Turning Grace (The Turning Series, Book 1)

by J.Q. Davis

  Chapter 1

  The Date

  “Gracie, hurry up! You’re going to be late for school, dear!” I heard my mom yell from downstairs.

  “I’m coming, Mom! Give me a minute!” I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. What was up with the bags under my eyes? And my hair… I briefly thought about dyeing it. My hair was easily my best feature. The long, curly, brown locks hung below my shoulders. I have had people ask me if it was real. Why would I have a wig? I’m seventeen!

  I felt like I needed a change. If only I could change my boob size too. I turned to the side, revealing my small chest. I sucked in a breath of air and puffed my chest out, quickly releasing once I realized how ridiculous I looked.

  “Honey!”

  I took another long look and sighed. I knew that being a teenager was a time of change, but gosh I just wished I would change much faster. I never used to be this crazy about my appearance. I guess the gorgeous senior girls at my high school weren’t too reassuring in my self-confidence.

  Succumbing to the usual teenage problems, I huffed out of the bathroom, grabbed my book bag, and dashed down the stairs to meet Mom for breakfast.

  “Finally,” she murmured under her breath.

  “Mom, why do I wake up every morning with these awful bags under my eyes?” I asked as I sat down at the table. Gosh I was so hungry.

  “Let me see.” She grabbed my face by my chin and looked closely into my eyes. “Gracie, they are fine. Maybe you are just not getting enough sleep.”

  “I guess. But they end up going away later on in the day. It’s been going on for a couple of weeks now. It’s just weird. So what’s for breakfast? Please tell me it’s cereal for a change,” I pouted. My mom was really big on having breakfast in the morning. She always said, since I can remember, that eating breakfast before your day starts is what gets your day started. Although I did agree with this theory, her breakfast was one that could feed a family of five! Scrambled eggs, toast, sausage links, bacon, ham, pigs in a blanket and a large glass of juice. I didn’t think there was anyone else in the world that ate that much for breakfast. But, I always seemed to eat every last bit.

  “Gracie, you know you need more than just cereal in the morning, dear. Remember, eating breakfast before your day starts…”

  “Is what gets your day started,” I finished, with a roll of my eyes.

  “So, I have to be at the funeral home till late tonight. There is some paperwork I have to get done before I go to the convention in Arizona on Halloween weekend. You can have leftovers tonight for dinner. Which reminds me, are you going to be okay while I am gone? I have never left you alone before.”

  “Mom, I will be fine. I am seventeen years old. I think I can take care of myself now,” I mumbled between bites of my pigs in a blanket. “Besides, your absence is going to give me a chance to finally have that huge party I was hoping for with all the drugs, sex, and alcohol. It’s going to be great!” I cheered sarcastically.

  “Gracie! That is not funny! Now finish your breakfast or you will be late. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch. You are going to love what I packed today,” she said with a glow in her eyes as she handed me my brown paper bag.

  “Fine,” I pouted again before I took a bite of my eggs. The truth was that I worried about her having to work out of town. I had never been on my own. We didn’t have many visitors to the house, it was always just my mom and I. Dad left when I was a little girl, for reasons I was not completely sure of. Mom never really explained that to me, and whenever I asked she would just change the subject.

  I was an only child, and to be honest I was okay with that. I had always kept to myself for the most part. I had friends; I was not some loser loner. But, I liked that it was just me and my mom. We had a great relationship.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Ahh, school. As I walked up the main staircase to the entrance of my school, I remembered the first day of my freshman year. On this fateful day, there had been a dreadful thunderstorm. It ended right as I began my walk to school. However, the stairs were still wet and I just so happened to slip and fall in front of the entire school. Accidents happen, but when they do, does your skirt fly up over your head revealing the only clean pair of underwear you had that were, of course, granny panties with a huge hole in them? Well, that was what happened to me. And of course, it would not be complete without a fresh new nickname to follow you throughout the entire course of your high school career. Let’s just say, I always made sure my panties are new and holey-free.

  “Hey, Granny-panty! Watch out for those stairs!” And there it was. How three years had passed and anyone could remember this was beyond me. But of course, Sonny Westwood never forgot a humiliating moment in someone else’s life.

  I glanced over my shoulder and there she was, surrounded by her perfect friends, wearing her perfect clothes, holding hands with the perfect guy who was running his fingers through her perfect, strawberry blonde hair. Yes, she was the most popular of them all. And although it seemed so cliché and we have seen it in a million movies, she was very real at Middleton High. Everyone swooned over Sonny Westwood. Along with all of her perfect physical features and perfect fashion sense, Sonny had a very wealthy and perfect family, perfect grades, and all of the perfect accessories any perfect girl would need. However, one of those perfect accessories should not have been in her possession, and his name was Tristen Miles.

  “Sonny, come on. Are you ever gonna let that go?” I heard him ask as I walked by.

  She giggled. “Well, that’s her name!”

  I turned my head and kept walking towards my locker.

  Tristen Miles was tall, with just the right balance of muscular and slim tone to his body. Don’t get me wrong, I liked “The Rock” muscles, but I would prefer a guy to not seem like he would crush me into pieces during a hug. I found it really attractive when a guy was muscular, but you could only notice it when he moved his arm a certain way.

  He had longer, bed head hair. Wavy and dark. I sort of had a thing for longer hair, instead of a buzz cut. I once saw a movie where Brad Pitt’s hair was as pretty as mine. He lived on a farm and rode on horses all day, but it was hot. After seeing that movie, I couldn’t help but imagine Tristen in a cowboy hat and boots. He wasn’t as preppy as the rest of the clique, though. It seemed that he dressed for comfort most of the time with jeans and a t-shirt. Close enough to a cowboy, I supposed. He was a jock, of course. Played every sport Middleton had to offer. But swimming seemed to be his forte. Speedos…now that was better.

  He and Sonny began dating sophomore year, when he transferred here from Oregon. From what I knew, his mom and dad were doctors and he was an only child, like me. I believed we had some things in common, but I never really understood what common interests he had with Sonny. Apparently, they had been off and on for, well, ever since they started dating. She would dump him, date another guy, then a week later end up with Tristen again. I couldn’t comprehend why he would even put up with her. I mean, didn’t she even understand how amazing he…

  “Grace, did you hear anything I just said?”

  I came back down to earth. “Oh, sorry, Phoebe. Yes, I did.”

  No, I didn’t.

  “Are you fantasizing about him again? G, I don’t think this is healthy. Your brain, like, completely goes into fart mode when you’re in a thirty foot radius of him. Seriously, I think you may need to lay him down…”

  “Phoebe! What are you about to say?” I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

  “Um… lay him down to rest, Dirty Bird,” she snapped as she grabbed her books from her locker two doors down from mine. “Geez, someone’s mind is in the gutter this morning. Look, he and Sonny are never going to end. So, G, you really should just move on.”

  She was right. I didn’t ever have a chance. He thought I was a big joke, and he would never leave Sonny. I hated it when Phoebe was right. I shook the thoughts of Tristen for now.

  “Okay, you’re right.
So, what were you saying?” Phoebe continued to tell me about the sexy guy she worked with at the mall while we waited outside of homeroom for the bell to ring. I envied this about her. Phoebe Morgan was not wildly popular, but very social. She was definitely the social butterfly of the school. She made it a point to be friends with everyone. Never hung out with just one group of people. You could catch her floating around during lunch hour, making her way down through the variety of crowds scattered throughout the courtyard. The preps, the jocks, the geeks, the highs (the constantly stoned kids). We were the closest, though. She lived a block down from my house, and we had been friends since we were in the third grade. We went to elementary, middle, and now high school together. Phoebe was the kind of girl that many other girls secretly envied, and guys liked to hang out with. I was the only really close girlfriend she had. Although I secretly envied her as well, I still thought highly of her. She was just so charismatic and really didn’t care what anyone thought of her.

  I watched her thin, petite body animate every detail of her new eye candy, as her big green eyes expressed her emotions. She wasn’t drop dead gorgeous or model material, but her personality definitely put her in that category.

  She tied her long, wavy black hair up in a ponytail and proceeded to detail every bit of this new guy in her life. I was still thinking about Tristen.

  The third period bell rang when I realized how starving I was. Good, just one more hour before lunch. As I opened my locker to switch out my books for calculus next period, I wondered what Mom packed for me today. Breakfast was huge, but lunch was not much smaller. Normally, Mom would pack a sandwich, most of the time two, roast beef and ham, on a croissant with pickles, lettuce, homemade ketchup (yes, homemade ketchup!), onions, and mustard, a thermos of her famous pomegranate juice, chips, and a banana. There was not much that I enjoyed doing more than eating. All of my memories revolved around food. Mom was always cooking. She always made sure she had breakfast, lunch, and dinner for me every day. I realized that I was getting older, and that I should be able to cook for myself. But let’s be honest, what teenager didn’t like to be spoiled with food? She definitely spoiled me when it came to that. She encouraged me to try the different recipes she would conjure up in her head that week. And they always seemed to be delicious. I often wondered why she chose to be in the medical field and not a chef.

  As I closed my locker door, a figure standing behind it almost made me pee my pants.

  I grabbed my chest. “Oh, gosh you scared me!” My brain hadn’t yet registered it was Tristen until I heard his deep, intoxicating voice.

  “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have been a creep hiding behind your locker door,” he laughed.

  Oh.My.God. Between my heart racing from being startled and having Tristen speaking to me, I thought I might just pass out. “No, its fine. So… what is up?” Just play it off, Grace.

  “Are you going to calculus right now?” he asked, resting against the locker.

  “Yeah,” I said in a whisper. I could feel my armpits beginning to sweat. I was praying it wouldn’t show.

  “I am sort of not doing well in that subject. Math was never my favorite.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I breathed out, followed by a ridiculously loud giggle. Geez, I knew I sounded like an idiot. I wasn’t sure if I had asked a question or made a statement.

  “So, in order for me to stay on the swim team, I really need to bring up my grade,” he admitted with a shameful look. “I was wondering if maybe you could tutor me. I am usually free on Thursdays, if that’s okay with you?”

  Was he asking me what I thought he was asking me? I was pretty sure my mouth was wide open. What should I say? I mean, Tristen, the most attractive, sexy, gorgeous guy in school was asking me to tutor him. Was I sweating? I felt kind of numb. Why else would I go to Tristen’s house after school to help him study? Or would he be coming to my house? Oh my gosh, I really needed to clean my room! Wait! Would he come into my bedroom? Well, that would be a little slutty of me. I wouldn’t let him come into my bedroom on our first date! Ha! This wouldn’t be a date, would it? Oh God, I could smell the sweat under my arms…

  “Um, Grace?” He looked confused.

  My vision finally came back and I could see the confused expression he was giving me. “Oh, sorry, so you need help? Yeah I can…”

  “Tristen! I was waiting for you by my locker! What are you doing… with Granny-panty?” And there she was, perfect Sonny Westwood. She stomped her way in between us, throwing her arm around his neck. I flinched when she tossed her perfect hair into my face. “Can we go? We are gonna be late.”

  “Yeah, I was just asking Grace for some help with calculus.” I looked down at my feet when she turned to look at me.

  “Why? Sweetie, I don’t think she knows enough about calculus to help you. I mean, is she even smart?” she asked, and turned to give an awful duck face.

  “Well, she does have an A in the class, and she loves math,” he smiled and glanced over to me. I did love math. How did he know that?

  “Yeah, I do love math,” I whispered under my breath.

  “What? Did you say something, Granny?” she asked.

  “Yeah, she said she loves math. Come on. I have to get to class.” His patience with her seemed to have run out. “Grace, will you meet me here on Thursday after school?”

  Okay, I was assuming he wanted an answer that second.

  “Um, yeah…yes. Thursday. Sounds good,” I said, heart still racing. Sonny whipped her head back around to Tristen, this time leaving me with the taste of shampoo in my mouth. I quickly tried to get it out. I couldn’t see her face, but I was assuming it was not pleasant. She was cursing him with her eyes, and I was almost positive she was cursing me in her head. He grabbed her hand and they walked away.

  Thursday. Wait what was today? Okay, Tuesday. Tuesday?

  I stood at my locker, trying to understand what just happened. In the two years that he had been here, we had never really spoken. Once, we bumped into each other in the breezeway outside. He turned to me and said, “Oh, sorry.” I nodded and just kept on my way. Then, last year, he asked me what pages of Catcher in the Rye we were supposed to read for homework in English class. I mumbled chapters six and seven before burying my head in my book. But other than that, we never really spoke. Sonny snatched him before anyone could even have a chance. Since then, he had been with her nonstop. What was it about her? I understood she was attractive, wealthy, and… well, that was pretty much it. She was not a nice person. And although she did have great grades, I refused to believe it was due to her hard work. Her parents probably paid the school off. And to be honest, not being smart should bring down the attractive level a notch. But, I shouldn’t judge. Maybe underneath all of that makeup, blonde hair, Mark Jacobs clothing, and powerful-because-my-parents-are-wealthy-and-successful exterior, she was a decent and sensitive person. Or not.

  Calculus could not have taken any longer. As I sat in class, listening to Mrs. Turner explain the derivative of parametric equations, I watched Tristen two rows over, three desks in front of me struggling to understand what she was saying. He really seemed to need help. I fantasized about what Thursday was going to be like. Maybe his parents would be working, so we would be alone. Where would we be studying? His living room? His dining room? His bedroom? What does his bedroom look like? Does he have pictures of Sonny everywhere? Were we only going to talk about calculus?

  I realized that this could be the first time that I was going to be completely alone with a guy that I was truly crushing on. Don’t get me wrong, I had been on a date or two. I wasn’t completely deprived of boy-girl contact. I had a boyfriend in ninth grade. During freshmen year, there was a guy named Josh who was very cute and funny. We started dating, and then we broke up like two weeks later. It was completely PG-13. We only kissed on the lips once. So, I never actually really kissed someone before. My mom would say that making out with boys was not lady-like. She would say that sticking a t
ongue down a boy’s throat was vulgar and kisses should be polite and sweet.

  I got what she was saying. Whenever I would see make out scenes in movies or Phoebe making out with one of her boy toys, it kind of grossed me out. It seemed sloppy and like it would be awkward. I was curious to know how Tristen kissed though. I wondered if he was gentle. He was different than all of the other horny jocks that ran around school trying to be with every cute girl they saw. When he hung out with Sonny and the clique, you could tell being popular wasn’t his life. He didn’t strive to be part of the clique like everyone else did. Sonny’s Minions and all of the other wannabes tried desperately to be a part of the popular crowd. But not Tristen. He had a presence about him that seemed humbling, down-to-earth. It was nice. I knew I ran the risk of getting to know him, and him being the complete opposite of my expectations. Let’s face it, he was dating Perfect Sonny, he was popular, and he was a jock. They couldn’t all be that bad though, right?