“I don’t have anything to do today, so I’ll tag along,” I said.
“Great!” Tris clapped and held up her hand for me to give her a high five. I sighed in relief because she didn’t hug me. After slapping my palm, she shot up from the bed and went over to Jo. She yanked away the blankets hiding her sister, who tried swatting her away. Tris gave Jo mercy and started to leave.
“I’ll be downstairs making breakfast,” Tris said.
With her mess of curly hair sticking to her face, Jo sat up and yawned. “Whatcha making?”
“Pancakes. You better hurry and get dressed before Beau eats them all.” Tris hurried away with Ziggy following her.
“Is she always hyper in the mornings?” I stood, stretching the kinks out of my arms and legs.
“Most mornings she gets up before dawn to run or takes a class at the gym.” Jo landed back on her bed.
“She’s not human.” I usually woke up before the sun rose but only because I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was lucky if I got four straight hours of sleep most days. Memories chased me in my dreams. I couldn’t even escape them there. It just wasn’t fair.
Jo closed her eyes again and started to snore lightly. Instead of waking her up again, I left the room, taking my cell with me. I used the bathroom and washed my face and hands. Peering out the window, the evidence of the rainstorm from yesterday had vanished. The sky was a bright blue, and summer still lingered, based on the sun’s heat warming the glass.
I should have showered and dressed before Jo did, but I had another habit I’d picked up over the past year to start my day. I walked down the stairs, and instead of going into the kitchen where I heard voices, I carefully opened the front door and stepped out on the porch. Then I went down the front steps and onto the front lawn. Wiggling my toes in the grass, I held out my arms and closed my eyes as I tipped my face up to the sky and slowly inhaled and exhaled ten times. A feeling of relaxation and calm came over me. When I finished, I opened my eyes, momentarily blinded by the sun. Not caring if I had witnesses, I sat down cross-legged on the grass and scrolled through the pictures on my cell, mainly of me and Matilda. I once had a bunch of pictures of me and Larissa on my phone, but I’d deleted them.
Matilda had texted me like she did every morning with smiley faces and cute emojis. I did the same and then called her. It had been three days since we’d seen each other. That last time she’d become emotional when we said goodbye. The longest we’d gone without seeing one another was a week at most, depending on vacations or holidays. The next time we saw one another would be at Christmas.
She hadn’t waited for my call. After three rings, her voicemail came on.
“Hey, Tilda. I thought I’d catch you this morning to tell you I’ve arrived at my aunt and uncle’s house. You’ll be happy to know I actually slept through the night and didn’t wake up until ten. A cat was my alarm. I’ll explain the cat next time we talk, so call me soon. Catch ya later.” I ended the call, the tension in my back rising. I used to tell Matilda I loved her. I would always end my calls or texts to her with those three words. Now the best I could do was a catch ya later.
Digging the heel of my palm into the middle of my forehead, I lowered my face to my lap. Closing my eyes, I listened to my breathing. I had become a big fan of meditation and deep breathing, including yoga whenever I found the time or the energy to do it. Maybe after visiting Tris’s sorority house, I could convince her and Jo to do yoga with me.
I couldn’t tell how long I did my exercises, but after a while I felt a shift in the air next to me and a presence. I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head, wiggling my toes and legs, which had pins and needles from staying cross-legged. I wouldn’t panic because I was safe, on my aunt and uncle’s front lawn.
Tris sat next to me, but with enough space between us. She balanced back on her palms with her legs straight in front of her.
“Nice morning to enjoy the sun before it gets too hot,” she said.
“You’re not going to ask why I’m sitting on your front lawn?” When I did it at my house, Dad would be confused and worried when he found me in the backyard. He didn’t understand my need for it.
“Nope. Unless you want to tell me.” She lowered her sunglasses. “Jo’s getting dressed. Want to eat my awesome pancakes first and then get dressed?”
“What makes your pancakes awesome?” I rose to my feet.
“They’re made with love.” She jumped to her feet and walked away.
Aunt Eloise stood behind the screen door, and she opened the door for us. I expected her to question me, but she didn’t say anything.
Tris was right about her pancakes being awesome. They were some of the best I’d ever had. My first morning in Albee was off to a good start.
“SO, WHAT do you think? Some house, huh?” Jo stared up at the ceiling overhead as if seeing it for the first time.
“Pretty cool,” I said. The huge foyer was surrounded by beautiful woodwork and panels. In front of me, a large staircase led up to the second floor. Off to the left side was a sitting area in front of a fireplace, and behind it a doorway into a hall. A huge chandelier hung overhead in the middle of the foyer, and the walls around it held more pictures and photographs, including homemade paddles from past classes.
“Alpha Gamma Pi is celebrating their forty-fourth year. As the second oldest sorority at the school, we’ve had this house for over thirty years. An AGP alumna paid off the mortgage on the house, and other alumnae donated room and board to any AGP sister who needs it.” Tris stood near the base of the stairs and patted the banister. “It’s the only three-story house on the street.”
“How many live here?” I checked the photos from years past showing off many happy women.
“We have fifty-five sisters total, with around forty living here. There are two to a room, with the exception of our president, Arielle,” Tris pointed out.
“Arielle is the dean’s daughter,” Jo whispered to me.
“That’s not the reason Arielle is president. She deserves the position because she’s an amazing person and a born leader.” Tris sent Jo a pissed look. “I’ll make sure to introduce you to her,” she said to me.
Jo stuck her tongue out at Tris. “Arielle’s younger brother is a sophomore and totally hot. But he’s white, and she’s black. He’s adopted, and—”
“Josephine, shut your trap.” Tris stomped toward Jo with her hand raised. Jo rushed out of the room, almost running into a group of girls wearing AGP T-shirts.
“I’m going to kill her,” Tris said through gritted teeth.
A small laugh escaped my mouth. Tris, only a few years older than Jo, had more maturity and sophistication, which made sense as she had more life experiences. Jo still lived in an insulated bubble, like most people my age. As for me, I was in between. I had grown up too fast because of my assault, but I still wasn’t on Tris’s level. I would get along with both sisters because they each had something special that would help me move forward.
“Want to see my room?” Tris asked, already walking up the stairs.
“What about Jo?”
“She’ll find us eventually. She’s been here a bunch of times. She’s probably in the kitchen talking to some of my sisters or in back where some of the girls are gardening.” She waved me up.
She gave me a tour, saying hello to some girls in their rooms. She introduced me to most. I said hello back, quickly moving ahead. I didn’t want to get stuck in a conversation with strangers. It was bad enough that I had trouble talking to people I was close with. We reached the end of the hall and made a turn, passing more doors and a bathroom. Across from the bathroom was Tris’s room. The door was open, revealing furniture covered with sheets inside. A tall girl with a pink kerchief tied in her jet-black hair and wearing hip-hugging gray shorts and a matching tank top painted the back wall a light purple color.
“The color looks great, Nisha!” Tris clapped.
The girl turned and nodded. She had a pe
rky chest I’d die for and the longest legs I couldn’t help but stare at. She glanced past Tris at me. “Hey.”
I lifted my hand and nodded, hoping she didn’t notice my ogling.
“This is my cousin, Charlie. She’s going to be a senior with Jo at Albee High. She might come to Maison next year.” Tris motioned to the cute chick. “This is my roomie, Nisha. She’s a junior majoring in interior design. Her dream is to host her own show on HGTV.”
“I already have my own design show on YouTube with one hundred thousand viewers each month.” Nisha winked at me.
My face warmed at her friendliness. She had a beautiful smile that really brightened her face. This one was a beauty, and from her impish grin, she knew it.
She must have noticed my gawking, because more color came to her cheeks. “Tris recruited you to help us paint?”
“That’s why she asked me to visit.” I still hugged the doorway.
Nisha picked up a brush, waving it at me in a suggestive way that made me want to obey. “Come on in. I’ll show you what to do.”
I backed into the hallway. The room was stifling, and Nisha’s flirty, almost aggressive way made me nervous. My paranoia began to set in. I started to assume things about this woman, who was probably just being nice for Tris’s benefit.
Tris said my name loud enough to break through the static in my head. I pressed a hand to my cheek. My palm felt cold.
“I, ah, better go to the bathroom first before I start painting.” I darted into the bathroom.
Once the door closed, I leaned against it to catch my breath. My reactions to things and people, especially strangers, didn’t make any sense. I should be in a better place than this. But then again, I’d been a hermit for the past year, barely leaving the house unless it was to visit some lawyer’s office.
I shut my eyes and tried cooling off. Outside, I heard Nisha speaking and Tris responding, but their voices were muffled. After a few more minutes, I left the bathroom but didn’t go into Tris’s room. If I had some sort of pathetic panic attack now, I would never be able to show my face at AGP again.
Embarrassed by my stupid reaction, I walked down the hall. Maybe I would go downstairs and sit in the foyer. It was big enough that I would have space to breath and hopefully not freak out if I met more AGP sisters. After turning the corner, I spotted a door with an Exit sign above it, along with another sign with an arrow and Roof. My curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the door, showing the stairwell. When silence met me instead of an alarm system, I shut the door and took the stairs up another level until I met a metal door. If it was locked, I would go back down. I turned the doorknob, and it opened.
I walked out on the concrete roof, which was more smooth than rough. There was a ventilation system and some piping near the edge. The ledge came to my waist. I walked toward the back of the building where I had a great view of the surrounding streets, including many trees and tall buildings. The tallest building had an arch with a bell.
The air up here was much crisper and not as warm. I leaned forward, dropping my head over the side of the ledge. Dizzy, I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling. When the blood rushing to my head became too much, I straightened, and the world tilted to one side. Giggling loudly because no one would hear me and make fun of my horrible hyena laugh, I turned around and spotted a large tarp off to the right a few feet away.
Walking toward it, I noticed bright colors and block wording, a welcome for the incoming freshman class. There were various doodles and interesting symbols; some were Greek letters. I bent down to get a closer look at the drawings, but the sound of the door opening and footsteps scraping made me jump up and twist around.
A girl a few years older than me held paints and other art supplies in her arms. She stared at me, unblinking, making me step back. There wasn’t any judgment from her, only curiosity. While Nisha had stunned me with her flirtation and exotic allure, this one was attractive in a bubblier way. She was of some ethnicity I couldn’t identify, with an almost golden-brown hue and an abundance of honey-toned curly hair brushing her shoulders. She also had luminous brown eyes and lush lashes.
I blinked a few times, thinking I’d imagined her. She stepped closer to me, slowly lowering her supplies to the ground and then rising. I blinked again. She was barefoot, with gold painted toenails and a silver flower toe ring. She wore black running shorts and a matching sports bra, showing off a flat stomach and silver hoop belly-button ring.
“Like what you see?” she asked, her voice higher pitched instead of the smoky timbre I’d expected.
“Yes, you look great,” I said without thinking, then winced. “I mean you’ve done a great job with the sign.”
She laughed and then snorted. The sound tickled the middle of my belly.
“I’ll accept your compliment, whoever you are.”
“I’m Charlotte—I mean Charlie.” I backed up again and pressed against the ledge.
“Charlotte aka Charlie, how did you get up on the roof?” she asked, a pleasant and nonthreatening expression still in place as she continued staring at me.
“I saw the sign for the roof and came up here. I’m visiting one of the sisters,” I said, trying not to become too defensive. She was probably an AGP sister who had the right to question a strange girl on her sorority house’s roof.
“Which sister, Miss Brontë?” she asked, quirking her lips.
“Brontë? That’s not my last name.” What the hell is she talking about?
“You’re missing my attempt at humor. Charlotte Brontë wrote Jane Eyre,” she said with a more smug expression.
“Oh, yeah. I read it my junior year of high school.” Most of the girls in my class had loved the book, especially the character Rochester. He was a bigamist douche, but I kept that to myself, not even revealing my thoughts to Matilda, who reread Jane Eyre every few months for fun.
“So, you weren’t named after Charlotte Brontë?” The woman spread out her art supplies.
She must have thought I wasn’t dangerous, since she didn’t glare at me. But she did peer up under her long lashes.
“People think I’m named after Charlotte from Sex and the City.” I rolled my eyes. I was the total opposite of the proper and constantly optimistic daydreamer, Charlotte. I was more like Miranda.
“I’ve never seen the show.”
My jaw dropped. “Seriously? I swear every woman over the age of sixteen has seen the show. You haven’t caught at least one episode? Not even repeats?” I’d seen my share of Sex and the City episodes, mainly because Matilda was a big fan. She owned the complete series on DVD. We would spend hours discussing Carrie’s dates and men in her life, especially her two loves—Mr. Big and Aidan.
She tapped the bristles of her paintbrush under her chin. “I’m not a big television watcher. I prefer to spend my time reading or painting and drawing.”
Oh, she was one of those snooty, pretentious students. I waited for her to start making fun of me and assuming I didn’t have any taste because I watched cheesy television shows, but she just sat back on her heels and concentrated on her banner instead of on me.
Okay, then. Talk about awkward. “The banner looks great. You did it all yourself?” I moved away from the edge.
“It’s quiet up here.” She revealed a smile that made me want to give her one in return.
“You’re an AGP sister, right?” I had moved close enough that my feet touched the side of the banner.
“Yes, I am.” She sat back, rolling her head across her shoulders and holding a hand to her forehead to block the sun as she stared up at me. “I’m Arielle, and no, not like the one from The Little Mermaid.”
I jerked in surprise. “You’re the president of AGP.”
She nodded and leaned back on her palms. “Now that we’ve shared our names, why don’t you tell me—”
“Charlie, there you are!” Tris stood in the doorway. Jo peered over her shoulder.
“Wow, the view up here is totes!” Jo ran out
to look over the edge.
“Hey, Tris,” Arielle threw over her shoulder.
Tris came toward us with way too much concern on her face, all of which was aimed at me. “You had me worried. What made you come up here?”
“Curiosity. You’re not upset, are you? I’m not going to jump,” I said.
She shook her head. “That’s not funny.”
Arielle rose to her feet. “We haven’t had any jumpers yet.”
“Arielle.” Tris glared at her sorority sister.
“Tris, stop it,” I whispered, suddenly feeling smothered even though I was outside. “You better tell Jo to move away from the edge before she slips and falls off. But that would be an accident and not deliberate, right?”
“Whoa, what am I missing here?” Arielle twisted her belly-button ring.
Tris started to talk, but I cut her off by lifting my hand. “Tris doesn’t understand my humor.” I shrugged, and with a tight-lipped smile, marched away.
Tris yelled my name, but I didn’t acknowledge her. When I got to the door, I swung it open, catching Arielle watching me with a blank face. I didn’t bother to check Tris’s reaction as I shut the door.
I hurried down the steps, my pulse rushing in my ears and my heart slamming against my chest.
Chapter FOUR
I’D ALWAYS hated confrontations, even before last year. That’s why I’d agreed when Larissa kept our relationship secret for two years. Because I didn’t want her to stop loving me. I wanted her so badly I would have done anything she asked; supporting her lying to everyone to make them believe she was straight. Maybe if I had been stronger and refused to be her dirty little secret, or hadn’t loved her at all, I wouldn’t have been raped by her brother. Or maybe if I was straight and had wanted Byron instead—
Rage to Live Page 3