by Shana Norris
“Trent?” Jude corrected.
I nodded. “Yeah, him. I met all of them at the party, but it’s all a blur in my mind.”
A bird let out a call somewhere in the neighborhood and then another bird answered back. Jude stayed silent, staring up at the shirt over us.
“You don’t have to go,” I said. “Ashton and Kate just wanted me to ask you, so I’m asking. You can say no. It’s fine.”
“I can’t say no,” Jude said. “It’s against rule number two.” He turned his head and winked at me.
“Ashton and Kate scare you?” I asked, laughing.
“Most people scare me.”
I rolled onto my side, facing him. “Even me?”
He rolled toward me so that our noses were only inches apart. I could feel the tickle of his breath across my chin and see every line in his tanned skin and the tiny splash of freckles across his nose.
“Maybe,” he said, his eyes locked with mine. “I haven’t figured it out yet.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Havig good tim in Paris!! City of lov and lits!!
I stared at my cell phone for a full minute, rereading the words. Each time, my gaze stuck on the misspellings.
What are you doing? I texted back.
Mom’s response came two minutes later. Havin diner with Tess. Mmm!
Are you drunk?
Of couse not. Ive had 2 coktalls.
Coktalls? Mom, you’re drunk. How much have you had this week?
Three minutes passed before Mom responded. I could imagine her making up an excuse to Tess to leave the table in order to avoid making a scene in front of her friend.
Hav you beeen talking to yor aunt? Lydiaa alwas insits I’m an alcoolic.
I was tired of trying to decipher Mom’s drunk texts. I pressed the call button on the screen under her number.
It rang five times before Mom finally answered. “Bonjour!” she crooned, giggling into the phone.
“Mom,” I whispered. I pushed the door shut so Aunt Lydia wouldn’t hear my side of the conversation. “Do you realize how drunk you are?”
“Two cocktails, Hannah!” Mom groaned. “You’re acting like Lydia. I knew it was a bad idea to let you spend the summer with her. She’s already brainwashing you, turning you against me.”
“Aunt Lydia isn’t doing anything,” I said. “I can see and hear the evidence for myself.”
“Just a minute, Tess! Don’t have dessert without me.” I held the phone away from my ear while Mom shrieked with laughter on the other end. I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror across the room, noticing the annoyed scowl on my face.
“Mom,” I said through clenched teeth. “Where are you?”
“At the restaurant in our hotel,” Mom slurred.
“Good,” I said. “Go upstairs and go to bed.”
“The night is young and we’re in Paris!” Mom exclaimed. In my mind, I saw the looks of the other diners, the ones I had spent my life pretending I didn’t see whenever Mom had one too many drinks over dinner. She was rigid and controlled when sober, but all of her rules went out the window once she started on her cocktails.
Mom made such a big deal about image and being perfect, but we all knew her dirty secret. At parties or at dinners, she let the alcohol take over and break down that perfectly coiffed image.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Just don’t wake up in some alley in Paris.”
Mom’s laugh was the last thing I heard as I pressed the END button.
As I tossed the phone onto the bed next to me, I realized that Mom had never thought to ask how I was doing and hadn’t even mentioned Dad.
I pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes until I saw bursts of color behind my eyelids. I had a sudden urge for home. But not the home that would be waiting for me when I got there. I wanted the home I used to have, the little house in the suburbs, across the street from Avery and next door to Elliott. I wanted sleepovers in Avery’s room, giggling into our sleeping bags until her mom came in to tell us to go to sleep. I wanted dares from Elliott, the craziest things he could think of to get us to do. I wanted to be too young to know about bad things, too young to worry.
I picked up my phone, my finger hovering over the screen. I knew the number. It hadn’t changed and it was still imprinted in my memory, even though it had been more than four years since I’d dialed it.
But I couldn’t get myself to make the call. What would I say to Avery? My ex-best friend was now dating my ex-boyfriend. I was supposed to hate them. Anything I had left to say to Avery was better off unspoken. I doubted she would understand this homesickness that had settled over me. She seemed happy now. Why would she miss the past?
I turned the phone off completely. I didn’t want anymore texts from my mom or anyone else.
#
I found Aunt Lydia watching TV in the living room.
“I thought you were supposed to be painting,” I said as I sat down next to her.
Aunt Lydia shrugged as she channel surfed, her thumb holding the button down on the remote so that the TV flicked continuously from one show to another. A cartoon about talking cats, a commercial for a fiber cereal with a couple that looked too happy for all that fiber they were eating, a rerun of a TV western, a reality show with people covered in mud.
“I couldn’t get anything out today,” she said.
“You just pick up a paintbrush and go,” I said. “How hard can it be?”
“Spoken like a non-artist,” Aunt Lydia said with a sigh. “You’ve always been too practical for the creative arts, haven’t you? You’re like your parents in that way.”
I stiffened at her words. “What do you mean?”
“Your mom never had time for art,” Aunt Lydia said. “She always thought it was a waste of time. She liked practical things, things that she thought had value right now. Most artists will never be rich or well-known. Not until we’re dead, anyway. Marilyn thought it was better to focus on things that meant something now. She never had the patience for creative work.”
Aunt Lydia reached over and pushed a lock of my hair over my shoulder. “I see a lot of that in you. The way you always try to be the best at everything you do. The top grades in your class, the awards, the clubs. It’s all so concrete. Something you can look at and say you’ve succeeded because you earned a crown or a certificate. You’ve never spent much time on things that don’t get you accolades right away.”
I bit my lip as I absorbed Aunt Lydia’s words. She made it all sound pointless. Like the work I’d done to get to where I was, tied for the number one spot in my class and president of several clubs, was all for nothing because it wasn’t something creative. I didn’t use the part of my brain that Aunt Lydia preferred. I was as left-brained as my parents.
“I’ve worked really hard,” I said. “Maybe I’m not painting masterpieces or writing great literature, but I’ve done a lot for myself.”
Aunt Lydia’s forehead scrunched into a frown. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was belittling your work. I know you’ve worked hard, and I’m proud of everything you’ve done. But maybe you work too hard at being this ideal student that you don’t let yourself have fun like you should.” She put the remote down and took my hands in hers. “I saw the way your mother was when we were growing up. And I saw how your dad threw himself into his work. A part of me is terrified you’ll end up the same way they are. That if you don’t give yourself time to be creative and draw outside the lines, you’ll deal with it the same way your parents do, through alcohol and prescription drugs.”
I opened my mouth to say my mother wasn’t an alcoholic, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Be as successful as you want to be, Hannah,” Aunt Lydia went on. “Get all the awards. Be valedictorian of your class and go to Yale. But every now and then, take the time to let your guard down and be free.”
It was the same thing Mark had told me. Step outside my comfort zone and be someone else for a change. Even Zac had to
ld me that several times during our relationship. At home, my parents always told me I wasn’t perfect enough. I needed to be the best, stomp the competition in everything I did. All of the awards were never enough, there was always something else I needed to work for.
But I was here in Asheville and not in Paris. That was something.
“Did you ever call your dad?” Aunt Lydia asked.
I avoided her gaze. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Hannah,” Aunt Lydia said. “You have to speak to him at some point.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really have anything to say.”
“Then let him do the talking. He owes you an apology, at least. Give him the chance to give you that.”
I pulled my hands from her grasp and stood. “You should go paint,” I told her.
“Yes, Mom,” Aunt Lydia joked. “Promise me you’ll call your dad.”
“I promise,” I told her.
But I didn’t tell her that keeping promises had never been something I was good at. Maybe I was too much like my parents.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
I looked over at Jude, who sat in the driver seat of his truck, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He stared out the windshield at Papa Gino’s in front of us. I’d gotten a text message from Ashton only ten minutes ago letting me know that she, Kate, Carter, and their friends already waited for us inside.
We had been sitting in the parking lot for almost three minutes, and yet, neither of us had made any movement to get out of the truck.
“I know,” Jude said. “But I probably should do it.”
I waited, but still Jude didn’t move. The fact that he had made it all the way to the restaurant was a big step, but still, at some point we needed to get out of the truck or else we’d look like crazy people sitting out here in the parking lot.
“How well do you know all of them?” I asked.
Jude shrugged. “They were a couple grades below me in school. Liam was really the one who knew everyone. I just kind of knew them by association.”
“Didn’t you have any friends of your own?” I joked.
“Not really.” Jude’s expression was still solemn. “My friends were all Liam’s friends. Everyone really liked him. They just put up with me because of Liam.”
“That can’t be true,” I said. “I never met your brother and I like you.”
My words hung in the air between us in the silence of the truck cab. A car rumbled as it passed by in search of a parking space, the lights flashing across Jude’s face.
“I mean,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m your friend, and you got to know me all on your own.”
Jude rubbed his bottom teeth across his lip. He seemed to be considering my words as he studied the diner again. At last he nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
The evening was still warm and sticky with the heat rising from the asphalt around us. We crunched across tiny rocks and broken glass toward the restaurant. Jude opened the door and stepped back to allow me to enter first. I wasn’t sure if he was just being a gentleman or if he didn’t want to lead the way.
Ashton spotted me first. “Hannah! Over here!” She stood up, waving as if I might not see her bright orange hair through the few patrons inside.
I held my shoulders back, trying to pull just a little of the Cohen confidence into me. I knew I wasn’t supposed to follow the rules this summer, but they had their usefulness in some situations.
“Hi,” I greeted everyone.
“Hey,” Kate said. Her eyes darted to Jude, who stood just behind me. “Hey, Jude.” She smiled awkwardly at him.
Jude nodded. “Hi.”
We sat down at the last two seats, which were across from each other.
“Hannah, you remember Carter?” Ashton asked. Carter sat next to her, so close they almost could have been sharing the same drink. She widened her eyes at me for a moment, then went on. “And Syke, Nadia, and Trent.”
I barely remembered the other three from the party in the valley. I had been introduced to them at some point during the night, but they hadn’t made much of an impression on me, other than Syke’s blue-tipped faux hawk.
“Hi again,” I greeted them, pulling on my dad’s “everyone is a friend until they make themselves your enemy” charm.
Mama Rita came over to take our orders. “So good to see you!” she greeted me. “And you!” She wrapped her arms around Jude’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “You haven’t been to visit us in a while.”
Jude ducked his head. “I know. I’m sorry, Mama Rita.”
“You should come more often,” she scolded him. “We worry about you. Well.” Mama Rita looked around at the rest of us expectantly. “Are you ready to order?”
We gave our orders and Mama Rita collected the menus. Once she was gone, the table fell silent again.
As each second ticked by, the silence became even more noticeable. Ashton swirled her ice around her glass with her straw. Kate shifted in her seat. Syke crunched on a cracker. Carter coughed.
I kept my eyes on the napkin that was rolled around my silverware as I tried to think of something to say. Every speech I’d ever done for various clubs and award acceptances flashed through my head. But none of it was anything that would be helpful in this situation. I could debate and campaign, but I hadn’t really mastered the art of social interaction.
My gaze lifted and met Jude’s. He gave me a half-smile.
“So, um,” Carter said, “Hannah, where did you say you’re from?”
Ashton cast a grateful look at him.
“Willowbrook,” I answered. “It’s in the eastern part of the state. Little town between Greenville and New Bern. Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of it.”
Nadia nodded. “I think I’ve been through there on the way to—”
“The beach,” we said at the same time.
I laughed. “That’s the only time anyone goes through it. Not a lot to see in Willowbrook. Thankfully, we’re not too far of a drive to other places.”
Silence descended on the table. I glanced at the door to the kitchen. How long before Mama Rita brought our food? At least we wouldn’t have to attempt to make conversation while we ate.
I saw Ashton nudge Carter from the corner of my eye. He coughed and then said, “Um, so, Jude, you working anywhere?”
Jude looked at Carter as if the question startled him. Everyone else at the table exchanged worried looks.
“No,” Jude answered, his gaze locked on Carter. “I’m still looking.”
“There’s our food!” Ashton exclaimed as Mama Rita carried a big tray toward us. She looked relieved and started talking excitedly about how good everything looked. She grinned too wide and talked too loud, as if trying to make up for the tension in the air.
Somehow, we made it through the meal. Keeping our mouths stuffed meant we didn’t have to talk as much, so everyone focused on their own plate. Every bite was hard to swallow and sat like a lump in my stomach.
“So, um, has anyone started applying to college?” I asked halfway through the meal, just to break the silence.
Syke groaned. “I don’t even want to think about that right now.”
“This is our last summer of freedom,” Nadia said. “Can you believe that next summer we’ll be getting ready to go off to college? Everything will be so different. Who knows how many more times we’ll have nights like this, just hanging out with nothing else to do.”
“If we even get into college, you mean,” Ashton said with a loud sigh.
“You’ll get in,” Carter told her. “You’re an amazing artist. They’d be stupid to say no.”
Ashton’s cheeks turned red and she ducked her head as she smiled. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Where are you applying to, Hannah?”
I took a sip of my water before answering. “I haven’t decided yet. My parents want me to go to Yale.”
“I’m a
pplying to UConn,” Trent said with a wide grin at me. “We’d be almost neighbors. We could hang out some on weekends.”
Jude shifted a bit across from me. I glanced at him just in time to see him shoot an annoyed scowl toward Trent, but it was gone so quickly I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it.
I nodded. “That would be great. I’m not sure if I’m applying there though. Maybe I’ll change my mind. Somewhere small and quiet, less pressure to be the best.” I clamped my mouth shut. I was saying too much, getting too close to personal. Time to get the focus off me. I nudged Jude’s foot under the table. “What about you? Any college plans in your future?”
I sensed that I had asked the wrong question right away. No one moved or barely even breathed.
Jude chewed silently for a moment, then wiped his mouth. At last, he met my eyes, which contained a sad, haunted look in them, and said, “I haven’t decided yet.”
After that, the conversation ended. The tension remained as we all finished our meals.
“Dessert?” Syke asked, raising his eyebrows.
“The tiramisu is so good,” Nadia said.
I looked at Jude, who looked like he was on the verge of making a dash toward the door. “I promised my aunt I wouldn’t be out too late,” I said.
“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Ashton said. “Lydia’s cool like that. I’ll call her.”
I shot Ashton a quick look and said, “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty tired anyway.”
“Let me take you home,” Jude said, standing so quickly that his chair screeched across the floor.
I smiled at everyone. “It was fun. We should do this again.” If I ever want another hour of torture, I added silently.
Ashton gave me a half smile, but she said, “Thanks for coming. It was great to see you again, Jude.”
Jude nodded, tossed down some money for our meals, and then led the way out of the restaurant.
#
He let out a deep breath once we were back in his truck.
“That bad?” I asked, grinning at him.