by Zoë Marshall
“Yes, that Cole character and I are going to see that new zombie movie,” Sutton replied, putting on her best Justine impression when she said his name.
“Great…. Just what you need, more filth in that head of yours.”
Sutton chose to ignore the ridiculous jab. “I’ll come down in a bit. I need to finish a few things up here.”
Justine nodded slightly. “You have five minutes. Not a second more.”
Sutton stuck her tongue out and slammed the door after her mother turned to walk away. Justine ignored it, which was unlike her since door slamming was a huge pet peeve of hers.
Sutton sighed and sat down on her bed. She shook off the unpleasant interaction. Only three more days until you finally get to leave this place and never look back.
After a few more moments of contemplating her glorious escape and the exciting new journey she was about to embark upon, she decided she should get the whole parental conversation over with. She stood up and reluctantly walked downstairs. The Meyers Mansion, as it was called by virtually everyone in San Francisco, took up half a city block in Presidio Heights. It had its own parking lot, filled with at least a dozen expensive cars, from the Lexus SUV they took to school functions to the Shelby GT her dad only drove a few times in the summer, always with the top down. But mostly they were for show, like his wealthy status wasn’t already obvious enough.
The mansion was four stories high. The first floor was devoted solely to the security office and various vintage arcade games. The second contained a ballroom and a good-sized movie theater/TV room filled with La-Z-Boy Recliners. On the third were the kitchen and three living rooms. And the fourth floor was where all eight bedrooms were, each with its own bathroom.
It was a dream house, but Sutton really couldn’t have cared less. She entered the largest of the living rooms on the third floor and saw her parents sitting together on the giant leather couch, looking at her disapprovingly, which she was used to at this point.
Scott Meyers was one of the wealthiest men in San Francisco, and honestly didn’t have to do much to earn that status. He did work as a highly-paid criminal lawyer, but the bulk of the Meyers fortune came from his mother, who went by the pen name Genevieve Donovan. Genevieve Donovan was a household name, and could be found on the bookshelves of virtually every woman’s home, seeing as she was one of the highest-selling authors ever to see the light of day. She wrote what Sutton liked to refer to as Sex-Ridden Crime Fiction. Sutton was a very avid reader, but had only ever been able to stomach half of one of her grandmother’s many books. She, of course, lied to her grandmother and said she had read multiple books and loved them all, but what else was she supposed to say?
Scott cleared his throat and Sutton shifted her gaze to him. He was a typical lawyer type, with short, well-groomed hair and an all-too-serious demeanor. He was much older than Justine and hadn’t had any plastic surgery of his own, so he had many wrinkles on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. Sutton liked to call them worry lines.
The moment Scott had seen his first grey hair, he’d freaked out and begun dying it regularly, so now it was always a much darker shade than his eyebrows. He wore a suit everywhere he went, even around the house. Sutton had actually rarely ever seen him wearing anything else. He had small, beady eyes that looked almost black in their coldness. And though many people found him charming, he was pretty much the opposite to Sutton.
“Sit down,” Scott demanded.
Sutton obeyed. Not out of fear, but out of the need to shorten the talk as much as possible.
“I pulled a few favors for you earlier today,” he began.
Sutton wondered what sort of favors her father could have pulled that she would possibly be interested in. “Such as?”
“I spoke with an old friend from Harvard,” he continued.
Sutton rolled her eyes. “I leave for college in three days, dad.”
“Correction: you leave for that liberal excuse for a college in three days,” Scott replied in a condescending tone.
“I’m not having this argument again. It’s happened so many times that I almost have it memorized.”
“You’ll sit there and hear your father out, young lady,” Justine chimed in.
“I don’t need your approval. Either of you. I’m not using your money, so why do you even care?”
“Why do we even care?” Scott bellowed. “We care because every cent we put into your education was a complete waste. We care because you’re our daughter and we want you to have a good life.”
“Your definition of a good life and mine are completely different. You guys don’t get me—never have, never will. Have either of you ever even been passionate about anything other than money?”
Scott and Justine had stunned looks on their faces as Sutton stood up and rushed out of the room, without even allowing them a response to her rhetorical question. She stormed up the stairs and back into her room, then grabbed her phone from the desk and sent Cole a text:
I have to get the hell out of this monstrosity of a house. I’m coming over.
COLE DIDN’T REALLY care much for soup—he wanted to eat his food, not drink it—but tonight that was all he could find in his tiny kitchen. The kitchen could only fit one person at a time, and even then it was hard to maneuver in it. He rummaged around the various drawers until he finally found a can opener, and paused for a moment, staring at it for no particular reason. Then he shifted his gaze to the can.
Cream of chicken. Cole didn’t really like chicken. He thought it was bland and dry. He was actually an incredibly picky eater, which drove Sutton crazy, since she was so big on cooking. But ever since middle school he had been raised with only a few key items in the kitchen, mostly consisting of frozen meals, like corn dogs and White Castle burgers. Frozen pizzas, too. And they occasionally had treats like Top Ramen and Cheez-Its.
As he began to open the can, he heard his dad clearing his throat near the entrance. Cole paused mid-opening to turn and look at him. Ralph Hansen wasn’t the intimidating type. He was one of those I’d never hurt a fly kind of guys, tall and lanky, but with a big round face and a permanent 7 o’clock shadow. His eyes were kind and a soft hazel, always drooping a bit, as if he was perpetually tired. He was an auto mechanic and usually dressed in oil- and dirt-covered overalls, with steel-toed boots. His smile was rare, mostly because in the seven years since his wife cheated and left, he had been devastated. He hadn’t even dated since then. She had been the love of his life, and he had given up ever trying to find a new one.
“What’s the deal with the soup? I was going to make Hamburger Helper tonight. That cheeseburger one. Your favorite.” Cole and his dad were incredibly close, seeing as they had been the ones to attempt to piece together the wreckage Cole’s mom had left behind.
“Me and Sutton are going to a movie. I’m pretty starving, so I figured I’d eat a little bit before I head out. Popcorn might not cut it tonight.”
“Ah, I see. Well, have fun. You’ll be missing out on the UFC fight tonight. I’ll record it for you.”
“Thanks, dad.” Cole turned back to the can of soup, which was partially open, and shook his head a bit. Apparently he was over it. It was a surprisingly hot day in the city and soup was one of the worst things Cole could think to eat at that moment. Popcorn it was. He thought to himself that extra butter should make it more filling. And maybe some milk duds. He liked to melt them onto the popcorn. Because what was better than salt and sweet melted together? Nothing, really.
Ralph squeezed into the tiny kitchen to grab a Bud Light from the fridge, then headed back toward their man cave of a living room. The house was more often on the messy side. Cole guessed that was what happened when two guys cohabitated.
Cole removed the opener and placed some plastic wrap around the can, then put it into the fridge behind a giant package of American cheese slices and a jar of pickles. He walked back to his room and sat on his twin bed. The room was so small, the bed barely fit. Luckily C
ole didn’t have much stuff.
His chipped green walls were cluttered with football posters and his dresser was topped with various trophies his team had won over the years. Football was sort of what had saved Cole after his mother left. It was what he could channel his hurt and anger into. It was what made him a stronger player, and a stronger person in general.
He was strong enough that he served as Sutton’s strength, to make it through all of her seemingly endless parental battles. She often needed to take shelter at Cole’s place because the fighting got so bad. It wasn’t always directed at her. Her parents fought with each other a lot as well. It was just a tense household. The Tension Mansion, as she liked to call it.
Cole lay down on his back and stared at the blank ceiling, contemplating being separated from Sutton in a few days. It would be an adjustment at first, but there was lot to look forward to—a fresh start and a new team. A new team where he would be living on the bench, but still a team.
Burlington University in Graten, Colorado, was famous for its football program, and being a freshman on the varsity team was exceedingly rare. A scout had happened to be at a game early on in Cole’s senior year and, by some random chance, the starting wide receiver had injured himself right before the game started, so Cole got to play the entire game. He’d been on fire that day. He hadn’t even known the scout was there, but it was the best he’d ever played. After the game, the scout had approached him and said he’d like Cole to come tour the campus and meet with the head football coach.
So he did, and he fell in love with the place. And though he didn’t end up receiving a football scholarship, he did get a bit of financial aid. It wouldn’t cover everything, so he was probably going to have to work during school, but Cole was used to it. He had been working since he was fifteen and able to get a work permit. Due to his tenure at Jamba Juice, he was quite the smoothie-making expert by now, though it wasn’t exactly the line of work he wanted to continue. He’d figure it out when he got to school. He was going to miss his old team though. He was so excited to be the only freshman to make the varsity football team freshman year of high school that he often wore his jersey around school, beaming with pride. He was a shy guy at heart, but something about that jersey made him feel … invincible or something.
Cole got up and opened his closet door. He was still wearing his gym clothes and, though he was too lazy to shower after his run, he was at least going to change into some clean clothes, to mask the uncleanliness below. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. He and Sutton spent the majority of their time together. Cole hadn’t had a girlfriend since Emily Johnson, sophomore year. She had been one of the popular girls and definitely acted like it. They’d only dated for a couple of months, and Sutton absolutely despised her. Emily was only dating him because he was on the football team and Sutton knew it. She was very protective of Cole, as he was of her. Cole still remembered the first day he’d met Emily, like it was yesterday….
Math class was finally over. Math was Cole’s least favorite subject and it was always the most painful hour of his day. He gathered his books and walked toward the gym. He had a free period next and was going to try to get in a quick run. As he approached the men’s locker room, he almost ran right into a girl he had never seen before.
The girl batted her long eyelashes and smiled sweetly. “Hey, you’re that football guy, aren’t you?”
Cole laughed nervously. “I guess so.”
“I’m Emily.” She held out her hand and he shook it.
“I’m Cole.”
Emily was as cute as they came, with curly red hair, deep green eyes, and lots of freckles. She had a little button nose and two tiny dimples on the left side of her small mouth. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and boots, with a loose red plaid flannel.
“I just transferred here from Lincoln.”
“Oh, yeah? I was wondering, since I haven’t seen you around. How do you like it here so far?”
“The people are really nice. And I like all of my classes.”
“What class do you have now?”
“I don’t. I have a free period.”
“I do too. Feel like going for a run?”
Just as Cole was putting on a white undershirt, he heard his text notification. He walked over to his desk and picked it up. It was Sutton:
I have to get the hell out of this monstrosity of a house. I’m coming over.
Cole felt awful about what Sutton always had to deal with at her house. Having a relationship like the one Cole had with his father was all Sutton had ever dreamed of. He knew that her parents never really approved of her, especially since she hadn’t applied to Harvard, but writing was her passion and Sutton was the kind of girl to follow her heart.
Cole and Sutton had the kind of friendship and connection that people envied. They knew each other so well they could finish each other’s sentences. They both had weird and somewhat dark senses of humor, and constantly made each other laugh. They opened up to each other about anything and everything. They had seen each other at their best and worst. And it was going to be hard on both of them to be apart for the next four years. They would be spending breaks and summers at home together, but it was going to be a big adjustment, going from seeing each other virtually every waking moment to only seeing each other every few months. But they’d agreed they would talk on the phone every day, so they could keep up with everything that was happening in each other’s lives.
Cole sat back down on the bed and scrolled through his Instagram feed. About fifteen minutes passed and he heard a knock on his door.
“Come on it, Sutt.”
Sutton opened the door and sat next to Cole on his bed.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“Everything okay?” Cole could sense when Sutton was feeling down and he knew the problems with her parents were only getting worse the closer it got to her leaving for college.
“I just can’t wait to be out of that house.”
“I know. Just think, in a few days you’ll be in a dining hall eating cheeseburgers in your pajamas with your dorm buddies.”
Sutton cracked a smile. “How can you always make me feel better?”
“It’s a gift.” Cole paused for a moment. “Did you not want to go to the movie? We can go get some greasy food instead, if that’ll make you feel better.”
“No, the movie will be good. Nothing like flesh being torn apart by human teeth to distract you from your evil parents.”
“Absolutely. There’s a 6:15 show. We can grab a bite before?”
“And ruin our extra-large, extra-butter popcorn with milk duds melted on it? I don’t think so.”
“Good point.”
“Race you to the car!” Sutton got up and rushed out of the room.
Cole shook his head and grabbed his wallet and keys as he walked out after her.
SUTTON WAS ECSTATIC as she loaded the last box into the backseat of her car, and thankful to have such a large SUV. She had decided to leave for college a couple days early, so that she could drive rather than fly and have to hire movers. Her parents thought she was crazy for driving, but she figured she could use the time to think anyway. The drive to Colorado was going to take at least eighteen hours, depending on how fast she drove. She had planned to stop halfway through to stay at a hotel. Cole was going to meet her there, seeing as the area they planned to stop at was on the way for him as well. That way they could have one last night to stay up and talk about the adventure they were about to embark upon, and reminisce about the one they were leaving behind.
Sutton wondered what she was going to do without Cole’s sarcastic teasing and never-ending moral support. Would she find a replacement? No, no one could replace the bond she had with Cole. He was her rock. And that rock was one of a kind.
“Sutton!” Justine yelled from the front door.
Sutton reluctantly turned to her. “Yes, mother?”
“Your father and I have something for you before you
leave.”
“Okay, I’ll be right in.” Sutton closed the car door and headed inside and up to the third floor. They were sitting in the same living room they always sat in, Scott in a suit, as usual, and Justine dressed head to toe in Lulu Lemon yoga clothing. Of course she bought the most expensive yoga outfits she could find.
Scott stood up and brought over a present wrapped in silver paper with a black bow.
“What’s this?” Sutton asked warily.
“Just open it,” Justine responded.
Sutton slowly began to unwrap the paper as her father sat back down next to her mother. She unwrapped the last of it and took a deep breath as she saw what was inside of the box.
“It’s an LSAT test book,” Scott said.
“I can see that. Why exactly are you giving me this?”
“I mean, obviously you’ll need a new edition every year, but this can at least teach you the fundamentals,” Scott replied.
“I’m speechless. Honestly.” This was crazy, even for Sutton’s parents.
“We just want you to be prepared, in case your little hobby doesn’t work out,” Scott said, in a demeaning tone.
“Umm … thanks?” Sutton replied, still stunned.
“Sutton, you need to think about your future. Being a struggling writer is a horrible goal to strive for. You don’t want to need a man to support you,” Justine added, feigning sensitivity.
Sutton couldn’t contain the laughter at the absolute absurdity of it all. “Really, mother? You don’t even have a job. Tell me more about not wanting to need a man to support you,” Sutton said sarcastically.
“Get out,” Justine ordered.
“Gladly.” Sutton didn’t feel particularly good about leaving things like this with her parents, but she also couldn’t stand another minute of their disapproval. This was her time to create her own identity, apart from her parents, apart from the pressure they were constantly smothering her with. She stormed off to the stairwell and walked out of the front door without looking back.