Frosty Blues: A Westbrook Blues Novella

by Thandiwe Mpofu

  “To hell with that,” he thunders, taking a long stride in my direction, then forces himself to stop, the look on his face enough to send demons screaming back to hell. “I never want to hear you say that shit, ever again!”

  “Don’t act like you care, I got the memo,” I sniffle, trying to gather my dignity. “Now leave me alone. I need to lick my wounds without you looking at me like I’m ridiculous.”

  “That’s not…”

  “Just go, Emmett. You’ve done enough.”

  When the door shuts behind him, I almost breakdown, hugging my center with a firm grip, trying to keep myself upright but who am I kidding? I fall apart in that bathroom and have to quickly drag myself to my room where I lock the door and cry silently, my chest aching with the emptiness and loss that’s always been there from the day I was born, left abandoned in the cold with my five-year-old brother crying over me.

  Emptiness from my mother.

  My unknown father.

  Myself.

  And now, him…

  But, how can I be this heartbroken over him? He’s never even kissed me.

  Unrequited.

  Unwanted.

  Unlovable…

  It’s been two days and the chilly breeze in this damn cabin rivals the cold outside.

  Everyone’s walking around angry, tense and all broody, like it’s the end of the fucking world. Well, that’s everyone apart from Star and me.

  Well, at least that’s what I thought until she took a good look at what she’s done by mixing the demons and half angels and started crying in my arms last night.

  And now, I’m fucking pissed.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand, staring at Noah who’s been in rare form the past couple of days. And that’s saying something. He isn’t blowing up, bursting out snide, petty remarks. Instead, he’s decided to go a different route, giving everyone—including Star—the silent treatment.

  “Leave me alone,” he mumbles, looking like a raging bull. I’m not stupid, something happened with him and that girl, Kimberly.

  They avoid each other like the plague, hardly looking at each other when they cross paths, but they fucking watch for each other, like they’re both wondering where exactly the other asshole is, it’s psychotic to me.

  “Don’t get in your feelings with me, you could’ve bailed easily enough,” I counter. I mean, Spider left with a shake of his head at the mess in this house. I wouldn’t be surprised if Noah follows suit. “Why didn’t you?”

  He grunts.

  “Why would he?” Emmett says quietly from where he’s reading some shit on his iPad. “He’s been fucking obsessed over her and now they’re in the same place, you think he’ll leave just like that?”

  Eventually he will, but I don’t think he’s ready to hear that.

  “Shut up, Em,” Noah grunts. “I don’t obsess over her.”

  “You talk in your drunken sleep,” Em says, nonchalant as ever. He too, has been in rare form. Don’t get me wrong, the self-righteous jerk is silent by default but these days, he’s acting strange, jumpy, more annoyed than ever.

  “The fuck?” Noah seethes.

  “He’s still doing that?” I question, smirking at Noah who’s mixing some chocolate cake-brownie mix or whatever.

  We’re in the kitchen. It’s our fucking turn to make dinner as it’s Christmas Eve. Star, bless her devious heart, thinks we’re actually doing something progressive in here. What she doesn’t know is we just ordered some shit to be delivered. It’s always good to have buttloads of money.

  “What do you mean by that?” Noah demands. “I don’t talk in my fucking sleep.”

  We ignore him.

  “He never stopped,” Em says to me. “I think it’s worse now with old age.”

  “He needs help.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “Hey assholes, I’m right here!” Noah growls, waving a bag full of…

  “What the fuck is that?” I question, eyebrow raised.

  “Well, if I can’t drink, I sure as hell am going to medicate,” he says with a shrug, his shoulders set and tense, as if he’s waiting for a fight.

  “You can’t smoke that here. It’s too fucking strong. Star might inhale that shit.”

  “And Ivy,” Em chimes in, scrolling through his iPad.

  “Urgh, come off it with that shit,” Noah sneers. “You think I’m baking this shit for nothing?”

  Of course. “Fuck, when is this food coming?”

  “In an hour,” Em says quietly, forever unbothered as if we’re not all hungry.

  “What? That’s what you said two hours ago.”

  “That was before Noah went and cancelled the fucking order and decided to get something else.”

  I stare at Noah, getting pissed now.

  “What?”

  “It’s as if you’re begging to get your ass kicked,” I mutter. “You know those girls will be in here any minute now, angry like banshees without food.”

  They both shudder.

  “I told him he just opened the gates of hell, but like always he didn’t listen.”

  “Shut up, Emmett,” Noah growls. “You seem to have found your fucking wise ass voice over this shit trip. Good for you.”

  “Just to remind your ass that it fucking works.”

  Uh, well fucking then. “Are you two going to air out what’s going on between you two?” I question, watching them closely, seeing my answer before Noah even opens his mouth.

  “Air what out? It’s not like I’m the one holding secrets and shit about my family.”

  “It’s not a secret when I told you to ask the appropriate person,” Emmett fires back, putting his iPad down on the counter, his full attention now on Noah.

  Noah gives him his back, taking out a baking tray or whatever to put that batter in.

  “I’m not doing any of that.”

  “Why? Are you so afraid of what you might find? Scared of the truth like a little bitch?”

  “There’s that word again. Truth.” Noah spits out the word like it’s revolting. “Do either of you even know what it means? Cause I sure as fuck know that it means nothing to you assholes.”

  Okay, so we are doing this.

  “None of us claimed to be perfect, Noah, so knock this whole pouty shit off,” I say seriously, feeling tired of this shit. “We hurt you. Emmett and I lied to you, left you in the dark with some shit. We thought we knew better but obviously we didn’t, I get that. We’re fucking sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he blows up. “You think I want your fucking sorry?”

  “Then what the fuck do you want? A hug? A sippy cup? Your fucking mother? Because this is getting old,” I grit out. “Emmett’s right there, you’re pissed at him. I’m fucking apologizing and you’re acting like it’s beneath you. What the fuck do you want?”

  “How about you both fix that trust that’s shattered between us, how about you start there!” he shouts, opening the oven door harshly, then banging it closed after placing the tray in carelessly.

  “You didn’t switch it on,” Em says with a sigh.

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” he says. Sidestepping Noah, he reaches for the dials and programs the timer and temperature.

  “See that? I can’t even do anything without the two of you treating me like an invalid who can’t even do this shit right,” Noah seethes. “It’s always, ‘Noah, you’re drinking too much’. Or, ‘Noah, did you go to class today?’ ‘Noah, blah, fucking blah’. When the fuck are you going to treat me equally? You’d respect George, who betrayed all of us, before you treat me like a fucking adult.”

  “Maybe if you actually grow the fuck up, no one would have to treat you like a fucking child.”

  “Fuck you, King!”

  I shrug, unfazed. “What exactly is going on with you?”

  “What?”

  “We’re not stupid, Noah,” Em says smoothly. “If there’s anyone who can fucking be angry and still be a charming shit
head with his feelings in check, it’s you. But you’re being wild, reckless, and stupid.”

  “So, I ask again, what’s going on with you? Besides being twisted up over Kimberly.”

  Noah frowns, breathing fast and hard, like he’s about to explode. Emmett shoots me a look. I frown, piecing things together.

  The talk about Noah’s mother, Christina.

  The fact that he was in Westbrook Blues. And why was Emmett there too?

  “Is he back?” I demand, staring at my brothers, my best friends. “Are both of those assholes back?” I don’t need to clarify, they know who I’m talking about.

  Emmett grows still. Noah looks away. “When?” I seethe.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Noah seethes. Emmett just holds my gaze, not saying a word. I translate that as Emmett speak for mind your damn business.

  With a resigned sigh, I decide to leave it, fully aware that something sinister is going on.

  Yeah, we fucking hate fathers.

  “What now?” I question. “Because I know for damn sure I’m not going to sit around watching you bitch around.”

  “You know what, I’m tired of the mood in this fucking house, acting like somebody died,” Em says. “At least we should set the right mood.”

  “Ah, now see, I like the way you assholes think,” Noah says, now excited, almost bouncing up and down like a fucking bunny. “We haven’t done this in forever.”

  I stare out the window. It’s already darkening, the perfect setting.

  “You know what boys, let’s play a little game…”

  “Okay, I’m sick of this silent treatment thing you both have going on,” I say, bursting into Kim and Ivy’s room. “Both of you get up! This is ridiculous.”

  I look around the room, hardly believing what I’m seeing right now.

  Ivy is wrapped to the neck in blankets by the window nook, looking cozy, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. Like they’ve been for days. Who would upset Ivy this much? Emmett freaking Easton is who! That jerk!

  Kim’s in bed, scrolling through her phone with a blank expression on her pale face, looking equally as miserable as Ivy, if not more so.

  “Oh my God, get up, Ivy! Kimberly!” I stomp my foot. “This is pitiful.”

  “Hmm, then it looks as bad as it feels,” Ivy mutters sullenly, staring out the window.

  “What? What happened to you? Get up! You’ve been in here for days.”

  “It’s been a few hours since we saw you at lunch, Raea, don’t be dramatic,” Ivy mutters. Kim grunts her agreement.

  “No, you’re the ones being dramatic, stuck in here like someone died.”

  “Someone did die,” Kim mutters.

  “An average of one hundred and twenty people die every minute in the world, Astraea, this is nothing new.”

  I pause. “Okay, your interest in death is now concerning, Ivy, don’t make me call your brother.”

  “He left.”

  Shit, she knows.

  “I’ll call your Gran.”

  “Network out here is shitty. It’s snowing out there,” she says in a monotone voice. I frown, studying her. What happened with her and Emmett exactly? She was the happiest when we got here but overnight, everything changed, joining Kim and Noah’s pity party.

  “Seriously? You just have an answer ready for everything, huh?”

  She turns to look at me.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Raea, but seriously, I’m not getting up.”

  “Same,” Kim says. “Told you this was a bad idea.”

  “Okay, both of you are making me feel bad,” I sigh, stepping further into the room. “I just thought if we could all come together…”

  “That it would fix everything?” Kim mutters, still staring at her phone.

  “I hoped,” I mutter, not certain about that anymore.

  “I mean, I get it Raea,” Kim mumbles. “But honestly, this just made everything worse.”

  “Will you tell me what happened?” I ask.

  “No,” they both say at the same time.

  “Okay, I respect that. Do you want to talk? About anything at all, I won’t judge.”

  “No,” they mutter.

  Well then.

  It’s at that moment that we all sniff the air like junkies.

  Kim sits up, Ivy perks up too and I turn around to the open door.

  “Is that chocolate?” Ivy questions, pushing away the blankets, seemingly interested in life now.

  “You’re damn right it is,” Kim says, getting up too.

  Quickly thanking the lucky stars that Ace has my back, I turn around with a smile. “See, I was coming to get you so we can have some chocolatey goodness. Guaranteed to help with incurable sadness.”

  “That’s what I need, thanks Raea!” Ivy says, jumping up, dropping her ton of blankets like she’s just woken from hibernation.

  “Of course, come on.” Grabbing both their hands, I drag them out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen where the chocolatey heaven waits.

  “Damn, Raea, where did you get this burst of strength?” Ivy questions.

  “And annoying energy,” Kim grumbles.

  Honestly, I’m surprised I’m this energetic too. “Your sulking behavior is a good enough endorsement, now shut up and come on.”

  “Did you bake something?” Ivy questions. No, I didn’t but who’s going to dispute me?

  “Uh, yes,” I say, uncertain, looking around the kitchen. What did these boys bake? There’s a tray of… brownies cooling by the window. “I made brownies!” I announce triumphantly.

  “You bake?” Kim questions, eyeing me skeptically.

  “It’s a recently acquired skill, believe me.”

  “Smells good, let’s have some!” Ivy says, grabbing some plates and forks.

  “I’ll get the whipped cream and stuff,” Kim says almost happily.

  Excited that my girls are a bit more excited for the brownies that one of the boys made, I grab a knife and cut the brownies in large squares, then dish them up on the plates.

  “You think we should save some for the boys?” I ask.

  “No,” they both say bitterly. I smirk.

  Kim hauls over a packet of gummy bears, some M&Ms, a jar of peanut butter, whipped cream, Nutella, sour worms, and all sorts of sweets I had no idea were in this house.

  “Uh?” I frown.

  “They were in that drawer,” she says with a shrug. “Ivy, this good?”

  “So long as it puts me in a coma after this, why the hell not?” Ivy shrugs. “Bring the plates, Raea.”

  Approaching them with caution, I watch in shock as they open everything and start adding all sorts of sugary treats on top of the brownies.

  “Ever heard of diabetes?” I mutter, folding my arms.

  “Ever heard of a broken heart?” Ivy whispers.

  “As a matter of fact, I have, but I didn’t try to kill myself.” They both stare at me, not saying a word. “Well, okay, that was a long time ago and I didn’t do it with sugar!”

  “Whatever does the job, Raea,” Kim mumbles. “Whatever does the job.”

  Before I can say anything else, they’re devouring the brownies, moaning in delight, even doing some kind of happy dance. Before I know it, they’re done with one piece, and serving up more.

  I haven’t even touched mine, just staring at them in shock.

  “Dude, this tastes like crack,” Kim says with a smile on her face.

  “Ugh, it’s so good,” Ivy moans, twisting in her seat like she’s on the dance floor. I frown.

  “Raea, girl, what did you put in these? Shit, they’re amazing, I want the recipe,” Ivy says. “But Jesus, did you turn up the heat? It’s so hot in here.”

  “But you said it was too cold just a few hours ago,” I mutter, confused.

  “Did I see you a few hours ago?” she says with a totally serious face.

  I blink as Ivy takes her sweater off, then snaps her bar off and drops it to the floor carelessly.


  “Oh yes, it is hot in here,” Kim says, standing up now. She takes off her sweatpants. Right. There! In the middle of the freaking kitchen.

  What the hell is going on?

  Ivy grabs the packet of M&Ms. “Oh my gosh, the greens ones are finished,” she moans, her breath catching as if she’s… to my horror, the bitch starts crying.

  “What the fuck?” I frown, staring at them.

  “There are no more green little pills,” she cries, actual tears running down her face.

  “Green little pills? Ivy, babe, you have some in your bowl,” I point out. “What the hell?”

  “Hell doesn’t burn as much as the sun in this house,” Kim says.

  Sun in this house?

  Freaked out, I grab my plate and sniff the brownies. Did the boys put something in these? It smells funny too. Grabbing the house phone to call Ace, my heart starts thundering in my chest.

  This is unusual. What the hell is wrong with these heifers? But before I can dial his number, all the lights in the kitchen go out.

  “Oh, what happened? I’m scared of the dark!” Ivy slurs, starting to freak out within a second of lights out.

  “Shhh, it’s the sun setting to rise again, Ivy baby, webby. Give it a few seconds,” Kim says and my jaw drops.

  Did she just say that?

  “Are you both tripping?” I whisper, shocked to the core.

  “Shit, we just might be but ugh, I’m burning up. Stop burning me, Astraea,” Kim slurs.

  “I’m not burning you, bitch, sit down.”

  “I see ghosts in the dark,” Ivy announces like it’s a conspiracy of some sort. I pause, staring at her in the dark.

  “That’s deep, dude,” Kim sighs. “You know me, I see the devil.”

  “What?”

  “Isn’t it the same?” Ivy says seriously. “Hold my hand, I don’t want to go to hell alone.”

  “Shush it, both of you! You’re high!” I whisper, just as I see a flashlight in the hallway coming on.

  My heart starts racing, Ace and the boys went for a walk just a few minutes ago, who could that be?

  “High? I’m not high, I can fly though,” Ivy whispers.

  “Shh, someone’s in the house,” I whisper, my palms growing sweaty.