left. They took cooking classes, dance lessons, and even learned to ski. I’m happy for them but don’t understand how they can endure the darkness and come out seemly normal now. They don’t talk about her much. I suppose it’s easier that way.
I wait until the sun is fully introduced to my room before I get out of bed. I have the whole day ahead of me. Gotta keep busy, I keep reminding myself.
I reach for my phone. No new messages. I want to text Quinn.
Instead, I wander around my room and take inventory as I walk about, mentally jotting down the things I should change if I’m going to stay. I know I need to leave sooner than later, but the inevitability of me staying is looking more likely each day since I keep putting off the job hunt. I may as well have a fresh start with a clean slate. Might as well start with my room.
Posters of my favorite bands are scattered throughout the room, mixed in with my high-school photos.
<
br /> All of that needs to come down.
Row after row of books line the bookshelves my dad made for me. My books make me happy and bring me joy, so those will stay, but the old CD player sitting atop one of the shelves has to go. Do people even have CDs anymore? I pick up a Panic! At the Disco album and put it into the dusty old CD player. I used to love this album. A little bit of happy nostalgia is welcomed right now. Upbeat music fills the room, slightly lifting my mood. The knots are still in my belly from yesterday, but I ignore them and continue on.
Gotta keep busy.
Sweet childhood stuffed animals sit one on top of one another in my green papasan chair, making it nearly unusable. I pull a tattered monkey out and toss it on the floor and manage to wedge my butt into the chair. All these have to go. Nestled in a mess of stuffed memories, I take notice of my closet. One side is lined with high-school T-shirts, sweatshirts, and Converse shoes. The other side is fancy tops, sweaters, and high heels. The drastic difference of my two lives. The only evidence of my life at the University of Iowa. I had sold nearly all of my other belongings before moving back to Oregon. It was too much of a hassle to move the things that curated my life there. I only took home with me what would fit in a couple of suitcases.
Quinn would cringe if she saw the older half of my closet; little does she know I’ve only been wearing my sneakers and T-shirts since I’ve been back. I’m OK with cozy over cute these days.
My oak desk is lined with framed family photos.
That’s strange. I get up and head toward my desk.
One of the frames is turned face-down. I must have bumped it coming in yesterday. I pick the frame up and see it’s one of me and Jenny.
I remember the day it was taken. It was her college graduation. Aunt Jenny in her black cap and gown with her orange sash, smiling from ear to ear. I’m tucked in her tight embrace. I remember thinking I was going to follow in her footsteps and attend Oregon State. I almost did too, but I couldn’t after what happened.
The knots in my tummy churn again, and I wince in pain. I hit stop on the CD player and take the frame back to the chair with me. I study the picture some more. Gosh, Jenny was so pretty. She was absolutely perfect. I wish I could be more like her. I miss her deeply.
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