I nodded off after a few pages, and the smell of sizzling bacon woke me to a flood of sunlight pouring in through the window. Wrapping the afghan around me, I wandered into the kitchen.
“Morning, sunshine!” Jess stood at the stove, flipping bacon strips over in a hot pan. I stood back from the spatter.
“M-morning,” I mumbled.
“There’s a fresh pot of coffee.” She gestured to the coffee pot.
Without speaking, I poured myself a cup and then added an abundance of sugar.
“How did you sleep?” I slurped a mouthful of coffee.
“Splendid. I see you got restless.” She eyed me. “I was relieved to find you on the couch and not on one of your drives.”
I waved the words away. “My head hurts.”
“Ha! I wondered if you’d be hungover today.” Jess placed some aspirin in my hand.
“How are you not?” I rubbed my head.
“I’ve had more practice than you.” She winked. “I’m glad you liked the place. You and Santi hit it off.”
“Who’s Santi?”
That got a rise out of her. “You don’t remember last night?”
“I wasn’t that drunk. Was he the guy I was dancing with?”
“Yes. He owns the place. The best tamales in town.”
I nodded. They were damn good. “Not sure if tequila is my drink, though.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It brought out a whole different side to you, one I haven’t seen before.” She scooped the crisp bacon onto a plate. “Greasy food is one of the best cures for a hangover.” Jess opened the oven door and pulled out a plate heaped with hash browns and scrambled eggs.
Like Pavlov’s dog, my mouth started to water.
“Go put some clothes on so we can eat.”
“I threw my jeans over the railing, and I only packed shirts to change into.”
She laughed. “That’s right. Grab a pair of my sweats. I take it we’ll have to go shopping for new jeans for you. Or you can wear one of my skirts.”
“I think I’d rather buy a new pair of jeans. Hopefully, we won’t run into anyone we know at the mall while I’m wearing your sweats.”
I disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared quickly in a T-shirt and pink sweats. Jess was back at the oven, pouring pancake batter into a pan.
“Good lord, you’re cooking enough food for an army.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Never.” I grabbed a strip of bacon and chomped down on it. It was extra crispy—just the way I like it.
We sat at the table and said nothing. Jess didn’t cook a lot, but she could cook a mean breakfast and I didn’t want to waste any time.
“Don’t worry, Paige,” she said as she watched me eat. “There’s no time limit. Take your time eating.” She slapped my thigh.
“Oh, sorry.” I set my fork down and fiddled with my napkin. “Thanks, Jess.”
“You’re welcome. I love cooking for you.”
I looked out the window at a hopeful bird that was perched on the railing. “That’s not what I meant. Thanks for last night.”
“I hope you aren’t referring to our bedroom activities.” She teased.
I felt color rise in my cheeks. She could still embarrass me, even after everything. “No—I mean that was great—but I was talking about taking me out last night. Yesterday was difficult, and you knew exactly what I needed.”
Jess played with her scrambled eggs. “I know therapy isn’t easy on you. I’m always here when you need me.”
“That means the world to me, Jess.” I felt tears forming in my eyes. “I feel like you are the only person I can count on these days.”
Her eyes darted towards the stove. “Oh, damn, I think I left the burner on.”
As she got up, I wiped my eyes and then began shoveling food into my mouth again. The grease was making my stomach feel better, and the aspirin was taking the edge off the jackhammer in my head.
She sauntered back to the table, carrying an extra-crunchy slice of bacon. “Have a piece of charcoal?”
I looked at it skeptically, but still ate it. “Not too bad.”
“The food up there must be awful if you think that’s good.” She sat back down and put her napkin in her lap. Even at home, her manners were impeccable.
The mere mention of school and my life up there depressed me. This was where I wanted to be, not up there with Minnie, Tom, Liddy. Only Jess made me feel safe. Loved.
* * *
I wanted to get to The Gap as quickly as possible. Jess would not let me wear her pink sweats out in public, so I rushed through the parking lot in one of her long, flowing skirts. The fabric rustled around me, and I felt like I was drowning. How did she wear these?
The Gap was at the south-east entrance, and if I was quick enough, I could get in, grab a pair of jeans, and head straight for the dressing rooms before being seen. All of my jeans were from this store. I knew my size and the cut like the back of my hand.
Of course, today had to be the day when I couldn’t find my size and cut. I frantically rummaged through a stack of jeans when I heard a familiar voice.
“Paige, is that you?”
Turning, I saw Mel and Weasel standing there.
“Are you wearing a skirt?” Weasel reached for my skirt, but I slapped his hand away as if he were a mosquito. He was lucky I didn’t squash him.
“Easy there,” Weasel said with a smirk. “That’s not very ladylike.”
Mel’s face prompted me to answer. “I had a mishap last night with my jeans and Jess wouldn’t let me go out in sweats.”
“Pink sweats, I might add.” Jess sidled up next to me and grabbed my hand protectively. “I don’t have a wide selection of casual wear.”
Jess and Weasel locked eyes. Flaming daggers shot out of his. Jess’s eyes didn’t show any hatred, just a steadfast “stay the fuck away from us” look.
Mel stepped closer to me. “Let’s find you a pair of jeans before you faint away from embarrassment.”
Mel and I sorted through the stacks of jeans while Jess and Weasel kept their eye battle going. I had to hand it to Weasel, he didn’t back down.
“Ah, here you go, Paige.” Mel stood up victoriously and handed me the jeans. “Now, scoot.” She shoved me in the direction of the dressing rooms. To my surprise, she didn’t follow me in. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched Mel and Weasel surround Jess. I had thought for sure that Mel would take advantage of the opportunity to corner me in the dressing room, knowing full well I couldn’t leave half-dressed.
By the time I had my new jeans on, Jess and Weasel were going at it. Their voices were hushed, so I couldn’t catch anything that was said, but from their body language, there was no going back. A war had been declared, but over what, I had no idea. Mel stood to the side, looking dejected. When she saw me, she gestured for me to stay put. I’m not sure why, but I did. I knew Jess could handle herself.
A few seconds later, Weasel grabbed Mel by the hand and yanked her out of the store. His limp curls bounced pathetically as he left. Jess’s face was a vibrant crimson and I thought she might need to sit down.
“What in the world was that about?” I asked as I approached, fearful that Weasel might jump out of a rack of clothes.
Jess inspected my jeans. “Oh, nothing. He’s such a charmer.” She motioned for me to turn around. “I do like those. Look at your cute butt.” She pinched my butt cheek. By the time I turned around to face her, her coloring was back to normal and she was in complete control of her emotions. Maybe what I had witnessed wasn’t that big a deal.
“Would you mind if we looked for some shirts while we’re here? I need some more long sleeves.” I tried hard not to touch my wrists, but the scars always demanded my attention.
Jess nodded dejectedly. I secretly watched her eyes wander over the scars and her expression became despondent. I wondered if she envisioned me in the tub every time she caught a glimpse of them. I know that whenever I saw her eyes tak
ing them in like that, all I could hear were her screams from that day.
Jess, however, seemed determined not to dwell on the past. “Now, be a good girl and let me dress you up today. I saw some adorable tops on my way in.” She whisked me off to the front of the store and started holding up shirts for me to try.
By the time we finished, I had two pairs of jeans, four shirts, and two sweaters. I felt like a whole new woman when we headed to Julia’s for a bite to eat. Jess was ecstatic to see me in a pink sweater, and I consoled myself that at least it wasn’t yellow. A pink sweater was okay in public, apparently, but not pink sweats. Jess made it clear that I should wear more colors, not just white, black, and navy with my jeans.
“Have you ever seen a rainbow? Those colors aren’t in it,” she said.
I don’t remember seeing pink either, but I refrained from pointing that out.
Julia’s place was hopping, so Jess and I squeezed in at the counter. It was stifling so close to the kitchen, and I pushed up my sleeves. Julia grimaced when she saw my arms. Too embarrassed to pull them back down, I left them that way.
When Julia went to wait on a table, Jess fingered the scars on my right wrist.
“Have you ever considered getting tattoos?”
She sounded serious.
“You’ve got to be joking. My parents would flip out if I got tattoos on my wrists.”
“Think about it, Paige. How will they react if they see the scars? Besides, more than likely they’ll never see your wrists. Usually, you are pretty careful not to reveal them.”
Of course, I was hypervigilant about everything when it came to my parents.
“Besides, tattoos would be badass.”
“As opposed to pathetic,” I teased.
“You know I’m not saying that.” She squeezed my arm. “But you can’t go around wearing long sleeves buttoned tight for the rest of your life. Wouldn’t you like to wear short sleeves and have people admiring your tats instead of gawking at your scars?”
I shrugged. “I guess. But won’t it hurt?”
She started to say something and then stopped.
I had a good idea what she wanted to say.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get you loaded on tequila,” she said instead.
“What do you propose, matching rainbows?” I was still tempted to mention that pink was not really in the rainbow. I liked the sweater for its feel—it was cashmere—not because of the color. Jess had insisted on buying me something nice, and the three-hundred-dollar price tag hadn’t deterred her.
“No! I said cool, not asinine.” She thought for a minute. “Let me chat with my friend who’s a tattoo artist and see what he suggests. He’ll cut us a deal, and his work is fantastic.”
“You have a friend who’s a tattoo artist? How many people do you actually know in this town?” I didn’t wait for an answer, because I knew it would never come. Jess didn’t share too much about how she met people. Knowing Jess, she had wanted to find out about tattoos and had wandered into a parlor to ask questions. I knew she didn’t have any tattoos herself.
“Maybe he can squeeze you in tomorrow.”
The thought made me squirm. Needles were not my friends.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and even before I turned around, I had a good hunch who it would be.
“Hi, Mel. Care to join us?” I gestured to the stool next to me.
“I see you bought more than jeans this morning. Nice sweater.” Her words dripped with scorn.
“Thanks. Jess bought it for me—an early Christmas gift.” I tried to sound confident, but it was a pathetic attempt.
“Mel, can I buy you a beer?” Jess chipped in to rescue me.
“Yes,” Mel said, but her look said, Only so I can throw it in your face.
Jess either didn’t notice or pretended that everything was kosher—just three friends out for a few drinks together.
A table opened up, and Julia ushered us over before someone else nabbed it. A few moments later, Julia brought three beers to the table and collapsed next to Mel.
“Whew, what a lunch rush!” She fanned herself with a menu.
“I see that review paid off.” Jess smiled broadly.
“I don’t know if I should thank you or throttle you.” Julia dabbed the back of her neck with a napkin.
“What are you talking about?” I turned to Jess.
“Oh, I had one of my newspaper buddies write a review of Julia’s to drum up more business.”
“It worked. We’ve been slammed every day since it appeared. Now I need to hire some help.”
“Jess, I know you like helping out at the bookstore, but what about picking up some shifts here?” Mel looked triumphant as she tried to corner Jess into a waitressing job.
Jess, however, looked thrilled with the idea. “Do I get to keep the tips?”
“Of course!” Julia perked up in her seat. “But don’t expect high rollers here.”
“Oh, if there are high rollers, I bet Jess would spot them a mile away,” quipped Mel.
Briefly, I saw a flash of anger in Jess’s eyes, but it just as quickly disappeared. “For one of my classes, I have to design a business model. I wonder if working here would help with my project.”
I chuckled. “That’s so you: picking up an extra job to get a better grade in school. And you haven’t even started the program yet!”
“What about you, Paige?” Julia arched her eyebrows.
“What do you mean? Work here?” My voice squeaked.
“Yes, on the weekends. You can work on your people skills.”
“I thought you were trying to drum up business, not kill it,” I retorted.
“You’ve never had a job. It’s time you started building up your resume.” Julia gave me a look that said, Don’t argue.
“How do you feel about tattoos, Julia? Paige is thinking of getting some on her arms.” Jess didn’t mention that they were to cover up my scars, but I’m sure Julia and Mel figured that out on their own.
“I’ve got no issue with that. Next Saturday, Paige; that’ll be your first day.” With those words she leaped out of her seat and went back to work.
“Is she serious?” I queried Mel’s face. She had tried to screw Jess and somehow she had screwed me instead.
“I think she is. It’ll be fun. We’ll work together. And it will help our fund to get away from here and start a whole new life away from your folks.” Jess sounded thrilled at the idea and it did appeal to me more, when she put it that way.
Mel looked pensive. Would she miss me, or my money? Again, I saw her scrutinize Jess, but the anger had vanished. I couldn’t put my finger on the new emotion. It looked like a new idea was dawning on her, one that she’d never contemplated before.
“Maybe she’ll hire me. I could use the extra dough.” Mel’s shoulders relaxed, and she guzzled her beer.
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.” Jess darted for Julia to give her the news. I had a feeling she wasn’t asking for permission, but rather informing Julia that all three of us would begin working there next Saturday.
“How’s school going, Paige?”
“All right. It’s hard being away from here, though.” I picked at the label on my beer.
“I bet. Jess has a way of calming you down.” Mel’s eyes clouded over.
Jess banged both hands down on the table. “It’s all set, ladies!” She raised her beer and clinked bottles with both of us.
Chapter Fifteen
On Monday morning, Jess woke me before the sun had considered rising for the day.
“Sorry, sweetie, but you have French class, and I have to get to work.”
I grunted in reply. Jess handed me a cup of coffee and sat down next to me. After pulling myself into an upright position, I took a swig.
“Mornings should be illegal.”
She brushed some hair off my cheek. “Some of us enjoy them.”
“That’s because you’re sick and demented.” I glan
ced at the clock, which alerted me that I didn’t have much time. Slamming down half of my coffee, I then crawled out of bed and hauled my exhausted body to the shower. The mirror was fogged over from Jess’s shower, preventing me from seeing how bad I looked.
Before I left the apartment, Jess handed me a travel mug of coffee and a breakfast bar. How in the world was she so organized all of the time?
Traffic was light at that time of day, and fortunately there was a parking spot right in front of my dorm room. I ran upstairs to grab my French notebook. Minnie was nowhere to be seen, but Karen was asleep in my bed. Did Jenna have company?
I didn’t have time to ask, and Karen never stirred.
By two in the afternoon, I was spent. Skipping my afternoon walk to settle my mind, I went straight to my dorm room.
Karen, Tom, Jenna, and Minnie were in a deep discussion. Before I had even set my backpack down, Karen asked, “Paige, what do you think?”
It didn’t take much effort to see that Minnie felt like she was being attacked.
“Um, about what?” I really didn’t want to get involved.
“Amendment 2.” Karen swiveled her head to stare me down.
I knew something about it because Jess was so involved in her gay group. Basically, it denied gays and lesbians the right to be recognized as a protected class, which opened the door for lawful discrimination, but I wasn’t sure what angle I should take.
“What about it?” I stalled.
Karen whipped around to face Minnie. “Audrey, here, thinks that gays shouldn’t have any rights whatsoever.” She waved her finger in Minnie’s face.
This was not a conversation I wanted to have with any of them. It hit way too close to home for me. Yet, I also knew I couldn’t side with Minnie. Going on fake dates with Tom was one thing, but condemning gay people altogether was another.
“I don’t see what the fuss is all about really,” I croaked.
Karen scrutinized me. Tom and Jenna stared at their feet.
“What do you mean?” asked Minnie, hopefully.
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