Elite

by Madison Stevens

  A tanned faced flashed into my head. I shook out my thoughts.

  “I don’t know,” I said quietly.

  “Well,” she said. “I guess you had better think on that.”

  I nodded and watched as the sun disappeared over the hydrangeas. It seemed like some sort of dream and nightmare all balled up together. How could I choose anything when I had no idea where to even start?

  We sat in silence for a moment and looked out over the garden. The first stars were just making their appearance when Grandmother turned and spoke.

  “Did you know I once had a daughter?” she asked so quietly, I wasn’t quite sure I had heard her correctly.

  I whipped my head around to look at her. As far as I knew, my dad was an only child.

  “No,” I said. Confusion swept through me. How did I never know this?

  “We never talk of her,” she said, in answer to my unasked question.

  “Why?” My voice was barely a whisper.

  “She was younger than you are today, and your grandfather had everything all planned out for her. It’s amazing what people will justify when they love someone,” she said and looked over at me. “Kathryn was happy following her father’s requests until she met Matt. He was not the man your grandfather would have picked for her, and he made that known.”

  I watched as her face fell, the pale light of the moon allowing just enough light to see the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.

  “They fought for weeks over Matt. Your father was so young and needed watching. I couldn’t intervene as much as I wanted.” She looked to me. Her face was drained of color, and her voice quivered as she spoke. “Kathryn left one evening after another fight. She had packed a bag and was planning on running away with Matt.”

  I gasped. It would be a scandal today. I couldn’t even imagine what it would have been then.

  “The roads were slippery that night.” She took several deep breaths to steady herself. “She was found the next day. Her car had slid off the bridge into town. She must have hit her head and drowned in the icy waters.”

  A lump formed in my throat as I stared at the old woman whom I thought I knew. I rose from my chair and knelt in front of her. My arms wrapped around her middle, as I laid my head in her lap.

  “I’m so sorry, Grandmother,” I said softly.

  She ran her fingers through my hair, and I wondered who was comforting whom.

  “It’s been years, but there isn’t a day I don’t think of her,” she said. Her hand stilled on my head.

  I sat back up to look at her and smiled when she cupped my cheeks.

  “Your father loves you, but that doesn’t mean he knows what’s best for you,” she said. “You hold firm. No running away, no just following along like a good girl. You deserve to live life as you see fit.”

  I took a deep breath before I responded. “I just wish I knew what was right for me.”

  Grandmother patted my shoulder and sat back.

  “You will,” she said. “You are smart and capable of more than you give yourself credit for.”

  I sat back on my feet, slightly stunned by her compliment.

  “Now,” she pushed her chair back and stood, “I’m setting you with a task, Grace.”

  I looked up at her from my position on the ground. She seemed much larger than life from there.

  “Take a few risks. Break out of the norm.” She pressed her lips together as I stood. “Find yourself,” she said quietly.

  I stared at her for a moment. She might as well have asked me to find Bigfoot. I think I’d have a better chance of it.

  “How?”

  She smiled sadly at me. I wondered what she saw in me that made her so sad.

  “One year. Take one year to do all the things you wanted or have held yourself back from doing.” I opened my mouth to protest but stopped when she held up a hand. “One year,” she said firmly. “I’ll tell your father to back off. I can’t guarantee it will always work, but it should help.”

  “I don’t…” All those walls that had been built, all those years were suddenly coming down, and yet I felt even more trapped than ever before. My walls were safe. They meant I knew what was coming, what to expect.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Grandmother stared back with interest.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” I said finally.

  She took my arm and guided me inside.

  “Start small,” she said as we walked the halls to the stairs. “Make a list if you need to.”

  As we climbed the stairs, my heart raced. I had no idea what to do. Her expectations for me were so high, what if I failed her? Maybe she had some sort of idea as to what I would become.

  We stopped at the top of the stairs, and she pulled me into a solid hug.

  “This isn’t supposed to be a punishment. I want you to stand on your own in this world, however that might be. Branch out and see where things go.” She gave one last squeeze and pulled away.

  I nodded slowly.

  “So, I’ll say good bye now. I’ll be gone when you leave in the morning. Another charity event coming up at the Children’s Hospital.” She winked.

  It was a well-known fact that Father had invested in that hospital as a tax write-off. So it annoyed him to no end that Grandmother was constantly putting more money into the place.

  “Good night, Grandmother,” I said and walked to the door across the hall.

  “Grace,” Grandmother called before I went inside. I turned to look at her. “Call and let me know how things are going.”

  I nodded and went into the room. As the door clicked into place, I wondered what the hell I was going to do. She wasn’t just asking me to get better grades or join a college club, but to change everything I had ever known.

  At this point, it didn’t even seem like an option. How was I going to branch out at this point in life? This wasn’t really the time when people did that sort of thing, right?

  I thought about it, as I paced in my room. Actually, this sort of seemed like something most of the college kids on TV were going through, trying to find things they liked and didn’t like.

  My mind wandered to my interests. Painting had always been a passion of mine, but it hadn’t been something that either of my parents supported. It was fine to have a hobby as long as it was acceptable and helped promote you in the world of business. Painting wasn’t something that really did that.

  I chuckled. This didn’t seem like the kind of to-do list that most college kids would have.

  I sat at the desk in the room and pulled out a very berry scented pink paper. I had purchased it years ago to write Emma while staying with Grandmother. Of course, that had lasted all of a day, but at least, I could finally make use of it.

  I was surprised with how easy my list came out. Most of my ideas were on the easy side. After all, Grandmother had said to start small, but the more I thought about it, the bigger the ideas became. I glanced at my phone and was surprised to find I’d been at it for nearly an hour.

  I stared at the sheet and smiled. It was good and felt like me, and most of the goals were attainable. Some were a little on the daring side, but that was the point. I shook my head and placed the paper in my purse. We’d see how I felt about the whole thing in the morning.

  My mind wandered again as I got ready for bed. It was almost funny how quickly I fell back into my childhood patterns. Such a busy house, and yet most of my time was spent alone. It was no surprise that Chance and I latched on to one another. Our parents running in the same circles meant that we had grown up much the same.

  As I pulled back the blankets, I sighed. So many years feeling alone, and I was right back where I started. Boyfriend gone, brother gone, and best friend gone. In the end, I wondered if I was just destined to be alone. Dean’s smiling face floated through my head as I snuggled into my pillow.

  “She said let go, not go crazy,” I said.

  It didn’t matter how much I might want
something to happen with Dean, we just weren’t a good match. I could picture the look on my parent’s faces when I brought him home. And as much as I wanted to rebel against them, it wouldn’t be nice to use him that way. He was a nice guy and deserved more than that. More than I could ever give him.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  “Damn,” I said, staring at the bent nail. Grumbling, I grabbed it with the claw of the hammer, pulled it out and placed it with the others on the table.

  “Are you trying to make holes for the neighbors to see in?” I turned to find Heather standing in the doorway to my room in the luxury dorm.

  “There’s something wrong with these nails.” I flopped onto my bed.

  Heather pulled the hammer out of my hand and laughed.

  “Or maybe there’s something wrong with the person trying to hammer them,” she said.

  I glared up at her from the bed. “Whatever. I can’t help it if they make nails extra bendy.”

  She smirked at me as she took the hammer and a fresh nail over to the wall. Holes littered the wall just below her hand. With a couple quick taps, the nail was in place. I watched her face as she lifted my latest piece.

  “Nice flowers,” she said.

  It wasn’t really a burn, but from some reason, it sparked something in me. Like she was trying to say something.

  “Well, it’s a good thing it’s not hanging in your room I guess,” I snapped back.

  She turned with surprise to look at me. I hadn’t intended to snap at her, but my painting was still a sensitive subject.

  Heather sat next to me and patted my knee.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said. I turned to look at her. “Your paintings are always amazing. It’s just,” she paused to look around, “don’t you ever feel a bit frozen in time?”

  I frowned and looked around my room. It seemed perfectly modern to me. Little hints of old mixed in but perfectly in order.

  “I don’t understand,” I said

  She sighed and stood. I watched as she walked around the room, picking up random things here and there.

  “Listen, I get that you are a girly girl, but this,” she waved around the room, “this is the room of a twelve year old.”

  I looked around the room. Hints of light pink surrounded me. A few stuffed animals from my childhood sat on the chair in the corner. My antique vanity set reflected back my many products.

  “I like pink,” I said after a moment.

  She tossed me a stuffed bear and then came to sit next to me.

  “Is that how you get your rocks? Letting Fluff-n-stuff watch?” She grabbed the bear back out of my hand.

  “Oh, you are twisted.” I laughed and grabbed for the bear.

  “Hey,” she said as I pulled the bear away. “I’m not the one making stuffed animals watch my hot monkey love.”

  I thumped her with the bear.

  “His name isn’t Fluff-n-stuff. It’s Fred.” I stared at the old bear. He was nearly as old as me.

  Heather threw herself back on the bed. “I give up. You’re hopeless.”

  “Where does this suitcase go?” a deep voice rumbled from the hall.

  I froze and stared at the door. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I listened to Dean talk with Gavin.

  “That’s Grace’s. If you could just put it in her room,” Gavin answered.

  My arms twitched as I tried to figure out what to do. It had been months since I’d seen Dean, but it felt like years. My breath caught in my throat as he appeared in the doorway. His dark hair was once again sun-kissed. He had spent a great deal of time outside if his deep tan was any indication.

  “I see you two have found very important jobs.” He grinned.

  My heart picked up even faster, and I fumbled to find something to say.

  Heather patted the bed between us. “Come help us keep the blanket from getting away.”

  Dean laughed and set the luggage by the door. I stopped breathing as he came to stand between the two of us. One glance at the twinkle in his eye, and I knew what he was going to do.

  The air whooshed around him as he sat on the bed and then lay back. I lay down next to him and tried to stare only at the ceiling. His spicy scent tickled my nose and made me want to bury myself against his neck.

  He nudged my leg. I jumped.

  “Is that a new one?” he asked.

  I turned to look at him.

  “New what?” His deep blue eyes stared back.

  He grinned, and I shook a little.

  “A new painting,” he said quietly.

  I turned to stare back at the pinks and purples in the hydrangeas from the garden.

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  “It’s nice,” he replied.

  “Have you tried painting something a little more real?” Heather piped up.

  It had been so intimate between us, I had nearly forgotten that she was there.

  I sat up on my elbows to look at her.

  “What do you mean real? There were real flowers,” I said. My face flushed. “And I painted Emma’s grandmother.”

  “No, I mean, something that’s a reflection of reality,” she said.

  I stared at her, not quite understanding her meaning.

  She sighed. “Like not someone who’s posed but more a moment in time. A woman who’s sad, a toddler petting a cat, those sorts of things.”

  I lay back and thought about what she had said. It would be interesting to try and see. I had enough to go on with it.

  “What the…” Emma said from the hall. I turned to look at her. “What the hell are you all doing? We’ve got a ton more work to do, and you’re in here loafing around?”

  She threw her hands up in the air as she walked away.

  I turned to look at Dean, who grinned back at me.

  “Think she means we should get up?” His eyes twinkled as he talked.

  “Likely,” Heather said.

  Dean popped off the bed and held out his hand for me. Electricity zipped through me as I slipped my hand into his. He pulled hard, and I was easily lifted from the bed. I bit my lip as my body brushed his. The heat from his stare was almost too much for me to take.

  “Can’t a farm girl get a hand around here?” Heather said from the bed.

  I moved quickly away from Dean and his disarming stare. In the living room, Gavin and Emma worked the finishing touches. I felt the heat from the others behind me and moved further into the room.

  “Finally,” Emma said as she hung the clock on the wall. “You all can start in the kitchen while we wait for pizza.”

  A knock came at the door. Being the closest, I made my way over. I could feel Dean’s stare as I moved. Expecting it to be the delivery guy, I pulled out money from my pocket. The door swung open, and I stopped, hand still buried in my jeans.

  “Hi, Grace,” Chance said.

  He had changed some since the last time I’d seen him. Dark circles marked his eyes, and his appearance was more disheveled than I had ever seen him. It almost made me feel sorry for him.

  “I just wanted to come by and see you,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair.

  “Now isn’t really a good time,” I said quietly.

  He looked around my shoulder at the group behind me. I glanced around and found Dean’s eyes fixed on Chance. Anger boiled in his blue eyes. When I turned around, I found Chance in much the same state.

  “Yeah,” Chance said. “You look busy.”

  “I am busy,” I said and leaned in to whisper to him. “Don’t do this. You don’t have any right to.” I sighed. “Just go. Please.”

  He grabbed my hand. I jumped.

  “Call me,” he whispered. “Please, just call me.”

  I pulled my hand from his. “Okay.”

  He nodded and shot a cold look over my shoulder. I didn’t have to guess who it was aimed at.

  When I turned around, everyone was staring at me. I was surprised when Gavin spoke.

  “You’re
going to get back together with him, aren’t you?” he spat out.

  “I’m sure that would make your parents happy,” Dean mumbled.

  I stared between the two, anger and sadness lancing through me.

  “Are you serious?” I felt my voice shake with emotion.

  Gavin stared me in the eyes, his gaze even and cold.

  “Are you?” He took a step forward. “That guy treats you like shit, and you just go running back to him first chance you get? Maybe you should just go work for Father. You two would work well together.”

  I stepped back as if I’d been slapped. My heart hurt as I stared at him. The others in the room looked away when I turned to them for help. When I looked back to him, Gavin was staring at the floor, like he hadn’t meant for his words to come out.

  “So that’s what you think of me?” I said. “That I’m just a yes man?” He looked up but kept silent. My hands balled into fists as I tried to contain my rage. “Well, how about this? Fuck you.”

  Someone gasped, but I kept my focus on my brother.

  I sneered. “How are you any better? So you don’t think Chance is a good choice, and I should just do what you say? Maybe you’re more like Father than you like to admit.” I stepped forward and pointed a finger at him. “Everyone keeps trying to tell me how to live my life and judging me. Well to hell with you all. From now on, no one tells me what to do or points out my faults unless you’d like me to point out yours.”

  I turned on my heels and stomped to my bedroom door.

  “Oh, and just for the record, I happen to fucking like pink,” I said and slammed the door behind me. The pictures on the wall rattled with the force. Just to drive the point home, I turned the lock and tossed myself on the bed.

  Tears rolled down my face. It was all just too much. Everyone seemed to get an opinion about my life but me. Emma wanted me to follow my painting. My father wanted me to follow him, and my mother wanted me to follow her. Gavin wanted me to stay away from Chance, and Heather wanted me to pick a different color for my room. Did it even matter what I wanted?

  I huffed and turned to look at the new painting on the wall. Grandmother was right. I needed to find a new path. It was obvious the one I was on wasn’t working anymore. It didn’t mean I was going to change everything about me, but I certainly wasn’t going to let anyone else call the shots. I was taking control of my own life.