“Come on, Joclyn! We want to see.”
I had looked in the mirror a second too long, trying to figure out a way to get out of this. Even if I said it was too small, my mom would insist I show her anyway. Best to get it over with. I sighed before leaving the bathroom, knowing that Mette and my mom would fawn over me. I closed my eyes so that I wouldn’t have to see my mom dance around with excitement again. The door clicked open, and I stood there, eyes closed, waiting for it to come.
“Oh, Joclyn,” my mom said, “it’s beautiful.” I didn’t need to have my eyes closed, I could hear the soles of her nonslip shoes squeak against the floor as she danced in joy.
“Mom, don’t...” I pleaded, but I knew it was useless.
“That color... with your hair... Oh, please wear it to dinner tonight, without that darn sweatshirt,” she added. I could feel her tug on the hoodie, but I hung on to it for dear life.
“Mom. No.” My eyes snapped open in my attempt to retort, and I froze. Ryland stood right in front of me, a huge grin on his face. My jaw dropped as my heart went into overdrive.
Ryland LaRue was the son of my mother’s boss. Ry was two years older than me and stood a good head taller. We had been friends since my mother first started this job, playing together in the kitchen and hiding on the grounds of the estate. Ryland would always be my very best friend, but lately, it was hard to see past his dark, curly hair, crystalline blue eyes and ‘private school rugby muscles’ without feeling like my heart was getting restarted. This heart slamming was for a different reason though; he hadn’t seen me wear anything other than a hoodie since I hit puberty. I felt uncomfortable, and Ryland’s appreciative grin wasn’t helping matters much.
Mette and my mother broke out into huge bouts of laughter at their little joke. The look of surprise on my face must have been hysterical. Rather than join along, as part of me wished to, I squeaked and moved to put my hoodie back on. I slid into it as quickly as I could without revealing my scar. I had kept it hidden from Ryland for this long, thanks to BandAids and carefully placed hoods or hair; I didn’t need him seeing it now. It would only give him a reason to run away.
“Ah, come on, Jos... It’s pretty,” Ryland pleaded.
“No,” I spoke as sternly as I could, turning to repeat the word to my mother who was in stitches with Mette against the confection mixer. My mother’s laughter stopped.
“Joclyn, you have to wear it tonight,” she pleaded. “Your grandmother bought you a matching skirt.”
“Skirt?” I gasped. There was no way they were getting me into a skirt. Although, I could tell by the look on my mom’s face that I was trapped. My birthday dinner was the only time of the year I saw my father’s parents. It would break their heart if I said no.
“Ugh. Fine. Fine!” I snapped, ignoring my mother’s look of triumph before rounding on Ryland, one finger pointed into his face. “One word of this to anyone, even mentioning it to me, Ry, and I will kill you.”
“Uh huh,” he laughed, his blue eyes rolling. “What are you going to do, Jos? Hide from me? It does look very pretty on you, you know.”
“Ryland LaRue, so help me...”
“Yeah, yeah, I got ya.” He smiled, grabbing my hand that was still pointed in his face. “Come on. I’ll have her back in an hour, Mrs. Despain.”
“Better make it two, Ryland. I don’t need her moping around while I try to get the chicken broiled.” My mother smiled so brightly that I could have almost guessed what was on her mind. More gifts.
“No problem, Mrs. D.”
“Oh, and Joclyn,” my mom’s voice called after us. I turned back to her, halting Ryland’s departure. “Please try to avoid Edmund and Timothy. I think my job has been threatened enough for one week.” She smiled, but it was half hearted. She was always the first to get in trouble over my friendship with Ryland.
I nodded in understanding before Ry pulled me out of the kitchen and into the servants’ quarters. We gained the usual snickers and side glances as we scampered past the many rooms occupied by the live-in staff, heading to the back corridors that the servants used to move around the massive house.
At first, our friendship had been tolerated by Edmund, but a few years ago that had started to change and we had been labeled as unacceptable. Then last year, we were told we were not supposed to be friends at all. Ryland had been warned and threatened by his father to stay away from me, while my mother had been under constant “warning” of losing her job. I wasn’t surprised. To King Edmund I was nothing more than a dirty peasant. We probably should have taken it seriously, but Ryland insisted everything was okay, so my mother and I followed his lead.
We entered the upper hall where Ryland’s bedroom sat, the door just ahead of us on the left. I kept my eyes straight ahead, smiling like a loon. That was until an unusually short man in a three piece suit with a thick, neatly trimmed beard turned the corner to face us. I jumped behind Ryland, not needing his arm to move me there. I knew that man, and I hated him.
Timothy Vincent was the Vice President of Ryland’s family’s company, Imdalind Forging. He was responsible for the metal forging method that had made them their millions. Timothy was also the man who reprimanded my mother on a weekly basis about my continued relationship with Ryland. He caught sight of us and moved forward quickly, an even angrier scowl than usual carved into his face. Timothy always made me uncomfortable, even on his best days.
“Ryland, we have been looking for you.”
My heart sank. We. That could only mean one thing.
A deeper gait entered the hall, and I moved further behind Ry. I didn’t have to see Edmund LaRue to know what he looked like. In many ways, Ryland could be described as his father’s clone, but instead of the mop of loose curls Ryland had, Edmund kept his hair short and slicked back in a gentle wave. Where Ryland’s eyes were the warm and welcoming color of the depths of the ocean, Edmund’s were as cold and distant as the polar ice caps. They always cut into me with a frigid, poisonous edge that made my insides repulse.
I sank into Ryland’s back, my face pressing against his polo shirt in an attempt to hide. His muscles were tensed and strained.
Ryland’s hand reached back and found the tips of my fingers that stuck out from the cuff of my hoodie. He squeezed my fingers between his in an attempt to reassure me. As always, his touch warmed my body, the tingling warmth shooting right to my stomach.
“Ryland! I am so glad we found you. I would like to move our lesson to an hour after dinner.” Edmund’s voice was laced with a false endearment that shook my bones. His statement was not a question, but a command.
Ryland had been taking lessons with his father since he was twelve. Ry had always insisted it was some fencing thing, but the way they talked about it always made it seem so sinister, like they were going to take over the world. Who knew? Maybe they were. Corporate drama was a little out of my league.
“Yes, Father, that’s fine. I will meet you in the court.” Ryland’s voice was distant and diplomatic. When he talked like this, he reminded me of the heir to the multimillion dollar company he was, not my energetic, funloving best friend.
“Ryland,” Timothy spoke slowly, dragging out his syllables, and I knew he was going to address our friendship. I shifted my weight, cursing the dark hoodie that stuck out from behind my hiding place. “I am so glad to see you have taken our advice about your choice of friends.” Timothy’s voice seemed hopeful, odd, seeing as how I stood right here.
I attempted to draw the fabric closer to my body. Being so close to both of them made me almost, dare I say it, scared.
“I have expressed my opinion on this multiple times, Timothy. Please do not make me repeat it.” Ryland stood a little straighter as he attempted to end the conversation.
“Now, now, Ryland. We don’t need any of that.” Edmund’s voice lacked any warmth. “After all, I would hate for your attitude to be the cause of a downfall.”
I cringed. Was he talking about me, or about my mother? Ed
mund had never before said anything so bold when I was within earshot; it was almost like he couldn’t see me. That, in itself, was a ridiculous thought; Ryland wasn’t broad enough to hide behind, even with all his muscle.
“You know my terms in regards to that, Father.” I could see Edmund’s expensive penny loafers slide against the white carpet. I shifted my weight, scared he was moving to get a better look at me.
“So it would seem. Well, at least now I won’t have to dismiss her mother, or worse. We just can’t have anything spoiling my perfect son, now, can we?” Edmund’s body shifted as he moved closer. Ryland’s fingers pressed harder against my own.
“No, Father.” There was a pause and then Edmund’s shiny leather shoes stepped away from us down the hall. Timothy’s shoes followed Edmund’s hesitantly, like they were waiting for something else to happen before he turned the corner.
We moved the last few steps quickly, darting into Ryland’s spacious room before either of them had a chance to return.
Ryland’s bedroom was roughly the size of my entire apartment. The giant rectangular space was separated down the middle on the left side by a long wall that housed a kitchenette on one side and Ryland’s massive entertainment system on the other. The other half of the room contained his oversized bed that still sported the colored blankets we had used to make forts when we were little kids. Behind it all was a bathroom and a closet the size of a small motor home that contained far too many clothes for someone who went to a school that required uniforms.
I went to the high cabinet next to the entertainment center where he kept the chocolate before plopping down on his bed to enjoy a Mounds Bar. Ryland locked the door behind him, just in case his father or the servants decided to get nosey, and turned on some brainless TV show as he went.
“I hate them, you know. Hate,” I spat sourly, ripping the wrapper off the candy.
“That’s a strong word, Jos.”
“I know, but don’t you think they deserve it? Saying all that about how I am going to ruin you, talking about me like I was not even there. It’s like they couldn’t even see me.”
“Maybe they couldn’t,” Ryland said almost inaudibly.
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny, Ry.” I paused at the curious glance Ryland gave me. “They wouldn’t hurt anyone because of me, would they?”
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Ry grumbled as he leaned against the wall his TV was mounted to.
My head jerked up. “They would?” Not cool.
“Don’t worry so much, Jos. I wouldn’t let them, even if they tried. If I could get them to be nice to you, I would, but I can’t. Either way, you don’t need to worry about it. You only have to deal with them for the rest of the year. I get him for my entire life.”
I sighed and the candy bar fell untouched to my lap. I didn’t like the daily reminders that Ryland was leaving overseas for college in just a few months’ time. Oxford, a huge giant ocean away. I tried to push the information to the back of my mind. I would be lucky if I ever saw him again.
“So, did you get the role?” Ryland asked eagerly, plopping down beside me, his obvious change in subject managed as smoothly as possible.
“No, of course not. The role went to Cynthia McFadden, not that anyone was really surprised.”
“What? You read the role perfectly!”
“Well, I did here in your bedroom. In the school gymnasium, I’m not sure the drama teacher could hear my monologue over the catcalls about my lack of hygiene...” I hoped that didn’t sound too bitter.
Cynthia had brought half the football team with her and they had quite a fun time jeering at anyone who auditioned for the same role as the cheerleader. I thought I had done a good job, even with the jocks yelling at me to bathe or brush my hair, but Ms. Flowers didn’t think so.
“What role did you get then?” His silky voice was calm and eager.
“None.”
“None? You would have been cast as Ophelia without question if you had auditioned at my school.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course I would have. You go to an all boys’ school!”
“I guess you’re right. But Michael Aliente has been eyeing that role for years now; you might have had your work cut out for you.”
“Well, I don’t think I could beat Michael; he’s way too good at those monologues.” We laughed, the thought of tiny Michael in a long Shakespearean gown bringing tears to my eyes.
“Do you want me to do something? I could make a phone call...”
“No!” I snapped. He had said it with only good intentions, but his face moved from concern to shock. My racing heart plummeted; I didn’t mean to offend him. “I mean, no, thank you. Cynthia will be great in the role, though she may come off as more of a floozy than a crazy girl, but, whatever.”
“That’s not what I meant, Jos. I meant about the guys teasing you. I could always pick you up from school in the Lotus; that would stop them in their tracks.”
“They would only say I paid you.” I smiled at him. I loved Ryland when he got like this; he was an incredibly caring guy.
He didn’t return the smile. Instead, he looked at me as if I had just sold his precious car, to buy a longboard made of solid gold. “Joclyn, I don’t like them making fun of you, especially when they say things that are not true. I mean, really! You, not bathe. I can smell your shampoo from a mile away.”
“How do you know that’s not just the perfume I use to cover up the almighty stench?”
“Joclyn.”
“Ryland.” My glare was no match for his; his blue eyes cut into me. “It’s all right, really. It’s not like there’s anything you can do.”
“I have a full rugby team who would gladly fight for your honor.”
“What, do we live in 1740 now?” I laughed. He didn’t. Strangely enough, he was serious. “You would fight the Eagles’ Landing football team for my ‘honor’?”
He nodded.
I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Why? I mean, no one cares about me. I disappear in that school. They only said those things because they couldn’t even remember who I was. I only auditioned because it was part of my grade...”
“I care about you, Jos, and I don’t want people talking about you like that.” My heart sputtered before I turned to him, making sure the mark below my ear remained covered.
“That’s why you’re my best friend, Ry, because you care. You are the only one who knows me.” I smiled at him in a desperate attempt to convey that I was okay, that the name calling didn’t hurt, even if it did. I could tell he wasn’t buying it. He could always see through my looks. “I’m fine, Ryland. Honest.”
I waited, but he didn’t say anything. I could just see him barging into my school with a dozen other guys in dark blue blazers. Ugh.
“Ry, I am asking you as nicely as I can manage to not do anything. I can handle it; you don’t always have to protect me.” I tried to put as much energy into my voice as I could. I am not sure it worked.
“All right, I won’t do anything. It’s just a crappy way to spend your birthday.”
“That’s okay. I got a great shirt, soon to be skirt, combo out of it, which I will never wear. So, no harm done.”
“You know, you really should wear...”
“Don’t start, Ryland,” I said, falling back on his bed.
“You just need the right accessories, is all.” He spoke quite calmly as he placed a small wrapped box on my chest. I sat up, letting the box fall into my lap.
“What? Are you asking me to marry you?” I scoffed the words, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off the box.
“Hell, no! I have been engaged to Cynthia McFadden for years. Didn’t you know?” He pushed into my shoulder, almost knocking me over. “Just open it.”
I moved back to a sitting position like a weeble toy. I couldn’t say anything; the richest guy in the state had just given me a jewelry box. Part of me didn’t want it, but the girl inside of me forced my fingers to rip the pape
r off.
The box was black velvet, soft to the touch. I caressed it like the box itself was the gift before opening it to reveal an inside of soft black silk. Nestled into the shiny fabric was a teardrop shaped ruby the size of my thumbnail. The beautiful jewel was suspended from a silver wire that wrapped around the Ruby in swirls and spirals that joined it to the thin silver chain. I could only stare at it. I knew without asking that the ruby was real. The necklace was worth more than my mother made in a year.
“Do you like it?” Ryland’s voice was soft, entertained by my reaction as he chuckled at my solitary head bob of a response. He grabbed the necklace out of the box and moved to place it around my neck.
“Sorry it’s not a car,” he laughed, “but your mom wanted to give you a full new outfit for your birthday and forced—eh, recruited me to help. I thought this would set off the diamonds in your eyes. I think she will do anything to get you out of those hoodies and jeans.”
I looked down at the necklace that now hung around my neck, my voice coming back. I moved my hair out from under the chain, careful not to show that dreaded mark.
“Besides,” Ryland continued, “you can always wear your new outfit under a hoodie and then your mom can still feel like she won.” I couldn’t help but laugh, though, I also felt like crying. I had never received anything so beautiful, something that I instantly loved. Darn my girl emotions! One tear had leaked out.
“Thank you, Ryland. It’s beautiful. I love it.” My voice did not get above a whisper.
“You know, Jos, you’re more of a girl than you let on. I’m just glad I am the one who gets to see it.” With that, Ryland kissed my forehead. I thought my heart might explode.
I hadn’t had a birthday this good, ever.
Two
Joclyn
That all ended with dinner.
We always met my grandparents at the same place; a little Mexican dive called La Fea Gato. La Fea Gato was in Sunnyvale, perfectly distanced between our two houses, so we each had to drive an hour to meet for dinner. After having done it for eleven years, it wasn’t a big deal. I even had a favorite dish on the menu and spent the majority of the hour drive dreaming of Chile Verde rather than listening to my mom dote over how pretty I looked, and how big the rock Ryland had given me was.
Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery Page 2