by Paula Kay
Chapter 8
Jemma willed Dex to pick up his phone.
Please pick up, please pick up.
“Hi, babe, what’s up?”
“Dex. I need to get out of here.”
“You want me to come pick you up?
“Yeah, but like I mean I’m leaving here. For good.” She was crying now, but she knew she couldn’t stay. She’d never really thought of running away before but she was practically eighteen anyway.
“Are you talking about my text?”
“No, what text? What are you talking about?”
She pulled up her text messages while listening to Dex on the speakerphone.
Babe, let’s go to LA. Andrea says we can stay with her.
“No, I hadn’t seen your text until now.”
“That’s kind of crazy, Jem.”
“Yeah, well, my life has suddenly become a little crazy, hasn’t it? Yes, let’s do it. Let’s go to LA. Will you pick me up later? When I text you? I’m going to wait until everyone is asleep. No need for more drama than what has already taken place today.”
Dex agreed that he’d be waiting for her text, and Jemma hung up the phone feeling more calm than she’d felt in the last two days—maybe even in the last few months. It was time for her to be on her own, to do things on her terms. It might be hard for the first few weeks, but she’d be with Dex and then—she’d get her money—the trust.
And she already knew that there wasn’t anything anyone could do to keep that from her. Douglas had explained to her how it all worked, and she understood that Arianna had set it up so that she would have full control of the money once she turned eighteen. For some reason Arianna had trusted that Jemma would be a smart girl at eighteen—that she’d have the wherewithal to know how to handle all that money. Arianna hadn’t known that Jemma would be as messed up as she was.
Jemma thought there was a certain amount of irony to the whole thing because from everything she knew about Arianna, when she was eighteen, she wasn’t all that different than Jemma—the poor little rich girl, trying to figure out what in life was more important than the next party or getting drunk.
But Arianna had changed. Everyone had seen it. Everyone would talk about it for years to come, and even though Jemma couldn’t remember everything about Ari, she remembered the important parts—how much Arianna had loved her and that Jemma had been important to her.
Jemma thought about going into Kylie’s room to see if she wanted to play a game or something, but then at the last minute she knew she couldn’t bear to do that to her. Instead, she crawled under her covers and waited for the house to go dark.
She debated about leaving a note, but in the end, she just grabbed the backpack and her purse—tucking a few last things into the pockets—the necklace from Kylie, her phone and a small stack of photos she kept in the drawer of her desk. She removed the house key from her key ring, placing it on her dresser—making a statement, she supposed.
When Dex texted her that he was down the street, she quietly slipped down the hallway, at the last minute putting her things down outside of Kylie’s door to go in and give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.
She slipped out the front door, put her backpack on, and walked down the driveway without looking back.
Chapter 9
Jemma sat up quickly, nearly knocking her head on the coffee table she seemed to practically be sleeping under. It took her a full minute to remember where she was and why she was sleeping on the floor alongside about a dozen other people. Her stomach lurched as she stood up to make her way to find a bathroom. God, how much did I have to drink last night? She rubbed her head, trying to recall what had happened after she and Dex had arrived in LA.
She remembered being freezing cold by the time they’d made the two-hour trip on Dex’s motorcycle. And then, once they’d gotten close, they had a horrible time finding the apartment, as Andrea’s directions scribbled on a napkin for Dex hadn’t gotten them anywhere remotely close to where she was living. Jemma remembered feeling extremely frustrated by the time they finally arrived at the apartment and the party that was in full swing at three o’clock in the morning.
There was no sleeping at that point. Besides, after the day that she’d had, she needed a drink or two and welcomed the shots of vodka being thrust into her hand by Andrea. She vaguely remembered Andrea giving her a tour of the place, but now that she was up in the light of day she couldn’t remember it at all.
After finding the bathroom—and stepping over someone who’d apparently passed out while being sick in the toilet—she had a look around as she made her way to the kitchen with hopes of finding some coffee to make. The place was filthy. She couldn’t help thinking it. She tried to talk herself out of being so judgmental—after all, not everyone had grown up with housekeepers and a mother who was a slightly neurotic neat freak—but the place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.
The kitchen wasn’t any better than the bathroom and living room she’d just walked through, and she was sure that the party last night had added to the massive stack of dishes and open containers of food that she saw everywhere. She opened a few cupboards in the hopes of finding some coffee to go with the semi-used-looking coffee pot she found in the corner on the kitchen counter. Nothing. Finally she thought to open the freezer and found one little bit of a bag of generic coffee. Perfect.
She stared out at the living room while she waited for the coffee to brew. She couldn’t even make out Dex’s body in the sea of bodies lying around the living room sofas and floor. Good grief. It looked like a scene out of some comedy movie involving frat boys and girls gone wild. People were in various states of dress and she noticed at least a couple of girls without their tops on. God help her if she ever woke up half naked in a room full of people.
She filled a cup that she’d washed from the sink, and after taking a tentative whiff of the milk from the refrigerator decided that this might be the day that she started drinking her coffee black.
Just as she was debating where she should try to find someplace to sit, she saw Andrea enter the hallway from the bathroom.
“Oh, hey. You’re up early,” Andrea said, looking a bit crazy and disheveled. “That was some rager last night. I’m so glad you and Dex made it.”
“I guess so. I can’t even remember half of it, to be honest. And my head is hurting me.” Jemma laughed lightly, feeling slightly awkward now in this strange place with someone she barely knew. “I hope you don’t mind. I really needed some caffeine and I found some in the freezer. There’s plenty there if you want a cup.”
Andrea was shaking her head as she opened the refrigerator to pull out a can of beer. “Not until after I have at least two of these. For some reason that always seems to help my hangover.” She laughed and then started coughing uncontrollably. When she could finally speak, she started walking across the room, motioning for Jemma to follow. “We can sit out on the balcony.”
“Great.” Jemma followed her out onto a very small balcony with two worn lawn chairs and a plastic table.
Andrea flipped open a pack of cigarettes that she’d grabbed off the table on her way out, offering one to Jemma.
“No thanks. I need to just sip some of this coffee first.” Jemma looked out, accessing her surroundings for the first time in the light of day. She was definitely far from her home on the beach. She felt a quick pang of something inside her. Regret? She brushed it aside.
Andrea lit up and took a long drag as she seemed to be studying Jemma. “So, Dex says you’ve left home for good then?”
“Yeah, well, that’s the plan.” Jemma didn’t know why exactly, but she felt like crying. And she really didn’t feel like discussing her problems with Andrea at the moment.
“Well, you guys can stay here for awhile. There’s four of us here right now, but you’re welcome to the sofas. And then it would be great if you could pitch in some rent money in a few days too.”
Jemma thought Andrea seemed to be eye
ing her with some skepticism.
“Yeah, for sure.” But just as fast as the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she didn’t have more than forty dollars on her. Chase had always given her cash each week as part of her allowance, and she really hadn’t even stopped to think about what she was going to do about money until her birthday next month—until the trust went into effect. She wouldn’t worry about that now. Dex usually had plenty of cash on him and she didn’t ask questions about where it came from.
“So, I know your family is rich and everything, but Dex says that you’re about to inherit a bunch of money. Next month, is it?”
Wow. Jemma really couldn’t believe that Dex had told this girl who was a stranger to her about her trust. How annoying. She wondered for a moment why he’d done so, but just as quickly put it down to his just telling the info as if it was something to know about his girlfriend. She had never really gotten the impression that he cared so much about her money, but time would tell, she guessed. Money did strange things to relationships. She’d seen that a bit with her mother over the years as old friendships faded away for new ones to take their place.
She turned her attention back to Andrea. “Yeah, I’m going to get a bit of money when I turn eighteen.” She saw the question on Andrea’s face. “It’s from an old friend of the family’s—I knew her when I was very young.”
“That’s pretty fantastic.” Andrea took a big puff on her cigarette. “It must be nice.”
Jemma looked up at her as she continued.
“To not have to worry about anything, I mean.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that. I definitely have my share of problems right now. Problems that won’t be solved by money,” she added.
Andrea seemed to be eyeing her with that look again. If Jemma were being skeptical, she’d swear the girl was judging her—which seemed a bit ludicrous to her, considering Andrea’s own apparent circumstances.
“Well, you don’t seem like someone who has many problems to me.” Andrea seemed to be forcing a laugh.
“Well, looks can be deceiving.” Jemma sighed. She really wanted to change the subject and talk about something other than herself. “So what do you usually do for fun around here?”
“Oh, you know. See what the guys are up to—once everyone wakes up, which by the looks of things could be many hours from now. At some point I have to go out and make some money.” Andrea laughed. “Rent is coming due soon and right now I’ve got maybe fifty bucks.”
Jemma swore that the look Andrea was giving her was daring her to ask questions.
“Oh, so what do you do? For work, I mean?”
Andrea took a swig of her beer. “You mean Dex didn’t tell you?”
Jemma shook her head. “No, honestly, Dex and I haven’t had much of a chance to talk about much these past few days at all.”
“Well, let’s just say that I do what I have to do.”
There was that look again. Jemma tried to imagine what she was insinuating and wondered if she should press further. Andrea seemed to be enjoying her discomfort—as if she wanted to talk about it—perhaps wanting to make their apparent differences that much more known. Jemma would take the bait.
She took a sip of her coffee and tried to make her voice sound nonchalant. “So, what exactly does that mean? Are you some big drug dealer or something?” She laughed, trying to make the point that she was joking.
Andrea laughed. “I wish. That would be easy money.”
Jemma waited for her to continue.
“Okay, not really, but it’s not something I’d turn down if I got into the right circles. So far, that’s not really happened—what with these lowlifes I’ve been hanging around.”
Jemma thought the description of Andrea’s so-called friends seemed ironic, but then again maybe that was how Andrea meant it. It was funny because even though her impression of the girl hadn’t been great, she had the distinct feeling that she was very smart. Not unlike what her mom and Chase were constantly telling Jemma—that she needed to push more to live up to her potential, to her talents. Jemma shook her head as if that could remove the thoughts she was suddenly having about her family.
She turned her attention back to Andrea. “Okay, so what are you saying? You have a pimp or something?”
“No. God, no. Well, no pimp anyway. I’ve tried hard to avoid that because I’ve got a few friends that have gotten themselves into some shady situations.” She eyed Jemma before she continued. “But you know. I do things on my own terms. Only when it works for me. And it’s not like I’m standing out on the street corners or anything. At least that’s a rare occasion.” She laughed lightly.
God, so she was prostituting herself. Jemma really didn’t know what to think, but it made her feel sick all of the sudden. She was trying to keep a straight face because at this point, after only just arriving at Andrea’s, she didn’t need the girl to think that she was there to be a judgmental prude or anything.
“Okay. And you think that is safe?” Jemma finally managed.
“Yeah. Well, as safe as anything these days, I guess.” Andrea laughed again, taking a final gulp of her beer. “Mostly the guys I’m with are people I kinda know.” She looked over, and Jemma guessed she could see the question on her face without her having to ask it. “You know—a word-of-mouth kinda thing.”
Andrea stood up then and opened the screen door to the inside of the apartment. “Look, Jemma. I don’t mind you being here, but I really don’t wanna feel like you’re living off of us for free and I certainly don’t wanna feel like you’re better than me—better than all of us.”
Jemma was taken aback as to where Andrea’s words—her feelings—were coming from. She really hadn’t thought that she’d said anything that could be construed as judgmental—well, not out loud anyway. She turned slightly in her chair to face Andrea. “No, Andrea. You got it wrong. I don’t feel that way. Not at all.” But do I? “And of course I expect to contribute rent money. Dex and I both will. You don’t need to worry about that, okay?”
Andrea nodded her head. “Okay.” She seemed thoughtful for a few seconds. “Look, I’m sorry. I can get a little defensive sometimes. And sometimes, a lot of stuff goes on in my head. I do like you. So I’m not sure where all that came from. My own issues, I suppose.” She laughed lightly. “Let’s just forget I said any of that okay.”
Jemma nodded her head. “No worries.”
And then she was alone on the balcony.
Chapter 10
Jemma only had a few minutes to herself after Andrea left the balcony before Dex was out there thrusting her ringing phone at her.
“Dude, your phone’s been ringing off the hook.” Dex coughed and Jemma thought he looked the roughest she’d ever seen him.
“Dude?” Jemma laughed.
“Yeah, dude.” Dex laughed and leaned over as if to try to kiss Jemma.
Jemma leaned far back from him before his lips could make contact with her.
“Dude, I think you better go brush your teeth first.” She laughed but she was thinking that they both could use a shower sooner rather than later.
“Well, aren’t you Little Miss High and Mighty this morning? You weren’t complaining about my kisses last night.” Dex sat down in the chair next to her, pulling a cigarette out from the pack in his jeans pocket.
Jemma leaned over to brush her lips across Dex’s cheek. “Is that so? I hardly remember, to be honest.” She eyed him as he took a long puff from his cigarette. “I’m not sure that we should be partying like that every night. Just to be clear.”
Dex gave her a long look, and the stern line of his mouth didn’t flinch. “Babe, I don’t need a mother, okay? I’m totally cool with what Andrea and these guys have going on here. If you’re not…”
Jemma felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “If I’m not, then what?”
“Well. I’m just saying—no one is going to force you to stay here. You can always go running back home to Mommy.”
&
nbsp; Jemma took a deep breath. She really wanted to lighten the mood. She punched Dex lightly on the arm. “Hey, I’m cool. You don’t need to worry about me going home—or going anywhere right now for that matter. Look, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything, okay, babe?”
She hated how she sounded. When had she started sounding so apologetic? So needy?
Dex leaned over to kiss her full on the lips. “Good.”
Jemma kissed him back while at the same time stopping his hand from traveling further than where it was already placed on the inside of her thigh. “Easy there, tiger. We’ve got a bit of an audience stirring inside.”
Dex gave her one more hard kiss and relented as he sat back to finish his cigarette.
Jemma sipped the last of her coffee as she looked through her missed calls and texts. She had ten missed calls from her mother, three from Chase, and three from her grandmother. Her heart beat fast as she noticed the name Gram on her phone. What did she even call her grandmother now—Linda? It was all still so surreal. She could see that she also had messages but she wasn’t quite ready to hear her mother’s voice. Instead, she started flipping through her texts, which had begun to come in around six o’clock that morning.
Her mom had texted first.
Jemma, this isn’t funny. Where are you?
Followed by a text from Chase twenty minutes later.
J, call your mother. Not cool.
There were a few more after that, and then Jemma detected a distinct change in the tone of her mother’s notes.