I cringed. She wasn’t wrong and, honestly, I wasn’t exactly stupid enough to think she wouldn’t notice. Still, I didn’t see this conversation coming, or at least not like this. I’d been running off to see Rudy more often than not. When he wasn’t available, I’d just been running. I was still trying to beat him on the track, and I’d almost done it twice now. The pit-stop kisses didn’t count against me, as far as I was concerned, because he was stuck in place for as long as I was. I hadn’t even given a thought to Julianne’s plans.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been really distracted.”
“Doing what? That’s the part that I don’t get, Kennedy. We tell each other everything and you’ve been so secretive! You know I can’t stand it when you guys hide things from me, it makes me crazy. If you could just tell me what’s going on, I might even be able to help you. So what is it? Did one of your parents die?”
God, I hope not, I thought. Would the other one even remember to call me to tell me? I hadn’t spoken to them at all since they’d left. I thought they preferred it that way and after some of the things Dad had said the last time they were home, I thought I probably preferred it that way too.
“Nobody died,” I said, sweeping the paranoia away. “But my parents aren’t taking care of this house or helping me map out my future. I feel like my deadline is creeping up on me to figure out how to be an adult, and I still don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m going to do. I’m just sort of scrambling to prepare and shopping trips give me anxiety because I’ve been looking at the cost of rent versus entry-level wages and, holy shit, unless I work for my Dad, I am completely and utterly screwed.”
“So work for your dad,” she said. “It’s that easy.”
It wasn’t that easy, but I didn’t know how to explain that to her. I’d known for a long time that my parents hadn’t quite realized what parenthood meant, or how long eighteen years really was, and I was tired of feeling like I was intruding on their perfect little life. Sponging off of them for a job would be admitting defeat and would be miserable for all three of us.
“I want options,” I said instead.
“Okay, so right now you have two options. Come out with me and the girls and have a good time, or stay there and pretend to be the homeowner while big sweaty men dig up your whole yard. What do you want to do, Kennedy?”
“I want to get the backyard finished before my parents get back,” I said stubbornly. “You’re all welcome to come over here.”
“No thanks. I’ve seen enough sweat to last me a lifetime. And it’s y’all are, California girl.”
I stared at the red “call ended” until the screen begrudgingly slid back to the home display. Her parting shot stung—not because I particularly minded being the newcomer in town, but because she’d made a huge point of telling me how outsiders were picked on when I’d first arrived, and had spent a great deal of energy trying to make me feel like a native Texan—without ever quite letting me forget that I wasn’t one.
I scowled and tossed the phone on the counter. Screw her. I wasn’t about to just sit there and let her make me feel like shit over nothing at all, especially when I had bigger problems to worry about. Like auto shop on Monday, when I’d have to face Chris without the girls or Rudy around to rescue me. I wasn’t really counting on Bradley being the rescuing type—he seemed more like the kind who would drink from the skulls of his enemies—so I’d be facing that dark rage alone.
I shuddered at the memory of Chris’ fury glaring at me from beneath the trees. He looked like he was really ready to murder me, flat out. It was a look which would have confirmed the truth of all of Julianne’s lies for me only a few months ago. Still—Rudy didn’t like to talk about his brothers much. Maybe there was some truth to what she said after all.
The doorbell rang, distracting me, and I was too busy to think about the Seymores for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon.
By three o’clock, my backyard had transformed into a mystical oasis, complete with waterfalls and desert roses. The lightings had been installed too, and though the sun hadn’t yet fallen into the abyss, my imagination was alive, already seeing the magnificence that would illuminate the garden at night-time.
The trees that had been planted wouldn’t be impressive for another year or two, but as I watched their roots plummet deep into the ground, I felt a sense of accomplishment.
Even if I died that very day, I’d accomplished at least one thing in this world that would outlive me. The only question was, what the hell would my parents think when they finally stepped foot back on home soil. Maybe they’d be impressed. A part of me thought so. But there was also that other part that knew there was a very strong likelihood that they’d see this as disobedience too. Like I’d only done it to piss them off.
I pushed two fingers to my temples and sighed. Focusing on the good things was possible and exactly what I should be doing right now. Between Julianne, Chris and Rudy, my parents and my future, the worries could be high, but none of them were here now which meant I didn’t have to focus on all the things that could go wrong.
I pointed my head and my focus forward and stared at the garden. This was a good thing.
This was peace.
This was Zen.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’d never dreaded a Monday more. Playing around in my new garden had allowed me to forget the trouble waiting for me at school for a couple of days, but now there was no avoiding it. The smart thing to do would have been to dress on par with Julianne’s aesthetic and try to blend into the background, avoiding her wrath and Chris’ all at once, but I wasn’t always smart.
My go-to armor had always been bright colors and alternative trends. It embarrassed my doting mother just enough to keep her from commenting on my appearance in public while drawing compliments from young kids and old ladies, making me feel delightfully seen and securely invisible all at once. Julianne had always been more outspoken about it than Mom, but even the subtle defiance and benign conflict seemed to strengthen all of my resolve.
All of that meant that I showed up to my judgment day at Starline high wearing bright purple skinny jeans and a bubblegum pink shirt bedazzled with a sparkling rainbow-colored sun wearing sequin sunglasses. The fun kind of sequins that change color when you rub your fingers over them—which wasn’t the best idea on this particular shirt since the sunglasses stretched directly over my bra, but maybe that was the point? Either way, I rocked the look—or I felt like I did, which was just as good.
Julianne had other feelings about my attire. Her brows flew up as soon as she saw me. “More thrift store finds?” She slid her sunglasses down her nose to gawk at my shirt, then put them back in place.
“Just the pants,” I said brightly. “I bought the shirt online.”
She and Macy exchanged a look which was mostly expressed with twisted lips and twitching eyebrows, since their eyes were hidden behind matching sunglasses.
I wondered suddenly if Macy owned anything at all that Julianne hadn’t picked out for her. She was definitely the most compliant to Julianne’s wants and needs – more because of her own insecurities than anything else. Even though I was the one being picked on at this very moment, I still had the headspace to pity her.
Joan was watching me with that mix of horror and awe which I’d come to expect from her. She was afraid of Julianne. One of those girls who complied because she didn’t want think about or deal with the consequences. A bit like me, I thought, then pushed the thought to the far back of my mind. After all, I was rebelling with my bright colors and odd shirt while Joan was still walking in line.
Rudy and his brothers passed us, and I caught Rudy looking back at me with an appreciative grin. Fortunately, the rest of the girls had their backs to him and didn’t see, but Chris, who was walking beside him, jabbed him hard in the ribs. He growled something at him through gritted teeth and Rudy shrugged him off, stalking angrily into the school.
“Earth to
Kennedy,” Macy said, snapping her fingers languidly.
I shook myself. “Sorry, what?”
“I said, you should invite us all over this afternoon so we can see this garden you stood us up for,” Julianne repeated.
Macy smirked smugly and Joan looked nervous. It occurred to me then that they probably all thought I’d made up a story as an excuse and wanted to catch me red-handed. My suspicion was confirmed by the surprised frown on Macy’s face when I nodded eagerly.
“Absolutely! Right after school today.”
“Tomorrow would be better,” Macy said blandly.
I shook my head. “Can’t do it tomorrow. I’m rebuilding an engine in auto shop and I’m behind. I got permission to come in after school tomorrow and work on it until I figure out where I went wrong. He’s real big on learning as you go, which is fine and all, but it takes a lot longer that way.”
Julianne wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Definitely not tomorrow, then. Macy, what’s wrong with today?”
We were walking and talking now as the bell was about to ring.
Macy shrugged. “Daddy was going to cook a special dinner tonight since my Mom just got an award at work. Highest grossing regional manager or some crap, I don’t know. But he’s making surf ‘n’ turf platters, which he only does about twice a year because he’s a perfectionist and it takes him all day to do—mostly because the lobsters outsmart him more often than not and he has to keep rounding them back up until the water’s hot enough to paralyze them.”
Joan shuddered. “That’s awful.”
“It is,” Macy agreed. “Who wants to admit to getting outsmarted by sea bugs? I think he likes it, though. He calls it a little adventure and will tell you dozens of stories about super-intelligent lobsters for days if you let him.”
It was the first time I’d ever seen Macy really open up about anything. There was a shocking sort of tenderness around her eyes which faded away as soon as I noticed it, replaced by her signature boredom.
“That sounds really special,” I said. “You should do that instead. My garden will still be there on Wednesday.”
Macy snorted. “Nope. I don’t leave my friends in the lurch, unlike some people.”
And just like that, all the sympathetic feelings I’d had for her disappeared.
As usual, Rudy and I spent the morning ignoring one another, keeping an eye out for opportunities to disappear together, but none ever presented themselves. The girls were stuck to me like glue and Chris would literally herd Rudy away from me if he was anywhere nearby.
I would have to find some way to let him know that I wouldn’t be under the bridge that afternoon—or the next. Damn. With the weekend, that was a four day stretch—the longest it had been since we’d started seeing each other.
I wasn’t pleased about it, especially since we didn’t really have the foundation of understanding that we might have had if we were seeing each other out in the open.
Four days was nothing in the grand scheme of things—but if he doubted my loyalty, it could easily be misinterpreted as me subtly ghosting him.
I scribbled a note just before lunch and tucked it into the tiny pocket of my jeans. I’d find a way to get close enough to pass it to him. That was my plan, anyway. Chris, however, had other ideas.
The cafeteria was serving spaghetti again—it’s like they don’t even think about the mess factor of food projectiles when they plan these menus, I swear—and I was carrying my heavy tray to the table, half a step behind Joan, when Chris stepped out in front of me suddenly and slapped my tray into my face.
My immediate problem was the sauce in my eyes, but the twenty ounces of soda quickly spreading around my feet rapidly became the more pressing dilemma. I’d worn slick-soled high-top sneakers to match the skinny jeans and they barely had traction on dry linoleum. I nearly did the splits before I cleared my eyes enough to look up into Chris’ fierce glare. As pissed as he was, he still looked like a cute little kid. I thought about pointing that out, but self-preservation slapped its hand over my mouth at the last second.
“Listen up you little slut,” Chris growled. “You better stay away from Rudy if you know what’s good for you.”
Julianne, Joan, and Macy stared in shock. Not at him, for making a mess of my lunch, but at me.
I shook my head, frowning in feigned confusion, using it as an excuse to glance at the Seymore table. Gary was the only other one there at that moment, and he was giving me a hard, cruel glare.
I wondered if Chris would have been so bold if Rudy had been sitting there. I kinda doubted it.
“Don’t give me that stupid look,” Chris said, taking half a step toward me. I stepped back without thinking and my heel skidded in the soda. I barely caught myself on the bench. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t know what you think you’re trying to do, but leave him the hell out of it. Get it?”
“Sure,” I said in a patronizingly placating tone. “I’ll stay away from your brother.”
I never said which brother I would stay away from, though, I thought triumphantly. The shocked, accusatory looks on the girls’ faces had fallen away. They bought it even if Chris hadn’t, which was as good as I could have hoped for.
As Chris stalked away, Joan jumped up and hurried to get a handful of paper towels. Macy went to the janitor and requested his services with the mop with a snap of her fingers. He trudged along behind her, clearly too beaten down to be offended at the treatment.
“Blech, why is it always spaghetti? I’ll get you a new lunch. What got into him, anyway? They usually pick on us as a group.”
“Right? So fucking weird,” I said absently as I struggled to stand up straight. My feet slid out from under me again and I landed hard on my hip.
The soda was beginning to dry and tugged on my clothes as I pushed myself away from the floor. Julianne, wrinkling her nose at the inevitable stickiness of the gesture, came around the table to help me. I did my best not to mar her outfit, but in the end, she had to give me a bear hug to get me up off the floor.
By the time Joan got back with a wad of paper towels for me, she had to run back to get another handful for Julianne.
“Sorry,” I said ruefully, looking at the red-orange stains on Julianne’s pristine white shirt.
She shrugged it off. “It’s not even a problem,” she told me. “As long as you aren’t hurt. You went down pretty hard.”
It was the most sincerely nice thing she’d said to me in weeks and it caught me by surprise. I smiled at her, wondering if all she really needed in order to be nice was for someone else to be meaner than she was. Or for someone to be in more pain – emotional or otherwise – than she was.
Once the mess was cleaned up, I glanced at the big clock on the wall.
“I’m skipping food,” I said. “I’m going to hit up lost and found and take a shower.”
Neither Julianne nor the other girls had a problem with that. I skipped away, leaving them to their own devices as I went on the hunt for something to wear.
Lost and found usually had all kinds of misplaced clothes. Julianne kept spare clothes in her locker and in her car in the event of incidents like this, but that was because she wouldn’t be caught dead in anything that wasn’t tailored especially for her. Me, I liked the adventure. I’d discovered bell bottoms in a lost and found. I hadn’t kept those, but it had started my hunt and subsequent fascination with thrift stores.
It occurred to me that I hadn’t actually shopped at a thrift store for two years or more. For some reason that realization hit me harder than the lack of singing.
Had I let myself be changed so much by this little town? On the surface, yes. But deep down, I was still the same me, wasn’t I? Just too busy and too overwhelmed to take on the things I enjoyed. It didn’t matter. As soon as life was back to normal, I was sure I’d find myself again.
While I was stripping out of my sticky clothes to get into the shower, I remembered the note I’d stuck in my pocket. I dug my fingers i
nto the space, searching for the paper, but coming up short.
I tried again.
And again.
I turned the pockets inside out. They were empty. Panicking, I shoved my fingers into the shallow pockets once more, searching every crevice. The note was all the way gone.
“So I’ll just write him another one,” I told my speeding heart. “What’s the problem?”
The problem was, I’d signed it like an idiot and written his name on the top like an even bigger idiot.
If anybody found that note, I’d be caught red-handed. There was no way in heaven or hell I’d be able to deny a damn thing.
But notes are dropped all over the school all the time, I reasoned. They were swept into big piles and thrown away. My note to Rudy would just be one of many, nothing but pulp in the dumpster.
Still, there was some instinct screaming in the back of my mind, making me jumpy. I squeaked a startled scream when someone called my name in the bathroom as I was stepping back out of the shower.
“Chill, Kennedy, it’s just me,” Macy said. “I brought you some real clothes so you wouldn’t have to wear somebody’s sweaty castoffs.”
“Thanks,” I said cautiously, reaching over the stall door to accept the clothes. I expected them to be an awful color or style, or something, but they were cute and comfortable and fit me well. “Do you keep spare clothes at school too?”
“Sometimes. These were on their way to the discount boutique, though. I like the style, but I’ve had them for two years and I need the closet space.”
I translated that to, Julianne doesn’t like them, so I’m swapping them out for something she’ll approve of.
“Thank you,” I said, anyway, because no matter the reason for her getting rid of them, they were still clothes. Clean, non-drenched-in-spaghetti-clothes. And as much as I might have been looking forward to thrifting it out in the school’s lost and found box, this was still a big help.
Them Seymore Boys: An Enemies to Lovers Bully Romance (The Seymore Brothers Book 1) Page 17