by C. Lymari
As soon as Juliet walked out of the store, Blake scolded me. “You’re a dick, Jay. Why didn’t you offer to help her?”
I already went out of my way twice today: one, to help Juliet, and two, giving her my coffee. I didn’t care what that damn chalkboard said, but I wasn’t too keen on getting burned.
“She’s a big girl. She can handle herself,” I said.
My brother looked like he wanted to say more but stopped when Juliet walked back in. There were snowflakes in her hair. I guessed the snow had started.
“Well, thanks for everything.” She smiled shyly at me and turned to walk away.
“You’re not planning on painting right now, right?” I yelled after her.
“Uh, why?”
Is she serious?
“Because it’s cold and snowing. You can’t crack a window right now,” my little brother answered.
She murmured something under her breath. “Then no, I’m not painting today… Bye, guys.”
She waved at Blake and me. I watched as she walked to her car, then stopped. I walked over to the window so that I could get a better look. She was looking at her brother, Max, but he didn’t turn to acknowledge her. Before she stepped foot in her car, I saw the pain in her eyes, and I didn’t like that it bothered me. The only reason Max would be pissed at someone from his family was because he was protecting Freya. So, I ignored the feelings Juliet made me feel, and I told myself she probably deserved it.
7
Juliet
Sophomore Year
The winter dance came and left, and whatever notions I’d had of maybe having a dance with Jake were ruined because he got suspended. He was gone for one week, and that week sucked. I hadn’t realized just how much I looked forward to spending time with him for one period a day. I kept waiting for him to ask for my phone number, but I realized he probably didn’t have one. Jana didn’t either, and her parents were doing okay financially. A phone was a privilege and not a right. I had to remind myself of that. Just because my parents tossed phones at all of us it didn’t mean others’ parents could afford the same. After Jake came back, he chilled on the flirting, which made me wonder if he had a girlfriend.
I hated that I cared.
“Remember when Jake got suspended?” Jana leaned into me at lunch so only I could hear.
“Yeah?” I was hesitant. I hadn’t told anyone about my infatuation with Jake Carson.
“I overheard him and Russell talking.” Jana paused, and I loved her, but she tended to be dramatic. Not as much as Abbi and Nikki, but still it was driving me crazy right now. “I think he did it for you.”
“What?” I asked excitedly.
No way. Had he really said my name? He and Russell were good friends despite Russ being a junior.
Jana looked hesitant to answer.
“Jana?”
“It was what Russell said that made me think it was you, or it could be Abbi.”
The thought of Abigail and Jake made me sick. She was gorgeous, wealthy, older. Where I was redheaded and pasty, she was blonde and golden.
“What did he say?”
“You shouldn’t bother getting in trouble for that rich bitch.”
My voice cracked when I asked, “What did Jake say?”
Jana gave me a pitying look. “Nothing. He just shrugged it off.”
Jake and I weren’t even friends, not really, so it shouldn’t hurt that he didn’t defend me. It should hurt that he saw me like the rest of the world saw me. I was quiet and kept to myself, upheld my image, and somehow, people thought I looked down on them when they were the first to judge me. I didn’t know liking someone could leave a crack on your heart. It wasn’t big enough to break, but the feeling was something, all right.
“I’m sorry, Julie. I didn’t know you liked him.”
“Who do we like?” Abigail used the moment to lean in.
“The substitute teacher we had last week—he was hot.” It was better than saying Jake.
Abigail made a face, turning her pretty features sour. “Ew gross, he’s a teacher.”
Abigail wasn’t turned off because he was older—that didn’t matter to her. The fact that the guy was a teacher did. He wasn’t up to our standards. I swear Abigail would have been the perfect daughter for my parents.
“Oh, look, there’s Max.” Nikki perked up.
I would have thought after last semester’s fiasco she would have backed down.
“Why am I not surprised that little slut is looking at him?” Abigail’s voice was lethal.
I didn’t gawk at Max like the rest of the world did—he was my brother, one of my best friends—but I did turn my head when no one else was looking. Max fixed his gaze on Freya, who sat alone. When she looked up, feeling his gaze, my brother gave her a blinding smile.
Interesting.
That explained his good mood lately. I didn’t care much about Freya Pratt; as long as she didn’t hurt my brother, I couldn’t give a fuck. Abigail, on the other hand, was going to lose her shit.
When I walked into art class, I had an idea of what to put on my final project. I was inspired by the snow and wanted to add in blues, whites, and silvers. Jake usually put our stuff away, so I shouldn’t have been surprised he’d stored our stuff all the way at the top. I wasn’t short, but I wasn’t tall either. Jumping up, I tried to make the canvas fall—not like I had much to worry about; compared to everyone’s else, mine was trash. I was midjump again when I heard his dark chuckle.
“Do you mind?” I snapped at him.
Jake stood at the entrance of the supply closet, blocking my view from the class and blocking them from us.
“I’m enjoying the show,” he drawled.
I usually grew giddy from his attention, but Jana’s words still lingered. Sure, they weren’t any words I hadn’t heard before, I just didn’t think he would feel the same way as everyone else. Not after the candygram.
Just before I could jump, Jake pressed his weight behind me, and just like at our lockers, he wrapped an arm around my hips. The room smelled like paint, and now it was mixed with his personal aroma. It made it hard to breathe—everything I smelled had a trace of him. Add the hand on my hip and I was melting. With one hand holding on to me, Jake was able to get our projects. More than anything, I wanted to lean back and get one of those famous “Bear” hugs.
“I like this,” he murmured, his peppermint scent invading all of me.
That hand on my waist wrapped all around me, his body close to mine. Closing my eyes, I wished he didn’t remind me of winter. I loved winter, the kiosk covered in snow and the tree lighting. It was when my parents were more lenient.
Once I opened my eyes, I took a step forward, away from his embrace. I didn’t look at him, scared that he could see the hurt in my eyes. I went to my seat, and he followed. Through class, he kept glancing my way, but I ignored him. Instead, I worked on my canvas, incorporating cotton balls so it looked like snow, and under all the layers, words that had been ingrained inside me until they froze over, becoming permanent.
“Are you pissed at me, Juliet?”
I was, and I knew I wasn’t good at hiding my temper, so he knew I was too. Jake dropped it, but every now and then he kept staring at me. Before Mrs. Boyd could tell us to put our assignments away, I was already standing up, putting my painting away from Jake’s. A part of me felt sad in doing so.
“If you didn’t want me talking to you, all you had to do was say so, Dunnett, instead of acting like a bitch.”
They were words I’ve heard from my peers, and I deluded myself into thinking they would never come from him.
Turning around, I smiled at him. “That’s me. Just some rich bitch, right?”
When the bell rang, instead of going to my last class, I went home.
The following week, we had a test and library research, so there wasn’t much time for Jake and me to talk. The week after that, it was spring break. I spent most of it with my nana in Florida. She could tell somethi
ng was wrong with me, but she didn’t push. Nana never did.
“Don’t let what that father of yours wants hold you back from getting what you want, baby,” was all she said.
It was safe to say Nana wasn’t very fond of Daddy. She said there was ambition, and then there was greed. My nana wasn’t like my parents with their thoughts and opinions about marrying right; maybe it was the old age that had softened her. It was always hard to say goodbye to her, but after my grandfather died, she came back to her childhood home.
When I went back to school, I knew what it felt like to be alone. Jana was sick, so she missed school, and Abigail wasn’t back from her family vacation. As snobbish as the Newtons were, they made time for family. I was on my way to lunch when I heard a shriek. Naturally, I turned to see where it was coming from. Jake was holding Freya Pratt over his shoulder. She was laughing, begging for him to put her down. I should have turned away, but I was transfixed by his hands on her thighs.
A while back, someone ranked the girls, and despite being a freshman, Freya made the top five. Jana and I also made it, but we were sophomores already. I had never felt jealous of another girl before. I had everything they had or could have it if I wanted it… but not now. When Jake turned around, Freya still on his shoulders, our eyes met. I held his stare before I closed my locker and walked the opposite way to the lunch room.
“What are you doing here?” Came my oldest brother’s voice.
I didn’t look up at Prescott when he walked over to where I was. Unlike Max, Pres had found his signature cologne since his sophomore year. It was comforting, and it helped him not sneak up on me.
“I don’t want you to sit alone. You could have come and sat with my friends and me,” he continued.
“I’m not going to die from being alone.”
My brother patted my head. He wasn’t as sensitive as Max, but he had his moments, and I think that’s why they were more special.
“You think I don’t notice that you’ve been sad?” he said.
“You ever get tired of being a Dunnett?” I angled my head so I could look up at my big brother. His face softened when he looked at me.
“Life’s a game, Julie. You’ve got to learn how to play or you’ll get played. We have what we have—there’s no point in wishing otherwise. Do what you want, sis, but do it because you want to, not because you think it will make Dad happy.”
I scoffed. It was easy for him to say. Prescott was ambitious; I knew he was going to break records. The Dunnett name was recognized in business society, but it would take the political one by storm with my brother. Prescott stayed with me at lunch so I wouldn’t be alone. No one dared interrupt our conversation. We sat alone, both of us unattainable in our own ways, until it was time for the next class.
It was five minutes past five, and no one was in art class. I’d left one day early to Florida, so maybe they’d moved the class. Just then, the door opened and Jake walked in.
“No one told you we were in the library?”
“Obviously not,” I scoffed. “Why else would I come to class like an idiot?”
I started to put my stuff away. Jake cornered me in the storage closet. He took my painting and put it on the top shelf next to his. Jake was making a statement. My nana’s words rang in my ear, but so did Jana’s.
“I fucked up.” I looked up at Jake’s blue eyes, and even in the darkness of the room, they gleamed. “I shouldn’t have called you a bitch.” He ran a hand through his hair, then grabbed a brown-covered square that was in one of the shelves in the closet. “What you said to me last time didn’t sit right… When your girl kept glaring at me in class, I knew why it didn’t sit right.” Jake took a step closer to me. “I don’t think any of that shit, Juliet… I think you’re fucking awesome.”
Oh, my God. Jake thought I was fucking awesome.
“I didn’t need drama this year. I blew it off last time we talked.”
My stomach sank.
“The thing is, I kept thinking about you… that sad look in your eyes.” Jake handed me the square covered in brown paper.
I knew it was a brown paper bag from his store. I gasped. In my hands I held a canvas. It was the Christmas tree in front of the kiosk on Main Street covered in snow and lights.
“How did you know?” I asked, hugging the portrait to my chest.
Jake seemed sheepish to answer. “Your girl Jana, she said you love the tree lighting, and I figured I could make you this.”
“Thank you, Jake. I love it.”
That was the right answer; his eyes darkened and zeroed in on my lips. I swear I could hear the electricity around us.
“We should head back before they come looking for us.” The rushed words left my mouth because I was nervous.
He wanted to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. Why did I open my mouth? Jake looked disappointed but opened the door for me. Before he went into the library, I took hold of his hand, relishing the way mine disappeared into his. I wondered what it would be like walking down the halls holding hands with him.
“I like talking to you,” I admitted shyly.
Jake gave me a slow, sensual smile, and I knew I was fucked.
8
Juliet
Snowflakes hit against my window, reminding me that I needed to get blinds. I’d add it to my endless list of things I needed but weren’t a priority to get. When I’d moved out to college, everything was easy. I didn’t have to suffer like most broke college kids. All I did was swipe, swipe, swipe my card full of Daddy’s money and all my needs were taken care of. The place needs blinds? Swipe. That art piece would look divine in my kitchen. Swipe. Oops, these lamps don’t match my furniture—leave them in the closet because I forgot to return them.
Gosh, I was spoiled.
When I got married, things were the same. I went to town with my husband’s bank account. Back then, it was our account, our money. Right now, blinds weren’t so high on my shopping list. It’s funny how things like toilet paper and hand towels hadn’t even been on my radar, but now when I shopped, I looked at the packs and the prices and wondered if there was going to come a time when I couldn’t afford all the basic shit?
My phone rang, and I let it go to voicemail. I wasn’t in the mood to hear Prescott accuse me of being a spoiled little bitch. But when I checked the screen, I saw it was my lawyer who’d called. Chad was fighting the divorce, and things were going to get ugly. I knew this was going to happen when I’d sent over the divorce papers a day after I walked out. The only reason I’d hired that cheap lawyer was because I needed to start legal proceedings stat. I had hoped my big brother would handle things for me, but Max wasn’t speaking to me.
I couldn’t say I blamed him. Prescott, on the other hand, didn’t get the same pass. It hurt, but it was what it was. Cheap lawyer it was, now that I couldn’t blow away what little money I had on my divorce, and since we were more than likely going to trial, it was going to get expensive. I wanted to work for Dunnett Industries, but neither of my brothers wanted to see me.
Once things blew over, both of my brothers would come around. Max would feel guilty, but I didn’t want my brother’s pity. I wanted him to be there for me before learning the whole story. Prescott was a selfish bastard, and I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. The idea of a perfect family was to have people who had your back no matter what, and sadly that wasn’t my family.
I used to idolize Daddy—he could do no wrong in my eyes. The day he made Freya go away, I thought it was for the best. She’d threatened to take everything from my brother, everything that was his by right. I didn’t want to see Max suffer without the means to achieve all of his goals. I was sure my mother was behind the whole thing; like me, they could see that Freya was a gold-digging whore.
Then I found out Mom never knew about it, and I felt guilty. If I really thought about it, I guess I always knew what Dad did was wrong, but I was too stuck in my own head. I didn’t want to cause drama for my family. That was why I spoke up whe
n I did—it might have been late, but it wasn’t irreversible. I didn’t want my brother stuck in a loveless marriage like I was. Once he committed to something, he was in all the way, no matter what, and Abigail was not for him. Over time, she would have made him miserable.
My father didn’t care about our family, not in the way most people cared about their kids. He cared about image, social standing, and power. Nothing stains a name faster than a scandal. When I ran, my father smelled my scandal from a mile away and refused to help me because, for the first time, I told him his way was wrong. My well-being didn’t matter to my father, so why should staining the family name matter to me?
I was scared to leave my comfort zone, but I was also liberated. My father and husband had many things in common, and one of them was to remind me exactly whose money I was spending. Sure I was scared at first, but I went to college and had a degree; I wasn’t some pathetic little woman with nothing. I had the means to survive, and I could wear my fear like a cloak and embrace it.
It was for the best. I might be struggling, but there was comfort in the fact that I was surviving on my own. I had the means and made ends meet. I got by bookkeeping online. It wasn’t my dream job, like working for Dunnett Industries, but it was something.
“There’s never any fucking food!”
I closed my eyes tightly, trying to ignore the shouts that came from the apartment next door. The walls were too thin, and I hated them. Right now I’d rather be anywhere but here. Looking around my tiny apartment, I decided to go out and get something to eat. The snow was going to keep falling—might as well go get something. If I was lucky, the shouting would stop by then.
Before I could think much about it, I went into my closet, grabbed my coat and a big scarf, and headed out to my car. When I got to town, it seemed almost everyone had the same idea as I had. My first option was Franny’s—hell, maybe I could even eat there. Alone.