Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace)

by K Anne Raines

  Quentin stayed silent. He just held her gaze.

  “This is all a joke, right? Where are the cameras? Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out from a bush and this little episode right here is going to be on Punk’d, right?”

  “Grace, I’m sorry.” He laid a hand gently on her knee. “I told you it was going to sound crazy.” Geez, she thought. Crazy wasn’t the half of it.

  Unable to sit still any longer, Grace shot to her feet. “I don’t think we should talk any more. In fact, you should probably go. I’m tired and feeling a little overloaded, and I might do something crazy myself and call someone to come and pick you up and put you in a straitjacket. And I really don’t want to do that.” Not sure what she was feeling more—anger, confusion, sadness, or worry—she did her best to remain strong as he got up.

  “It’s going to be okay, Grace. I promise.” He turned away, and just like that, he was gone.

  Watching him leave left another empty hole in her chest. The hole was dark and painful, making it difficult for her to breathe. She wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed. Forget about everything he’d said and just sleep. And if she was really lucky, maybe even dream of faraway places without jars and Chosen and lying grandfathers and uncaring mothers.

  If only.

  When Grace woke the next morning, she was disappointed. Neverland never appeared. Come to think of it, she hadn’t dreamt at all. Her night’s sleep was just a huge black hole of nothingness. All she wanted was one simple happy thought to counter her sour mood and get her through the day. But she couldn’t even get that.

  Frustrated, she threw her blankets back and stomped to the bathroom to get ready for school. Showering, primping, and dressing did nothing to lighten her mood. If anything, the mindless chore of getting ready gave her too much freed-up brain time. The additional time moved her from frustrated to plain ticked off.

  Grace grabbed her school bag and a light jacket and stomped even louder to the kitchen. After her reaction the last time, it was no surprise to see Laney wasn’t making pancakes this morning.

  “Good morning,” Laney said.

  “Morning,” she grumbled back.

  Laney raised her brows as she sipped her coffee. Setting the cup on the counter, Laney turned back around and pinned Grace with a questioning stare. “You okay? Did something happen after we talked last night?”

  Yes, something happened last night, she screamed silently. Everything happened last night and she wasn’t about to play a pretend game of mother-daughter with Laney. Not today. But she couldn’t say that to her. Heck, she was still floored she’d actually yelled at her mother the other night. And at Quentin. Oh yeah … and the lawyer. What the hell was going on with her? She wasn’t this emotionally distraught girl.

  “No, nothing happened,” she lied. “Why do you ask?”

  Laney’s gaze remained fixed on her for a couple of seconds before she dropped it to her hands. “Oh, I don’t know. You seem a little irritated. Like maybe something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it? You can talk to me.”

  Like hell she could. “I’m fine.” Grace opened the refrigerator, pretending to scrounge for breakfast.

  “I was going to make myself some toast with strawberry jam. I can make you a piece or two if you want,” her mother offered.

  Grace thought it would be better to play nice despite the fact she didn’t want to play Laney’s game. She muttered a “Yeah, thanks” and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island. Grace watched her mother spread butter and jam on her toast, and continued to watch her even after she placed it in front of her. Laney was easily within arm’s length, tempting Grace to reach out and touch her to see why she was really being nice. But like always, fear made her keep her hands to herself.

  “You want some juice or milk?” Laney asked, pulling Grace’s gaze from her arm, back to her face.

  “I can get it.”

  “I know you can. What do you want?”

  More than something to drink, she thought. “Juice is fine.” What she really wanted to say was, “What exactly is it you want, Mom?” But she chewed the words over with her toast and concentrated on getting through breakfast.

  On the way to school, Grace was stricken with a sudden craving for coffee. Latté Da’s wasn’t that far from school, and luckily not busy. It was so empty that she was the only one in line. Patiently, she stood in front of the register, waiting to be noticed by someone. Apparently, they all went on a simultaneous coffee break. Either that, or they were just being rude. Waiting to catch one of the baristas’ attention, she glanced at her watch as they continued to chat about the new JB song. Class was going to start in twenty minutes. She couldn’t stand there unnoticed for too much longer. Irritated, she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Excuse me,” a male voice said from behind her. Curious, she twisted on her heel, and glanced over her shoulder. “Hi,” Darius said with that magnificent boyish grin.

  Instantly, her stomach jumped and tumbled nervously. Her stomach wasn’t the only thing jumping. As soon as one of the little baristas saw him, she jumped in a single leap to the counter. And of course, only acknowledged him. “How can I help you?” she asked, her mascara-caked lashes flapping.

  Darius’ head dipped toward Grace. “She was first.” The edges of the girl’s eyes and mouth pulled down as she scowled at Grace. Like she’d done something wrong.

  Not entirely able to stop the hint of triumph that tugged on the corners of her mouth, she spoke around it. “I’ll have a sixteen-ounce Snickers with soy. Two straws.” She purposely left off the “please.”

  Darius stepped up next to her. “And I’ll have a sixteen-ounce coffee, black. I’ll pay for them both.”

  Grace’s gaze lifted to his. The fact she had to lift it at all was a huge plus. “You don’t have to pay for my coffee.”

  He smiled as he stared back down at her. “I insist.”

  A familiar warmth rushed up her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze to the counter. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Anytime had her pondering other times. She sighed. This guy was trouble.

  When her coffee was done, the hateful little barista simply put it on the counter, and diligently went to work on the black coffee. Yeah, that’s tough, she thought. Before Grace got completely out the door, Darius said, “Try to have a good day.” She smiled back; her day was definitely looking brighter.

  The brighter day didn’t last long. The crappy mood followed her to school, to the parking lot at least. Grace parked the Shelby in its usual spot, close to the lot exit. If she’d learned anything from her three years at Woods Cross High, it was that it’s always easier and faster to get out of the parking lot from here.

  The tension in her shoulders relaxed a little when she noticed Emily and Tommy waiting for her by the school’s front doors. Like usual, Emily looked ready for the runway. Tommy was her complete opposite. Everything about him appeared sloppy. His sandy hair looked like he just rolled out of bed. His shirt was partially tucked, and his surfer shorts hung loosely from his hips. If she didn’t know for a fact they were a couple, Grace wouldn’t believe they were together.

  “Hey, babe!” Emily yelled, her black hair swaying in rhythm with her waving hand.

  “Hi,” Grace replied.

  Emily’s brown eyes curved with concern as she gave her a thoughtful look, her head tilted slightly to the side. “That bad, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You look like you could use a coffee.” Then Emily spied the cup in her hand. “Guess not.”

  “I could use something a little stiffer,” Grace said with a slight chortle.

  “Well,” Emily began. “We could cut all day and park at the airport for some morning and afternoon delights.”

  Today was the first day she’d woken up without feeling a distracting sadness. Unfortunately, what she felt was extreme irritation, almost anger. And oddly enough, the days when she was upset were the days she was able to focus and get
the most done. So, cutting class wasn’t her best choice today.

  “Thanks, Em, but I need to get to class.”

  “You sure?” Emily asked.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Grace entered first period with her head down until she got to her seat. Everyone knew who her grandfather was. And almost every single one of them felt obligated to say something nice about him, which always ended with “sorry.” She didn’t want to talk about her grandfather today, or hear any more apologies for her loss. Come to think of it, she hadn’t really been in any kind of mood to talk at all since her grandfather died. Except with Quentin. Talking with him was so easy. She was going to miss that. Don’t go there, Grace, she hissed in her head.

  As more students made their way to their seats, Grace eased back into the hard seat. Everyone seemed to have received the body language memo to leave her alone, and she could sulk in silence.

  “Hey, Grace.” Most everyone, she mentally recanted.

  “Hey,” she said, as Amanda sat at the desk across from her.

  Amanda looked like one of those models with a unique look about them. Many times Grace had stared at her, taking in the sharp-angled features of her face and trying to decide if she was beautiful or not. Her big blue eyes were definitely amazing. Amanda was also the only one of her friends that equaled her height, but unlike Grace, she wasn’t tall until high school.

  Grace and Amanda had been friends since elementary school. She should have known Amanda would ignore the signs. Amanda had always shamelessly ignored boundaries. In fact, she seemed to thrive on pushing them to prove she could when told she couldn’t. Daddy issues, they called it. Teachers, doctors, husbands, next-door neighbors … who they were didn’t matter, as long as they were male. Nor did their age.

  Amanda was downright scandalous. In the ninth grade, she “accidentally” texted a not-so-fully-clothed photo of herself to most of the male students at Woods Cross High. Even to the ones with girlfriends. She’d said it was an accident, but none of the girlfriends had bought it. Amanda became the most loved and hated girl in a single day. For a long time, she had to watch her back. The lynch mob had since then dispersed; however, Amanda hadn’t made much headway with the female friendlies. She still only had a couple of friends.

  Grace knew she’d brought it on herself, but she felt bad for her anyway. She understood how having a dad walk out on you could mess you up a little in the head. Others? Not so much. And to Grace, the dad excuse was the only one that explained Amanda’s behavior.

  Amanda leaned toward her and lowered her voice. “Are you going to Brian’s party in a couple of weeks?”

  “Didn’t know Brian was throwing a party,” Grace said, half interested.

  “Huh, who woulda thunk I’d get the 411 on a party before you? You always know the details before I do,” Amanda said. “Apparently Brian’s brother is coming home for a week while their parents go on vacation, so they’re throwing a big par-tay. I heard some of his college friends are even going to make it.” Like she needs that, Grace thought, rolling her eyes mentally.

  “Yeah, I’ll go if Em’s going. I’m sure Leah’s already going since it’s at Brian’s.”

  “Like she’d miss it,” Amanda scoffed, fingering an obviously new piece of jewelry hanging from her wrist. Grace didn’t even want to know where that came from. “Besides, she already told me she was. How do you think I found out about it?” Girl, Grace thought, you really don’t want me to answer that.

  The bell rang seconds later and the loud chatter of students quieted as soon as Miss Township entered the room.

  “Welcome back,” Miss Township said in an attempt at teacher humor. They all had been there the day before. “I hope you all read the reading last night, chapters one and two of The Crucible.”

  Miss Township glanced around the room, daring anyone to confess they hadn’t. Grace kept her eyes and hand down, which was a new one for her. She never forgot to do her homework. Ironically, Miss Township seemed ready for her own witch hunt.

  The rest of the period went by without incident, and as soon as the bell rang, students were out of their seats making their way for the exit.

  “Make sure you read chapter three tonight,” Miss Township said, raising her voice to be heard over the rumble of shuffling feet and excited voices.

  Grace made a note of her American Lit homework on her iPhone and grabbed her Chemistry book from her locker. Five more classes and she could move on to something else that might be a little better at keeping her mind off last night.

  Funny, lately her life moved from one emotional assault to another. What Quentin had said was a lie. Not just a simple lie, but an I-need-to-be-locked-in-a-padded-room crazy kind of lie. No matter, she already missed him. She didn’t know what that made her. Crazy herself, or an enabler? She looked down at her phone. A part of her tried to convince herself to text him, while the other part held her hand still. Classic telltale signs of being hung over with regret. Slamming her locker shut, she put her phone in her pocket and trotted to class.

  She half expected Zeke to be sitting at her seat waiting for her, and was relieved to see he wasn’t when she got to Keyboarding. He wasn’t even sitting in his own seat. Putting her backpack under her desk, she logged in to the computer to start working on today’s lesson, plus yesterday’s since she didn’t get any of it done.

  “Hey, beautiful,” a familiar voice said. “Miss me?”

  Grace swiveled in her seat to find Zeke standing behind her chair—backpack slung over one shoulder, baseball cap on backward, wearing faded jeans and a sky-blue T-shirt. Zeke’s blond hair and blue shirt made the blue of his eyes appear to glow. He was cute, but compared to Quentin or Darius? As soon as she thought his name, the butterflies fluttered wildly in the center of her tummy. Wow! Surprised by how giddy the mere thought of Darius made her, her cheeks began to warm. She quickly turned back to her screen.

  Zeke sat on the edge of her desk, arms folded, looking down at her. “How’d your meeting go?”

  Grace brought her face up to him, knowing the crimson glow faded. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

  “Good. That’s good, right?” he asked encouragingly.

  “Yeah, it’s good,” she said, unconvincingly even to her own ears.

  “Does that mean you’re ready for that coffee then?”

  The contrasting look of cool and hopeful in his eyes as he waited for her to say yes pulled at her heartstrings.

  “Actually, Zeke, I have tons of homework to do already tonight.” Not entirely true, but sort of. She did have some to do.

  “Ouch.” He gripped his chest dramatically. “Shot down again.”

  “It’s not like that,” she protested.

  “Yes it is.”

  “It’s not!”

  “It’s alright, Grace, really. I’m a big boy. I can take it.” Eyes focused on his feet, he started for his seat.

  Inside, her resolve splintered. She was a horrible person for hurting his feelings. Grace searched for something to say that would make the situation better. Make herself feel better was more like it. Her regret container was filled to the brim at the moment and couldn’t hold any more. Soon it would start spilling over, and that wouldn’t be pretty for anybody involved. “I said not tonight, I didn’t say I wasn’t ever. What about Friday?”

  A light twinkled in the depths of his blue eyes at her suggestion. “Hey, don’t do me any favors,” he said with a wave of his hand. His smirk told her he was giving her a hard time.

  “I’m not. Besides, it’s just coffee.” She didn’t know why she threw that qualifier in there, but it felt right to say it. “It’d be fun to have a group of us meet at Latté Da’s.”

  Disappointment tugged his face down. “So, a group thing then? Yeah, that’d be fun. I can pick you up, or meet you there.”

  Meeting him there would be best. She simply wasn’t interested in him like that and didn’t want to give him the wrong idea again. “I can mee
t you there.”

  “Sounds good.” Zeke shuffled a few more feet toward his seat before turning back to Grace. “Now get to work, Miss Morgan. I noticed you didn’t get much done yesterday.” He smirked and winked and continued walking. Because his smile was so infectious, she smiled at his back.

  Grace completed both lessons and had ten minutes to spare before the end of class. Ready for the bell to ring, she leaned her head against the back of the chair, and tried to visualize pictures in the holes of the ceiling tile. All she could visualize were eyes, which only reminded her of Darius. Swiveling slightly from side to side, she wondered where he was, if that redhead was with him and, more importantly, if he ever thought about her too. Probably not, she admitted to herself.

  Bothered by the thought, she bent over for her backpack when the bell rang and left class. A lingering mental image of Darius’ emerald eyes watching her had her heart picking up its pace as she made her way through the droves of students in the hallway. Beneath her backpack strap, her fingers crossed as she hoped he’d be at Latté Da’s again on Friday.

  Quentin found himself parked outside Woods Cross High School on stakeout. Everything about this assignment was different. Sure, none of the other Chosen were female; it wasn’t that. The seneschal band, the bond, what he sensed, all of it was heightened and he wasn’t sure why. He pulled up the left sleeve of his shirt, and gazed down at the band marking him. It had finished changing in the night, which meant Grace was fully Chosen when she woke up this morning. He was out of time to prepare her, and she’d run out of time to come to terms with her new life. The acceleration confused him. She wasn’t eighteen, so this wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not yet.