by Cassie James
Jake launches into an animated story about his wild older brother’s most recent exploits. It’s an old habit of ours, laughing about the trouble his brother gets into. When things were at the worst with my parents, Jake and I would lay side-by-side in the field between our houses while he told me the stories. It’s the most comforting thing I can ask for right now. I close my eyes while I listen to him talk and I can almost imagine I’m home again.
Chapter 3
I’m so wrapped up in listening to the sound of Jake’s voice that I don’t even notice someone has joined me on the balcony until they lean on the railing next to me. “Finding Juliet on a balcony feels a little cliché if you ask me.” A high-pitched squeak escapes me as I startle and my phone goes flying out of my hand. I watch in horror as the outdated little flip phone breaks in half on the balcony’s stone flooring.
All the emotion I’ve been feeling finally breaks free as I drop to the ground, hopelessly trying to salvage the device. Fat, hot tears trail over my cheeks until I eventually just bury my head in my hands and sob.
“Goddamn, it’s just a phone.” The guy pries the broken pieces out of my hands and scoffs. “And not even a good one.” He grabs me by the wrist and yanks me up—luckily, not by the same one Pearl grabbed. What is it with people not keeping their hands to themselves around here? Back home, this kind of thing would inevitably end in someone getting their ass kicked.
“The person you were talking to, do you know their number?” I nod but refuse to look at the guy talking to me. I know he knows I’m crying, it would be impossible not to notice from my gasping breaths, but I’m trying to maintain some last shred of dignity. He holds a phone out under my tucked chin. It’s maybe the nicest thing anyone has done for me since I showed up, so I swallow my pride and take it.
I stare down at the sleek black device, the feeling of it foreign in my hand. No one I know has a phone like this. The only name brand phones I’ve seen in person are usually outdated by a few years. Sometimes a little newer, but usually only if it’s stolen. I’m not an idiot, though, so it’s not hard to figure out how to use it. I press the button on the side to bring the screen to life. Then, I’m left staring dumbly down at a lock screen. I wait for a second, thinking the guy will either give me the password or take his phone back.
“Here.” He puts his hand over mine, drawing the phone to the side. I have no idea what he’s doing, so I trail the movement with my eyes. It only takes a split second before I give in and turn my head to see what’s happening. He’s leaned in looking directly at the phone screen, and the device comes to life. He turns his head as he guides the phone back in front of me, our eyes connecting.
What the hell is it with people’s eyes around here? There’s a familiar quality about them, and as I stare into the bluest eyes I think I’ve ever seen, I realize that they look eerily similar to the girl downstairs that offered to loan me clothes. He’s got the same light colored hair, too, the ends curling just slightly so it looks like he’s prepping for a boy band audition.
“Do you have a sister?” I blurt out. His hand is still covering mine, the two of us holding his phone together in a weird hand embrace that’s far too intimate for strangers.
He raises one blonde eyebrow. “You should probably call your friend back before he starts to worry.” I’m not sure if he’s assuming I was on the phone with a guy or if I grossly underestimated how long he’d been standing on the balcony without me noticing. He definitely avoided answering my question, which is weird because it seems like the kind of thing I’ll get the answer to eventually anyway.
“Yeah, uhm, you’re still holding my hand though.” He looks down, his face twisting with confusion as if he didn’t realize we were still touching. He pulls back like the physical contact is suddenly burning him. He turns away, tucking his hands in his pockets as he walks to the opposite corner of the small balcony and faces out, looking down on the well-manicured garden in the back. I wish I could have more privacy, but it feels rude to ask him to go inside while I’m borrowing his phone.
I have to call Jake’s number three times before he answers. “Hello?” He sounds exasperated.
“Hey, it’s me.” I face in towards the wall of the house, talking quietly because it feels weird being on the phone now that I know this other guy is right there listening. “I dropped my phone and it’s a goner. I borrowed someone’s phone because I didn’t want to worry you, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to get a replacement.” I didn’t see any Mango’s Hot Chicken restaurants on the drive through town. Who knows what luck I’ll have finding a part-time job in a place like this.
“Can you get me your new address? I can send you a phone. Or maybe even drive up and hand deliver it for you. It’s not safe for you to go without a phone.” His offer is all the more sweet because I know he can’t afford to buy me a phone. Even he still uses a hand-me-down from his brother. I don’t really think he can afford to drive up here, either. Not on his Hot Chicken salary.
“No, I don’t want you getting me a phone, Jake. I’ll figure something out. Promise.” Maybe Pearl will take pity on me and get me one. God knows she’s got enough money after seeing this monstrosity of a house and all of its art that’s worth a small fortune. Now I just have to work up the nerve to ask her. Which doesn’t actually sound all that appealing based on our limited interactions so far. “I’ve got to go okay? I need to give this guy his phone back. I’ll call you again as soon as I can.” The line is silent, and I start to think the line went dead. “Jake?”
He huffs the way he always does when he doesn’t understand something. “What guy?” I pull my head away from the phone and stare blankly at the screen for a second before putting it back to my ear. There’s so much annoyance in Jake’s voice that for a second I stupidly wonder if I’ve called the wrong number and this isn’t even Jake I’m talking to at all. He sounds… jealous. Really jealous.
“I don’t know, just some guy.” Goosebumps break out over my arms and I just know without looking that the guy is looking at me now. Not that I blame him, since I’m obviously talking about him. “Why are you being weird about it?” I want to smack myself in the face as soon as the question leaves my mouth. I’m starting something that I can’t finish from here.
“Do I really need to answer that?” An uncomfortable silence falls between us as I try to think of anything to say that will make this less weird. I need things with Jake and me to be okay, otherwise I don’t know how the heck I’m going to get through all these sudden changes. I need one good thing in my life that isn’t going to change on me. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jess.” My shoulders tense because I know what he’s insinuating, that I’m going to get involved with someone here. And I can read between the lines, too, that he doesn’t want that to happen. Not because of what it would mean for me, but because of what it might mean for us.
“You either,” I tell him quietly. I really freaking hate that a stranger is witnessing such a vulnerable moment, because this is probably as close as Jake and I have ever gotten to admitting there might be something more than friendship between us. It’s been obvious for a while, but we’ve been operating for a long time under an unspoken agreement not to talk about it. Now we’re really skirting the line. “Bye, Jake.” I hang up before either of us can say anything else we shouldn’t.
I stare down at the phone and try really, really hard not to start crying again. I never wanted to be too tied down to anything in Nikon Park. I really wanted to prove that I could be one of the rare few that got out. Dating Jake would have jeopardized that. His whole life is there and he’s never expressed any interest in wanting to leave. That was enough to scare me off from letting things go too far. Now, the irony is that exactly what I feared has happened. I’m gone and he’s still there, and no matter what we say to each other now, nothing will change that fact.
“Are you always this intense?” I try to curb my annoyance as I hand the guy his phone back. He did me a favor, so even thou
gh he’s poking fun at me now it doesn’t seem right to jump all over him about one stupid little comment. “You’re awfully fucking rude considering I just did you a favor.” He puts a finger under my chin and forces my head up so we’re face-to-face. He’s got some nerve. I turn my head away from his touch and shuffle to the side, putting some much-needed distance between us. What is it with people and personal space here?
“You’re the reason my phone broke in the first place!” I would never have dropped it if he hadn’t startled me. Anyone with decent manners would have moved along when they saw the balcony was occupied, but no this guy came on out and made himself right at home in the middle of my private call. I can’t believe he has the audacity to act like such an ass about it now, though I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised considering it seems I’m striking out with everyone I meet here.
He’s completely undeterred by me recoiling from his touch. He changes tactics, moving to my side and wrapping his arm around my waist in another too-familiar and altogether inappropriate gesture. I try to plant my feet but he tugs me forward with him. “Good, you do have a little fire in you after all. You’ll need that around here. Trust me, princess, nobody likes a crybaby.” He opens the balcony door and forces me through it, his arm never leaving my waist.
I’m just starting to tug at his fingers to try to get him off of me when another blonde head appears coming up the stairs. It’s the same girl from before, and her expression sours as soon as she sees me. “What the hell, Smith. Back off.” She reaches the top of the stairs and gives him a solid shove. He releases me, raising his hands up in mock surrender. She rolls her eyes at him and looks to me. “Just ignore him, I’m obviously the better half.” Her words confirm what I already thought, they’re siblings. Twins, probably, considering they look the same age and are a near spitting image of each other. “I’m Sadie.”
She offers me her free hand and even though I’m so tired of physical contact with all these touchy rich people, I play nice and shake her hand. She is doing me a favor, after all. I think. Actually, I decide to hold off on believing that until I actually see what outfit she brought for me. There’s a dress bag in her other hand, but it’s not like the cheap see through ones that I’ve seen girls get when they buy their prom dresses from the department store. It looks like… velvet? Is that even a thing?
“Jess,” I introduce myself out of habit. Sadie and Smith exchange amused looks, but it takes me a second to catch onto the joke. “Or Juliet?” I amend uncertainly with a small laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will get easier.” I’m not sure if she means my new name or my new life, but I don’t ask because I’m not sure I’ll like the answer. Sadie laces her arm through mine and nudges me further down the hall. I let her, mostly because she really does seem like the lesser of two evils.
Sadie pulls me through an open doorway into the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen. Seriously, I’ve seen public bathrooms smaller than this. Everything is shiny white too, like blindingly so. I try to discreetly check out my sandals, worried I might track mud—or general Nikon Park filth—in here or something. Smith, who I didn’t notice was following us, tries to join us in the bathroom but Sadie shakes her head at him and slams the door in his face. It’s pretty satisfying to watch after the way he manhandled me back there.
“First things, let’s stash this.” She tugs the straps of my backpack until I slide it off and hand it to her. She opens another door, and I’m not sure how she knew but it leads to a linen closet. She tucks my backpack away on the bottom shelf and turns back to study me. “Your makeup is okay, I think, but we’ve got to do something about your hair.” I watch in the mirror as Sadie makes a loop around me, examining me from head to toe. I’m surprised she’s okay with my makeup considering I’m only wearing a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. Dollar store brands, too, which I’m sure wouldn’t impress her much. Every inch of Sadie looks carefully plucked, polished, and pampered.
She hangs the dress bag she’s still carrying on the back of the door and unzips it partway. I still can’t see the dress, but I get a good look at a pair of shoes that make my heart rate spike dangerously. “Those aren’t for me, are they?” Not only is the heel several inches higher than what I might be comfortable with, but the soles are blood red. I’ve never seen a pair of red bottoms in real life before, but I know they cost more than my entire wardrobe. Several times over.
“What?” Sadie pulls a comb out from somewhere in the bag and turns to see what I’m talking about. I nod at the shoes, which I have no intention of wearing. “Oh, the shoes.” She pulls them out and puts them down on the counter in front of me. “What? You don’t like them?” I nearly choke at the idea that someone like me would even have the right to dislike shoes like this. No, that’s definitely not the problem here.
I shake my head. “No, they’re beautiful. I’d just rather wear something, uh, preferably that costs less than the house I grew up in.” Sadie stares at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.
“Okay, I’ll admit I don’t know all that much about where you came from. I’m not nearly as obsessed with all of your—” she waves her hand and the comb wildly in my direction— “stuff as everyone else seems to be. But I do know Patience. You’ll get eaten alive if you act like you don’t deserve to be here. This place is your birthright. And the jerks here are the same as anywhere else, just better dressed.” I made the same realization myself earlier, so there really must be some truth to her words. “Now, chin up and let’s do something about this rat’s nest of yours.”
My nose wrinkles but I can’t say she’s wrong. Sherry tried to talk me into brushing my hair on the car ride here, but I was too busy being a mopey pain in the ass to listen. I think deep down I figured if I was going to be a disappointment to my new family then I wanted to do it on my own terms. I’ve always been pretty good at burying myself in that kind of logic.
Sadie is surprisingly gentle as she combs out my hair. She hums as she works, a soft tune that I don’t recognize. I close my eyes, my anxiety easing up for the first time since I caught the breaking news story that changed everything. It’s a lot quieter in Patience than it is in Nikon Park. I can hear the muted sounds of the party happening below, of course, but I don’t hear taxis honking or cars drag racing on the freeway. Now that I’m away from all the people groping and griping at me, I feel like I can actually catch my breath.
There’s just one thing that’s still bothering me in the back of my mind. I open one eye and squint at Sadie. “You’re being awfully nice to me.” I want to just enjoy it, but I can’t help being a little bit suspicious. In my experience, girls are usually harder to get along with than guys. Yet, here’s Sadie being much nicer than both of the guys I’ve interacted with so far. Smith did let me use his phone, but that was pretty much overshadowed by him yanking me around like a rag doll, so I’m not counting it anymore.
Sadie leans around me so we make eye contact. Her mouth twists into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. “Patience has a way of ruining people.” She says it like she knows from experience. “I can’t save you from that, but I can make sure you’ve got one person in your corner. Even if I am a Harrington.” She says the name in mock horror, just the way Pearl said it before.
“What’s the big deal about that? Some kind of weird family feud or something?” That seems like a rich people kind of thing to be caught up on. Maybe someone slept with someone’s wife or something. Or maybe I’ve just seen a few too many daytime TV shows.
“That, Juliet, is a story for another day. One with a steady stream of cocktails.” She grins when I jerk my head to eye her suspiciously. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s a poorly kept secret around here that the country club will serve you if you’re hot enough. If we put you in something low cut enough, we might even get our drinks for free.” She looks pointedly down at my chest; I cross my arms uncomfortably.
It isn’t like I’ve been sheltered from anything. I�
��ve been to plenty of shitty parties with everyone else my age drinking. Usually a warm keg someone’s older brothers bought or a bottle of whisky they stole out of their parents’ hands after they passed out cold. But watching my parents drown themselves in liquor so they never had to face their own failures? That doesn’t exactly inspire a person to pick the bottle up themselves. “I don’t drink.”
Sadie presses her lips together in a tight smile, her voice low as she answers. “Don’t worry, this place will change your mind.” She laughs, the sound of it low and uncomfortable as she changes the subject. “Anyway, what do you think?”
I turn to look at myself in the mirror again and my eyes widen when I see what she’s done. My hair looks sleek. It still has its natural wave, but now it looks purposeful instead of like a tangled mess. I’ve never seen my hair look so shiny. Is there a difference between rich people combs and poor people combs? Because damn.
“You’re like a miracle worker. Thank you, seriously.” It’s painfully obvious that I don’t fit in here, but if I’m gonna have to go back downstairs and face all those people again, at least I’ll look like I’m one of them.
Sadie gives me a wicked grin as she waves her dress bag in front of me. “Don’t thank me just yet. You haven’t seen the dress I brought you.” She thrusts the bag into my hands and waves her fingers at me as she retreats out the door. She’s almost out completely out when her head pops back in. With a serious look she says, “Keep an open mind, ‘kay? Show them what Juliet-freaking-Lexington looks like.”
The door clicks quietly closed behind her. I have to take a deep, steadying breath because I know I’m not ready for whatever is in this bag. I’m not really ready to be Juliet Lexington, either, but it’s really starting to feel like I don’t have a say in the matter. I keep turning over in my head the way Sadie said this place was my birthright. Everything feels so foreign right now, but maybe it doesn’t have to stay that way. I survived Nikon Park, regardless of Sadie’s warning, this place can’t be any worse. And at least this time I’m pretty sure I can count on a warm, safe place to sleep.